— Ted Chung is a director and screenwriter based in Los Angeles, California. He was recently selected for the 2008 Berlinale Talent Campus. In Berlin, he directed the short film On Time, which subsequently became a hit on Youtube.
director | Ted Chung
cinematography | James Yuan
music | Chanda Dancy
editor | Ted Chung
the bicyclist | Yoyao Hsueh
the photographer | Nasim Pedrad
Art will be the last bastion when all else fades away. ~ Timothy White (b 1952), American rock music journalist _________________
When you're deafened by the sound of betrayal And there's no one left to trust Falling off the end of the scale You carry on because you must
When you're down to the last of your senses And the pain is broken out of thoughts Somehow you've got to pull yourself together You've got to make good of all the things, you've been taught
Mazars and Deutsche Bank could have ended this nightmare before it started. They could still get him out of office. But instead, they want mass death. Don’t forget that.
"The universe is 40 billion light years across and every inch of it would kill you if you went there. That is the position of the universe with regard to human life."
LYRICS. Come on now stop staring at the ceiling Your last daydream is slowly unreeling Won’t you come out tonight, like I know you want to cuz the city’s alive and even though it haunts you, I want you
To tell me again what the body’s for cuz I can’t feel it anymore I want to hurt like it did before We shouldn’t sin
Tell me again what the body’s for cuz I can’t feel it anymore I lost mine and I need yours, It’s only skin, we should swim
You try so hard to keep it together, and you look so hard in fishnets and leather But I know who you are, you are just a lost saint And if we go too far, there’ll be heaven to pay and what a price…
I can’t feel it anymore, tell me again what the body’s for I can’t feel it anymore, tell me again it’s only skin, we should swim
Art will be the last bastion when all else fades away. ~ Timothy White (b 1952), American rock music journalist _________________
400m across, and hanging like a football field over the valley of the stone circle wondering what the crop will yield Cause the mothership has come Cause the mothership has come Who's she gonna take this time? Right now tell me who's she gonna claim?
Loving is the face of Jesus Smiling is the Mona Lise To penetrate the diamond the pituatary gland gets torn off its access and frees Earth is a cannon of love, shame beyond Socrates Who's to blame but the man like any man? Who's to blame but the man who leads?
Going upwards at 45 degrees Going upwards at 45 degrees Going upwards at 45 degrees Won't somebody sign my release
When people jump through time they give themselves up to rhyme and reasons of the heavens they recognise in themselves reconciling their thoughts to those of dutiful people they're unashamed
Going upwards at 45 degrees Going upwards at 45 degrees Going upwards at 45 degrees Won't somebody sign my release?