I ektually had a quasi-Buddhist essay on desire all planned, but I just found out that our friend Terry the Canuck is a published author! Check out Faces On Places: A Grotesque Tour of Toronto here. All about gargoyles 'n shit. I can't think of any gargoyles in this area...maybe the Wells Theater has a few. Anybody local know of any? Norfolk has done a pretty good job of eradicating buildings that look at all interesting. The few that remain on Granby Street look like rotten teeth in the new "smile" that Norfolk is cosmetically engineering. Faux-Georgian condos are the big thing right now. And try looking for a gargoyle in Chesapeake or Virginia Beach. The non-breathing kind, that is. Every so often in one of these blighted wastelands you'll see something quaint, like a brick sidewalk, and then upon inspection you'll see that it's some kind of inch-thick brick veneer glued onto a mesh and flopped down like a rug. That's what these suburban enclaves, these giant gated communities behind which cower Republicans and evangelicals and golfers, are all about. A thin veneer of quaint cuteness selected by some fascist urban designer plastered over an ugly heap of cigarette- and paper-cup-studded dirt. I know, I'm getting all het up again and turning this into a rant against a gaggle of seemingly decent law-abiding folks, but I must remind you once again that the only reason Virginia Beach and Chesapeake even exist as cities is because they barricaded themselves against pending integration with Norfolk and Portsmouth's blacks in the sixties, thereby robbing Norfolk of a chance to become a major metropolitan center and making Portsmouth a dumping ground for welfare cases.So... maybe I'll feel a little more Buddhist tomorrow.