When the shitty stream is gone, it will be remembered and missed. We will miss the warm filter of fuzz from digital compression, the aesthetics of illegality. The vignetting of television shows as means of escaping the algorithms of copyright detection; the avant framing of filmic action in still photoframes, sometimes bland and decoratively abstract, other times conceptually developed (an image of a woman standing in a den, gazing at the same screen-within-a-screen that is the den’s television, upon which the show, embedded, plays). The audio distortions, warbling, electronic, borderline-vocoded in dramatic application. Even the pop-ups will be missed, the advertisements for growth hormones and performance enhancers, whey protein and local singles, raunchy sex-simulators and fantasy games full of fantasy cleavage, platinum hair, chainmail corsets.