All Hell Breaks Loose: City Of Demons (2010)

John Constantine misses bars unlit by the glow of televisions, the freedom to smoke indoors, the days when “people just pissed in the phone boxes.” Simpler times. The kids of twenty-first century London slink around in “man-bhurkas, masking shame” behind hoodies and oversized baseball caps. “They talk jamockney,” Constantine complains, “that horrible bastard language hybrid of all the laziest and worst of every different culture.” They’re not at fault, not even the ones dumb enough to mug John on a quiet night: they’re just “snot-nose kids brought up to believe they’re tenth-rate citizens,” after all, products of decades of institutional failings and years of neglect, oppressed by poverty, driven by fear.

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