The death screams of a 1948 Buick speedometer evoked the sound of a snowblower clearing piles of hubcaps. The grand broadsword of a pointer suddenly buried itself at 120 mph while the odometer switched to the mileage pacing of an SR-71 over Smolensk. After removing this big grandfather clock of an instrument, I set out […]
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Aaron Robinson: The Hollywood Freeway is L.A.’s Own Glittering Gutter
