XERO1

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In the not-so-distant future, music is dead. Void of all elements reflecting creativity, passion or originality, it is a mere product of the Corporation, the government run media arts empire that controls all Radio, Television, Internet and Satellite Broadcasts on Earth. Saturating the airwaves with pre-fabricated popular music, (written by executives for specific target demographics, and mimed by fresh-faced good looking kids), music is no more than a 3-minute product placement tool for the biggest of business. Of course the sheep-like masses buy it up in frenzies, inherent of the ideology that if its on the radio or TV it MUST be good... Right??
For one man this ignorance is indicative of all that is wrong in the world. He lives deep beneath the metropolises of greed, in the darkness of what was once a great underground city, built by the art-terrorists that came before him. Completely alone he learns of the past through the images he finds on illegal vid-disks created long before the anti-art laws were enacted. He watches the images (shone from the countless antique televisions he has collected) 24 hours a day, which after many years has burned his eyes and scorns his skin to a near metallic glow.
With these images as inspiration, and archaic technology as instrumentation, he creates a vision of music that reflects his despair and distain for what the outside world has become. He dreams of one day meeting others like him, outsiders and individualists, (or Warriors as he calls them) but for now he walks alone...
Rewind to present day, where the legend of this future man with a number for a name spreads like a virus through the hearts and whispers of the youth. Some say that if you listen closely you can here his melodies seeping up from the underground via the millions of miles of wire that surround his world. Others say theyve actually SEEN him in the transportation tunnels beneath the cities, standing as tall as a building while quietly strumming an unknown wood-like instrument. Some even say hes not of the future at all, but instead a messenger sent from the past to warn us of our own pending self-destruction..
Only time will tell if this cyber-prophet will bring forth the Cultural Revolution to which he sings of , or if he even exists. If so will his warnings be heeded, or like his heroes before him, will he be ignored and ultimately.. Forgotten?
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