via Daring Fireball. I love the scent of irony in the morning.
The photos that emerged from the event had the tawdriness of Americaâ€™s worst cityscapes and the richness of an allegorical painting. The sound systemâ€™s snarl of cables lay sloppily piled on the asphalt, the emblem of every garbled message. A Sunoco sign presided over the end of an administration desperately addicted to fossil fuels. Windows covered in blackout shades and bars recalled ICE detention centers. A rusting steel scaffold appeared to be propping up the whole derelict structure. And at the center of it all, a small man behind a cheap lectern trying to persuade a tired nation that this gimcrack spectacle must never shut down.