William Garnett showed us definitively that Los Angeles is a city with no horizon, in every sense. Not only does it stretch out toward a blurry infinity, but it never really goes away, and furthermore, nothing ever happens (without a horizon there is no event). Houses are built and destroyed but the engine continues. There is no line, no critical mass in which one can say the city has changed or changes its subjects. Everything is simply flowing in or out along lines of infrastructure. As long as it’s fed, the city-machine will keep on making.
It’s a city in which subjectivity is impossible, but it’s also the only thing there is.