Davis Guggenheim didn't start out intending to make documentaries, even though his father Charles had directed many during his career.
Through the heart of Miami's Little Havana, SW 8th street unfolds--a paved corridor narrowed by a strip of the twenty-odd pay-by-the-hour motels stacked side by side. Fortress-like with their high walls and discrete private entrances, these motels are the ideal locale for a clandestine encounter.
There are few phenomena in this universe as evocative and imbued with as much symbolic power as a lightening bolt. When one gazes at these pillars of light descending from the heavens, charged with devastating potential, one understands why pre-technological societies believed them the instruments of gods.
I'll be honest: when I first glanced at the press material for RiP: A remix manifesto I was filled with dread.
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