It is possible to intuit the media schizophrenia with which every television spectator coexists, just by witnessing the information storm that assaults her. The media assemble, with no apparent criteria, a bespoke isolationist suit.

All the sciences and technologies are present in Tailors. There is the case of Rosa, a rhino in super-8, military marches, planes and politics, ads, Marilyn, a concert by Blur, techno and arab music, a radar, surgical operations, astronauts, police, porno in black and white, assembly lines, money, and even a strange obsession with oriental girls, all arranged in micro loops, insertions and scratches (or deliria).

Contradictory overlappings in Tailors use the collective unconscious, which has been trained by the Kulechov effect - when two autonomous correlative images generate a third meaning-, and take the spectator to a no-man’s land. As if in a food processor, references to feminine fetishes are alternated with images of military power (agreements and conflicts), combined with an avalanche of subliminal flashes, as if through that constant blinking one could, out of the corner of the eye, get a glimpse of reality. The syncopated evolution of a blurred perception does not allow for longing for what is not seen, but only for curiously wondering about the halfseen.

There seems to be no sense to this amalgam, rather like the kind of sense one can make of a condensed zapping sequence: independent fragments that casually coincide in a specific moment. The ability to create particular ideas when filling up the gaps of information leads us into a dissipated type of thinking. The particular order of the declassification of images and sounds focuses on showing their inevitable manipulation. Tailors generates a schizophrenic recitation which offers, from a media saturated perspective (because the Tailoring Department, on the first floor, is burning) a glimpse at nihilistic nothingness.