Let them eat Blake's: An excerpt from Behind…

A couple hours later, the ragged silhouette of Tsé Bit’a’í, or Shiprock, rose up ahead of Brautigan, obscured by the brown-yellow gauze of smog and dust and wildfire smoke. He turned eastward toward Farmington and followed the San Juan River through the borderland, where the northeastern edge of the Navajo Nation melds with the non-Indian world in an economic and cultural mishmash. Brautigan passed by a little stand selling tamales and kneel down bread; a one-stop-exploitation-economy strip mall with an OmnyEZLoan joint, a pawn shop, and a liquor store; a sprawling automobile graveyard; a slaughterhouse selling mutton; a barn with a big sign peddling chickens and Avon products; and a bright pink SEX SUPERSTORE shadowed by a huge billboard warning the superstore patrons: JESUS IS WATCHING YOU.

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