Inside The Termite Mound

Big cities are strange places. A babble of languages. A moving picture show of unattainable flesh. A liberating anonymity that like all liberations, ends in disappointment. The Jews didn't crucify Christ, the city did, just like it fed Socrates hemlock. Nowadays we ignore our local eccentrics. To be hip in the city is to be cutting-edge, but never to fall off that edge. Lead the charge but always glance backward to see if you're being followed.

I dream of throwing money-lenders out of temples and splashing sheep's blood on advert models. Live here if you must but be in and not of, move among but don't belong.