Later, as they waited for the Knightsbridge traffic to move, Miss Brunner decided that she would drive, and she and Dimitri changed places. They were used to changing places; it held them together in these uncertain times.
2016-02-07 16:08:57 GMT
— Michael Moorcock, The Final Programme: The Cornelius Quartet Book 1 
Jerry sighed and thought that the true aristocracy who would rule the seventies were out in force: the queers and the lesbians and the bisexuals, already half-aware of their great destiny which would be realised when the central ambivalence of sex would be totally recognised and the terms _male_ and _female_ would become all but meaningless. Here they were. As he wandered, he was surrounded by all the possible replacements for sex, one or several of which would become the main driving force for the humanity of circa 2000—light, colour, music, the pin tables, the pill dispensers, the gun ranges—scarcely substitutes for sex any more, but natural replacements.
Within an hour and a half he had parked the Toyota in his reserved space in the Piccadilly Sky Garage and breathed the rich air of the centre with pleasure. He never felt really comfortable unless he had at least fifteen miles of built-up area on all sides; and here he was happiest, walking towards Leicester Square and the Blue Boar Tavern for a quick cocktail. It wasn’t natural, he felt, for a man to have to live any other way.
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