The Cliff Walker
The Cliff Walker I often wonder what it is that 'makes' a suicide spot. Is it just a semi-random accumulation of infamy around some place, each act of self-annihilation leading inexorably to another, or is there something more inherent, some genius loci that draws people to certain landmarks, something beyond the simple availability of means? There are surely many woods where hanging corpses are almost never found, many high places from which people rarely hurl themselves. Perhaps there is something in the air, or the arrangement of scenery that calls to the despairing. Certainly, it seems that some locations offer a grander aesthetic experience that appeals to a certain sort of suicide. Hundreds more die annually on the London Underground than ever plummet off of Beachy Head, but where is the romance of being smeared under the 19:09 to Upminster? Yet practicality is important even in these grim matters, and the sandy cliffs that range from about a