A scrap film, assembled in the unfinished present. An audiovisual hyperstition that integrates almost 20 condensed years of Super 8 footage and a mysterious signal in Pathe 9.5 that gives the thing its shape and title. Between automatic writing, radical drift, and a pastiche of previous pieces—many, all the films no one saw; mashed together like molcajete salsa. A humble and loving harvest of signals that present themselves in the sky and on the mental screen. The soundtracks are of bats in their most bestial form. The scan is from a Labtank. An essay in digital photoalchemistry, Timeless, but in several folds at once.