Migration of the Blubberoids

0 votes, average 0 out of 10 - 11 minutes

"The whiteness of winter cannot bury the blubbery things that splash and frolic among the frozen memories of Heathen harvests, in a land haunted by lard and ancestral lip-smacking." The collision of an overly dramatic film score/soundtrack with the banal yet enigmatic images of snow covered streets leads to a dissonant effect; the expectation of one is not fulfilled by the other.

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