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From the Archives: New York, Mon Amour (1979)

By Victor Bockris 1) At London’s Gatwick Airport, I went straight to the cafeteria, stationed myself at a deserted corner table, put an opium pellet on my tongue and washed it down with two cups of tepid tea, apparently a catalyst. On a jammed Laker flight to New York, I managed to read three novels… Keep Reading

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