somewhere between mennonite farms and corrupt cement contractors, bound by the delaware and the alleghenys, the commonwealth of pennsylvania saddens the way apples ripen. some of our nation’s most beautiful rolling terra is firmly in the grip of a billboard aesthetic, which is to say captive to the craven interests of the motel set that would advertise on late night TV for everything from ‘why rent when you can buy’ opportunities to ‘government auctions woohoo’. when you cross the mason dixon line heading north you feel transported not to the inherited lands of educated quakers and other underground rr’ers, but, instead, to south of the border myrtle beach tawdry get your fireworks here. you cross from new jersey into monroe county and you have been transported to alabama with foliage and hillsides. the cracker set has taken over the county commission and from the poconos to york it’s the pre-diabetic rural south with their ATVs and yellow ribbon fight songs. south from NY. west from NJ. north from MD. its one enormous concrete road construction fiasco after another, tied together by the common theme of whatever can be placed on a billboard and read between bites of chicken nuggets. poor william penn.
Originally posted on November 1, 2007
Wow you nailed it! I weep.