[Above] Graffiti Harvard Square, Boston
Massachusetts
At the end of City Lights, when the film's heroine at last sees the man who has delivered her from blindness, we watch her romantic dreams die in an instant. "You?" she asks, incredulous. "Yes," the Tramp nods, his face, caught in extreme close-up, a map of pride, shame and devotion. It's the oldest story in show business — the last shall yet be, if not first, at least recognized, and perhaps even loved. This holds true for real life too. Sometimes. All the answers to all the questions are hidden on deep cable, wedged between remixes of Temptation Island and the Mole. Sometimes we're the hero. And sometimes we're the tramp.
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