"“I got on the bus. There followed an hours-long odyssey during which I made two important discoveries: (1) that London is, in a way I’d never understood before, a vast and sleeping brain, a neural net crisscrossed with dreams, and that the red double-decker buses are the vessels that carry these dreams; and (2) that the iPhone SIM card I had picked up at a vending machine at Heathrow just 100 percent did not work. Without GPS, I had no choice but to change buses at random (the way our ancestors traveled), and I made every conceivable error that goes with trying to decipher an information system that works on dream logic. I took the 93 toward North Cheam — like an idiot! — when I thought I was going to Putney Bridge. I missed a stop while watching a cane-carrying blind man have a conversation with a Buddhist monk. I rode out to the blurry fringes of London, feeling myself being carried farther and farther from reality. Eventually I became acclimated to the system and realized that if you just paid attention to the signs it was actually very easy to work out. I now recognize this moment as the one in which I lost contact with reality altogether.”"

- finally, I have time to read all the Grantland posts about men’s tennis.