I’ve always been perplexed at the hate that some people have for suburbs (and a more intense version of that hate for gated communities). Much of the time the complaint seems to boil down to them being just too darn swell. They remind me of John Horgan praying for a new Great Depression. Fuck you, John. I hope you personally experience a financial catastrophe while everyone else rides high on the hog. I’ve always disliked cities when I spend time there, which I suppose means I agree with Sartre that hell is other people. I guess I can’t give as informed a judgment of country life, but in my opinion less developed places are alright to visit in order to shoot animals but not great to live in. I was afraid that employment would be concentrated in urban areas and require me to at least spend a good deal of time downtown, but fortunately I found work in a suburb of Chicago rather than the Smelly Onion itself, so I won’t have to leave the wonderful artificiality (like American cheese) of suburbia. A debunking of some myths about suburbs that holds them in esteem even as it sees good in New Urbanism is in Allan Carlson’s “Bailey Park” or “Greater Pottersville”?: The Natural Family in the 21st Century Suburb. A cosmotarian defense of Pottersville AGAINST Capra’s ideal is here.

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