The waterfront I cover is still stinking, the trash piling up anywhere there is a spare vacant lot or cover of verdure. Develop the hell out of it, I hear you say––it is so damn trashy. We despoil paradise on a daily basis through the simple process of owning and neglecting what we own, in preparation for the remunerative inevitable.
Look forward to the day when the capital is in place and the city arises, all cold and gleaming new for a while, till it becomes rundown like all the rest. Who can you really trust in this world? Not many and that is hoping for the best.