The city is neither a jungle nor the moon nor the Grand Hotel. In long shot: a cosmic smudge, a conglomerate of bleeding energies. Close up, it is a fairly legible printed circuit, a transistorized labyrinth of beastly tracks, a data bank for asthmatic voice prints. Only some of its citizens have the right to be amplified and become audible.
- Susan Sontag, I, etcetera.