TV newscast discard; 1965; reprinted as found maybe in a Canal Street bin, I guess, with the exception of boosting volume second half. A lot of film is perfect left alone, perfectly revealing in its un- or semi-conscious form. I wish more stuff was available in its raw state, as primary source material for anyone to consider, and to leave for others in just that way, the evidence uncontaminated by compulsive proprietary misapplied artistry. 'Editing' the purposeful 'pointing things out' that cuts a road straight and narrow through the cine-jungle; we barrel through thinking we're possibly going somewhere and miss it all... O, for a Museum of Found Footage or cable channel, library, a shit museum of telling discard accessible to all talented viewers-auditors. A wilderness haven salvaged from Entertainment. Ken Jacobs