The cinema looks like a warehouse,
and feels ostentatious, relying on reflected limelight,
buried limelight, awkward, buried in history; it is history.

It warehouses focus group dreams, meaningless and
safe. Safe when terrorised, safe when sexualised,
safe dreams, anodyne dreams, comfortable dreams
dreams created for people who like warehouses and
synthetic, controlled challenges.

A warehouse of risk aversion, of fearfulness
where the young are old and indoctrinated,
living to replicate, to earn praise by being wise
thinking about the future, planning and knowing
what’s what. And the films they prefer are upbeat
– sanitised by advertising men, merchandising men.

And the warehouse mentality grips risk by the throat
the young are still young despite their best efforts.
They still surge with primeval tides of emotion,
still filled with the exhilarating insanity of youth
so where do their dreams come from?
Who packages dreams for the youthful young;
who offers opportunity to the youthful young?

ISIS welcomes you!

(Chris)