Orson Welles

A surrealist nightmare of expressionist lighting and skewed compositions made from colossal pre- and postwar European architecture, oppressive even when it’s beautiful, its sharp angles stuffed to the gills with detritus, evoking a civilization abandoned in a panic. Even the scenes with hundreds of extras feel lonely. It talks too much but my god does it look incredible.

It is a beautiful January morning in Philadelphia. The Pixelworthy office is incandescent, its twentieth story windows unable to find refuge from the sun. Shaded by a pillar, Stan glares at the iMac on his desk.

“Damn Zeldman. Fucking meme shit.”

A few feet away, Rob snickers into his cinnamon roll.

“Keep laughing. You’re getting tagged next.”

“Come now, Stan. I can’t break over three months of editorial silence by participating in some retarded meme.”

“Tough luck.”… See more →