As we lean into the gusty winds of the approaching millennium, squaring
our shoulders and lowering our heads against an icy unknown, we
discover much to our surprise that the future has already arrived; that
it has silently imploded into the singularity of the present. We are lost
in a crevice in the ‘wrong side’ of history, in a furious calm at the end
of a century-old breath, doing solitary confinement in the future anterior.
Time has inhaled so hard that it has lodged us in its lungs, compressing
us into shadowy, ovaloid spectres out of the horror classic,
Nosferatu. Capitalism has authored this moment, synchronising the
heartbeat of the globe with the auto-copulatory rhythms of the marketplace;
deregulating history; downsizing eternity.