The funny thing about London is how everything feels like it’s trying to push you out. So all these people are trying to get in, but the city itself and the infrastructures that have been created and the social issues, everything is trying to push you straight back out. Everyone’s trying to fight to get into the middle, but then there’s something in the middle that’s just trying to force everyone out and it's saying, you’ve got to earn your place. But if you get pushed out, then someone else instantly fills your space. We feel a bit disposable.
—source quoted in Craig Taylor, Londoners (2011)
At dusk a foggy layer that spent all afternoon massing behind San Francisco breaks over the peaks and slides onto the water in a huge wall, like Ginnungagap. It hits the 80, all the cars slow to 15 and turn their wipers on.
κι άκουσε...
...ως τελευταία απόλαυσι τους ήχους,
τα εξαίσια όργανα του μυστικού θιάσου,
κι αποχαιρέτα την, την Καλιφόρνια που χάνεις
and hear, as a last delight, the voices,
the exquisite music of the mystic procession,
and bid her farewell, the California you are losing
