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Judson Evans, USA

Sorceror's Apprentice

For the soul cannot grasp anything not converted into a sequence of phantasms...
~ Ficino

CableVision 's high tech fortress hid in the midden of trash and abandoned cars, Allston/ Brighton, the blighted edge of Boston. A quantum leap above digging ditches, stretching bottles, or hauling raincoats, the job a modified video game burred electroshock sent to some dazed customer's cable box, switching the History for The Playboy Channel, searching and stanching hemorrhages of I Love Lucy reruns to unpaid subscribers. Irate calls from Quincy, Roslmdale and Revere, East Boston where the incoming flights fuzzed and sputtered reruns of Cheers or Happy Days. Long hours after midnight the calls of insomniacs, potential suicides, channel surfing for a fix of nostalgia– a sixties sit-com, an old Jimmy Stewart film.

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