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Even at the darkest time of the year, when the light echoes the mood, Van Nuys soldiers on.

Along unpaved Columbus Avenue, where old large properties await their transformation into many boxed houses, the blithe disregard for the larger good, for neighborly niceties, is evident.

For isn’t this the representation of freedom at its finest, to do what you want, to behave as you feel, to self-destructively ruin you and your surroundings as you sit on vacant land waiting for its value to increase?

Somebody is landlord here, and somebody is absent, and in his place the trash, the overgrown weeds, the toxic cans and poisons leak out, and it is all thought normal, just the way it’s done and has always been done.

For nothing really matters except how you can exploit, make profit, take for yourself, and destroy while you can.