The head of Joaquin Murrieta in a jar.

Himself

I have to admit, Old Town San Diego is a tourist trap worth visiting. I have been in and around what San Diego has become, but it wasn't until last week that I was at The Mission (where I couldn't help myself from humming Tori Amos snippets. See: video below.) on a high point overlooking rivers of vehicles and out to the ocean- which seemed so far with all the foreign trees growing very tall with years and the traffic flowing so loudly. What a shame they built this lovely church so close to the freeway. Ahem. And though the Basilica itself was closed, The 'birthplace of California' was welcoming tourists of all kinds down below. This little settlement was also the starting point of the Crosthwaite line in the Americas with Phillip {The Man Himself} Crosthwaite getting on the wrong boat and losing a bet. So for Human, he was as home as he could get without going all the way over to the UK.  I saw the names of the families on the plaques and I knew once upon a time no inkling of the line that would be cut and recut existed in the minds of anyone. There was no border scar. Those families exist on both sides of that damned wall. And what would these founding Californians think of how they have been split up by the extent of the dreamings and schemings of greedy, ambition driven people? What would they think of these subcultures we have created? Narco. Migrante. Policia. I do not believe these Californians would be very proud of the debacle we have now.