Moon Lake is coming out during a period of stagnation. Having enjoyed an exuberance of diversity, the stage is collapsing at a neck-breaking speed into some “healthy” conformism, set on spewing more and more “stars” and less and less art.

The market’s logic is not as chaotic as it would like it to be!

In this line of thought, as of recently, does art stand any chance of happening as an act of resistance, as an act of unique, underground guerrilla warfare with its meager budgets and inability to achieve its creative potential? There is no need to lie: when all that matters is the show, the spectacle, “the only fame is that bestowed by the grace and favor of the Court of spectators, after which disgrace may swiftly follow.” Because “an anti-spectacular fame has become something extremely rare.”

I just quoted Debord. He seems to have written more for our times than his. After him, if nothing else, that entire La Nouvelle Vague thing managed to happen in filmmaking.

In this line of thought, from now on, can anything new happen in cinema, or art in general, that is not affiliated with the Court of spectators, and, at the same time, end up being something more than an amateurish DIY product? …


The present is life in caves, where technology is non-existent, only culture exists, or more precisely its remnants; a life twice as sad for denying itself the rapture of destruction, the enthusiasm of the final razing of those dear remnants, the ones Moon Lake seems to pick up and rearrange with nostalgia and love, following Proust and not Baudelaire, Benjamin and not Bataille, Orpheus and not Dionysius.

There, in the cave commune, we can even meet Marx, surprisingly alive, having endured century-long attacks by the free hawks of critical rationalism (as if to confirm my questionable theory).

Also disguised as a remnant is the last hope of mankind is the age-old myth of the ship of salvation sailing up into the heavens. It is not a luminous flying machine, on board of which those who have earned their salvation will set off for other worlds. It is a corroded metallic body, the remains of the ruined recent past.

Erosion is not chaos. These are not the blind energies of Dionysius. Moon Lake is enraptured with erosion, with the tarnish that has covered all things human as chaos increasingly acquires the appearance of an ice- cold Novus Ordo Seclorum, the symbol of which can be seen on the reverse side of the U.S. dollar, and whose trash-infested technological suburbs are inhabited by technological troglodytes, subsisting on the leftovers from past feasts.