Johnny Siera is a fucking bad-ass.  Screeching like a 17-year-old AdRock over crunchy sampled punk rock, he’s turned the streets of Brooklyn into the uber-weird Pop Culture secret level of some Cloverfield 3D shoot-em-up game.
Imagine a modern Andy Warhol as a crusty punk in an unwashed hoodie, failing college on his parents’ dime while squandering his allowance on PCP and unnaturally orange cheese snacks.  The TV is always on, but the channel-up button has been stuck for three weeks, endlessly flipping images. He emerges from his dorm room with a vision of the apocalypse, and enlists the Death Set for the soundtrack to his two minute nightmare.
We’re not sure if this is Guillaume Panariello’s creative process, but it might as well be. Highly recommended.