Sep 11 2009 12:23 pm
It’s like walking down Colfax alone at midnight. Passing laundromats where long metallic rows of washing machines move past in sweeping angles at walking slow motion and the old man with the wrinkled pug face and white stubble struggles to put his clothes in the dryer. It’s like a line of merchants, a priory of priests, a rabble of administrators clutching at bureaucracies and pens and papers. Universal healthcare for all! Viva la Zapateria! Long live the shoe store you stupid fucks. Sal Paradise is pissed.
It’s like a Tree of Smoke and Denis Johnson is driving.
Get the hell out the way.