It's Charles Mudede on the democratic sublimity of a good Chinese duck:

It begins with the sidewalk. In Harare, shop owners place big black speakers on the sidewalk and blast Afropop. All of the shops sell the exact same stuff (soup, toothpaste, knitting kits, Afro picks, metal bed frames) at the same price. It is only the beat that distinguishes each business—the better the music, the more customers it attracts.

From the sidewalks in the red-light district of Amsterdam, one can see nearly naked women on display. Only glass separates you from the fantasy. A man sees what he likes, stops, and enters the door next to the display. Because he already knows what she will look like in bed, the only real surprise is in the fucking—will the sex be great?

In the International District, as with the cities in distant China, roasted ducks communicate with the sidewalks... CONTINUED > > >