Home | Blog | Search | RSS | Contact
The Asylum, in pieces. (2006)
They're tearing it down.
After all this time, the asbestos-festering, graffitti-strewn walls of the former tuberculosis ward are being ripped asunder and exposed to the harsh light of day, like the insides of a corpse after a crude and hopeless, last minute, battlefield search for the burning piece of flak as the light in his eyes slipped away.
Buildings have lives as sure as they have deaths.
I was hoping for explosives, but it looks like the doctor prescribed a wrecking ball.
Been gone a while. Seems to be a (bad) habit of mine this year. My network connection was on the fritz for over two weeks. Then there was work. Then there was this new law to try to put a stop to online gambling (your friend and author has been known to risk a buck or two on the turn of the cards from time to time), so I was busy familiarizing myself with... umm... counter-measures. We'll leave it at that.
Back for now. For a while. Until new excuses wander into my life.
Saturday was the saddest of anniversaries, but we made it through.
Saw The Prestige. If you don't mind your entertainment of flickering images a little on the complicated side, I heartily recommend it. Don't let anyone tell you about it, as the less you know, the better.
Permalink | Comments | Trackback