It’s over. Those were the first words I heard coming into my job as a projectionist at the Minor Theater in Arcata, California in 1994. I had been in town a year, and Humboldt County was currently having its forests clear-cut by corporations, all the mills were slowly grinding to a halt, things were bleak. I was lucky to get a job at all, and the words were enough to make me nervous for the next five years. The owner of the theater was prescient enough to know that, in fact, cinema as we knew it was dying. Digital projection will kill us, he said. Markets are rapidly changing into a soiled bucket of uniformity, he said. And we’re all gonna be out of a job by 2000, he said. He was right, for the most part.