Well, here it is. Like I promised. What's wrong with being a little late? I've taken the time to refine my thoughts like fine wine, ripened on the vine by the mild Mediterranean climate of Southern California; juiced, pressed, and exported straight into your brain pan. Let's pick up where we left off in the previous post. Here I am! I made it. Manifest Destiny. Cool. Okay. I reached the end of Western Civilization. I've been here for something like a year. Most of my days have been spent in quarantine, occasionally snapping out of my cooped up depression to create some sort of content when provoked by the literal and metaphorical fires raging outside of my window. The four horses of the apocalypse: Pestilence, Death, Famine, War; they can all be found hanging out over on Sunset Boulevard snapping pictures with Spider-Man. No masks. In order to understand the city, I've investigated the natural landscape and el...