Seattle impersonates Japan, and almost nails it, but for the train.
Self-determination, so philosophical in a Popeye sort of way.
Good morning. Good Morning. Good morning.
Seattle’s University District does a good impression of post-War Europe, what with the cranes and density and racism and all.
Are these big bad men bothering you, sweetheart?
I married him, dear reader.
Käse Keep. Queso Quarters. Cheese Crib.
28 November, 1952
“MR. PEANUT KING OF ALL HE SURVEYS–Mr. Peanut, that top-hatted Beau Brummel of the goober world, surveys the area adjacent to the future office and factory location of Planters Nut & Chocolate Company’s new San Francisco headquarters. He is 31 feet tall and completely outlined by a tube of tangerine neon. When the sign is lighted at night, Mr. Peanut winks his right eye and the arrows pointing to him flash on and off. Two buildings now are on the site at Paul avenue and Bayshore boulevard and third is under construction. Planters expects to move in about the middle of 1953. Plant expansion investment on West Coast is about $2,500,000.”
–SFPL History Center
If you spend as much time looking at the buildings of this florid city, your rewards are mixed: a fig leaf here, an epic hero there. Pretty damned classical, all told, and prescient to much later public nudity.
The Air-Conditioned Nightmare, by Henry Miller
You just need a hug, is all.
Lower Haight residents fear the influx of featureless Caucasians, and all that post-modern glass.
Solving San Francisco’s housing crisis here on Larkin Street. The land prices, that’s another matter entirely.
San Francisco’s own Ministry of Torture, where if you don’t leave with a mouthful of blood, you probably need a new dentist.