Permadeath green

Digital memories compress, become eternal blue.

Eight burning suns rise and fall over a fractured America where digital ghosts, abandoned landscapes, and unstable symbols drift through an endless cycle of decay and renewal. Shut-ins linger at the edges of contemporary life while a solitary avatar embarks on a journey across deserts, suburbs, cornfields, casinos, and simulated worlds, searching for meaning amid the ruins of an image-saturated culture.

A digital protopersona occupying an industrial surveillance network drifts into sleep. Its ravaged and bleak techno-militaristic surroundings are reprocessed and regurgitated as the being imagines a pastoral future.

Obsession with the moments leading to the end. Online adrenaline junkies, simulated thrills and virtual realities. There are sinister forces embedded in the metadata. There are curses written in the code.

Closed-eye gaze; nothing in particular; animated expressions plastered on digital ghosts. There are scrawled notes posted on trees. There is someone watching from beyond the field of view. Lightless visions; floating heads; walking once again down an unfamiliar path.

Collectively authored cut-for-cut remake of the 1929 film of the same name through the lens of internet-based aesthetics. Drawing a lineage from the experiments of Soviet montage to contemporary trends such as sludge content, desktop documentary, corecore, and database cinema, Man with a Movie Camera (2025) attempts to reinvigorate the popular avant-garde project of a universal cinematic language which was originally developed almost a century ago by Dziga Vertov and The Kinoks.

Children observe a man dying through a screen.