It's like a toilet plunger, isn't it? That suck suck sludging noise following you around. Like pulling your feet up from the mud. Or the oil sands. Black crude leaving marks behind you for the rest of your life. All for the slim hope of one day being an artist. Or at least human.
Kate Beaton - Ducks. An investigation.
"Coal, fishing, steel... but that's all gone, isn't it?"
