Do you ever feel like going back in time and getting kicked out of school? It almost worked for Thaddeus Stevens, who, in 1812, used an ax to slaughter a cow on the green at the University of Vermont, as a retaliation toward an invasion by local farmers. But old Thad did not get expelled, and instead went on to wage a war against what he viewed as a southern aristocracy built on the backs of slaves. Of course, this at a time when one had to have a personal politics, when everyday life depended on it.
In the 21st century, with the constant evolution of automobiles and the ease and affordability of air travel, we have almost dominated space, but have lost touch with it. Time has escaped us completely. We fill the void with consumption, a desire for entertainment, and planning for future security. What happened?
An ax can create a rupture in time.
“Birth of a Rupture, Ruptured Birth” attempts to take entertainment out of context, break down the structure of cinema, and turn the viewer at any given time into the editor. It attempts to use a map of one city to discover another, make 40 ounces the base measurement of liquid, and appropriate political speeches, along with the rich literary tradition of Russia. Above all, it attempts to find a good ax and make mincemeat of time as we know it.
