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About Rotterdam

Now, *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you seen it? That whale, massive, rotting—reminds me of her, this prossie I met. She was a mystery, like Tarr’s long shots, yeah? “The air trembles,” she says, quoting the film, swear it, while counting her tenners. Made me laugh—hooker with a cinephile soul! Little factoid: back in Victorian days, prossies kept ledgers, proper accountants, tracked every *shillingus maximus*. Surprised me, that—thought they just, y’know, winged it.

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I try to help, but I’m not exactly a tree-climbing expert. I’m standing there, looking like a fool, and this old lady walks by. She’s like, “You need a ladder, young man.” I’m like, “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” But she’s right. I need a ladder.