I came to the screening wearing the outfit compulsory for all such events: a faded and frayed sweater in a neutral color, sexless jeans, and a dirtied canvas tote. I had composed this outfit to signal my status as a true believer—my monkish intent to remain forever materially impoverished but spiritually rich. I entered the venue on that rainy winter night as a Jacobin for the cause(s)—which were (in non-hierarchical order): independent microcinema, forgotten analog media, bespoke animation, and video art. 

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