October 18, 2012
Timelapse video of Space Shuttle going through L.A.
October 15, 2012
On Thursday night, the city slips away behind you in the night fading off to port. Night lights fading into a fuzzied fog.
A weekend asleep in bed where nothing move and nothing breathes. A new kitten to replace the old kitten. The kitten sees the truck as "the machine that moves buildings". It pulls the buildings past us as the kitten is locked safely away in a small box. This is how the kitten sees things.
But now, somehow, I awake in the darkness and we're landing in some city. Maybe it's San Francisco. I stumble down the aisle and, seconds later, I'm racing up the 101 towards the city. Now deep fog and can't see. The road splits and I have to go right or left in the darkness. Fog and mist and dark and confusion and normally I go left but this time I break right and now I'm rolling down Kearney Street.
In the city, you sort of forget what is there. You forget what there is. But now the city lights pull it all back into a soft wet focus. The headlight and the street lights paint old broken negroes onto the city sidewalks. Crumpled up beggars and meth addicts and opportunistic theives scour the city as crabs scour the oceans' floors.
I can't know what to do. Can't make sense of this illusion. Hard to believe that this is real. That anything matters. Somehow, I've got to take a knife and carve an existence out of this space.
The 49'ers lost. The Giants lost. North Beach is a ghost town and I turn up Green Street and ride a wheelie for a block or so. Just so everyone knows I'm back. But no one cares.
450 7th Street
At Amante, I learn that the city has stolen Rico's motorcycle, the same way they stole my car earlier this year. Once they get their mitts on it, it's gone.
The goal of the city is to pry assets away from anyone unfortunate enough to start a company and succeed.
They cower behind 5" walls of plexiglass and charge $198.00 a day for storage fees. They laugh at the people they fuck. I've seen them. They don't care. They do not. They steal the cars and raffle them off every Thursday. Rico's machine is gone. The way my car is gone. We both know this.
October 5, 2012
Handy Guides to Aircraft Identification for Fleet Week
So, the planes are screaming over the city like mad and I'm trying to identify them as best I can.
So far, what I've seen appears to be an F-22 flying along side an F-16 with some type of trainer between them.