If you are a writer you locate yourself behind a wall of silence and no matter what you are doing driving a car or walking or doing housework you can still be writing because you have that space.
My first car I got it in an auction at my temple. It was an '86 Volvo that I got for 500 bucks and then wound up throwing $10 000 into the stereo system and put TVs in the foot rests. It was the most ridiculous Volvo you'd ever seen but I had never had money before and I was out of my mind.
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The American Dream has run out of gas. The car has stopped. It no longer supplies the world with its images its dreams its fantasies. No more. It's over. It supplies the world with its nightmares now: the Kennedy assassination Watergate Vietnam.
