In the words of the cliché: television is a window on the world. It may well become a cliché that video bottles and preserves the world, much like that obsolete toy, the Viewmaster. But what can Mr. Colour Bar, the electronic rastafari, see through his rastafari spectacles in memory of what he has forgotten?
Blue with Red. A high-speed printout of techodata. Is this an electronic love letter? A more old-fashioned way would be to climb a factory chimney and paint on it 'Isabelle, je t'aime'. You can also pray to be dragged away from the pleasure which is unfortunately unbearable, just as the camera has difficulty keeping to the point. The result of all these cries from the heart is an impassive face of the object of worship. You wrinkle up into a tiny Frankenstein monster.
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