For the moment of Edwold’s surrender to his Eve-to-be is that of a world, assenting, on the eve of its future, to that synthesis of the parameters of mechanical reproduction figures as a simulacrum of the female body, for whose interlocutor (or spectator) the scene is already set. And this world, assenting, murmurs ‘I know, but…’
-Annette Michelson, ‘On The Eve of the Future
Eve of the Future 