Jack Burns Lives!

In preparation for an upcoming trip to Arizona, I checked out one of those location specific magazines. Every state or major destination seems to have one these days. You know, the ones that are supposedly about the state or city but are mostly just ads for bad restaurants and other touristy venues.

They’re glossy collections of lies and half truths about the places they cover, published primarily to sell shit and bring the industrial tourism dollars to their respective neck of the woods. They’re all jumbled together at the magazine stand, Sedona Monthly, Texas Monthly, New Mexico, etc.

There are, however, some pretty girls in them. Sex sells.

My experience suggests the best places probably don’t have ads in those publications, and that you need to consult a trusted local in order to find the real gems. Places off the beaten path, tucked away in alleys and deserted looking side streets, the best trails and local pubs. Ask a trusted local, and another rule of thumb…if there’s a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not or a theme park within two miles of your destination, choose another place.

Anyway, the worthless waste of paper had some adds for homes in the area, just outside of Sedona. Some were over $10 million dollars, and almost all of the ads featured those bizarre glamor shot photos of the agents. I kept thinking how obscene the whole thing looked. The people, the prices, the sprawling estates.

I’ve come to the conclusion that real estate agents are in the same class as used car salesmen and funeral directors. Since the 1950’s, they’ve thrived off the systematic destruction of the natural world, working hand in hand with Chamber of Commerce goons and City Council members. They’re the trumpet section of the “If you ain’t growin’ you’re dyin’” symPhony. Problem is they’re badly out of tune and the music just sounds like shit.

The house pictured below was advertised as a “green home.” I have to ask, however, what’s green about a three car garage? Are you fucking kidding me?

Someone also suggested I take a helicopter ride. Yeah, right. Helicopter operators and real estate swine, watch out. Rumor has it a one-eyed, hawk nosed man on a horse is headed your way, and I hear he’s got some experience with helicopters. And if he don’t set things straight, Mother Earth certainly will.