A night train you cannot get off, that keeps forgetting which way it is going. Every cut throws the ride onto a new axis — forward down a curving track or through a tunnel, rolled, spinning, backwards; side-on out of the window with lamp posts and pylons streaming past; or falling past towers, accelerating. The frame comes apart into bands, tiles and picture-in-picture windows, each its own film with its own axis, speed, zoom, tilt and palette; portal cuts dive through a swelling window, and some regions fold into themselves, diving inward forever. Slit-scanned time, stutters and freezes, tape tears, smeared lanes, shoved blocks, blackouts and a train tearing past at point-blank range. Some beats land as coarse pixel blocks that resolve through the beat, and every phrase ends with the whole frame dissolving into ever larger blocks. Very rarely the whole frame drops to black for an instant. The pointer steers the vanishing point; hold it down to cut on every beat and forget everything.