Ah yes. Last time it was spleen-venting weather, my New York tryst was coming to a sharp end and the world continued to go to hell. Now the rat is about to fall off the treadmill and my sorry ass is being hauled back for a second helping of punishment in the land of insecurity. In the meantime, it was Europa intermission and a first sally back to Berlin in seven years, with lots of shiny memories suspended in jeopardy over the rocks of reality. Ten years ago it was all squatting, street festivals and harassing the authorities under the strangely benevolent gaze of Alexanderplatz, bicycle theft at 9.00 in the morning, fighting the city’s candidature for the Olympics in an unholy alliance of upstarts and pensioners, tens of thousands strong; in short, an anarcho-teenage West World. When they started chasing us around Alexanderplatz for having no lights on our illicitly procured vehicles (the ignominy of it!) it was clear that the witching hour has passed.

A tad weird thus, to pad quietly around the city, knocking on doors of old friends, peeking in windows of old homes, like a burglar lost in the art, spellbound once again by the city’s charms. And then Jamie was there too of course, flying the skull and crossbones and keeping the ideas pumping. The gig that brought us there was

natalie.jeremijenko@yale.edu ramorxx@hotmail.com kate@bureauit.org leyladakhli@hotmail.com mimalot@hotmail.com