Episode Three: City Streets

You love this crazy business.

So many people - navigating their way to arbitrary destinations - to perform arbitrary actions - and somehow as a side-effect of this you arrive at...

The buildings.
The billboards.
The monorail.
Economy.
Government.
Society.

[Look]

You are standing at a busy city intersection. The monorail rains sediment down upon the scene.

A steady stream of people weave their way up and down the path - at intervals across the street.

To your left there is a traffic light - with a button at chest-height.

There is a pedestrian crossing here, but the indicator's indications are negative.

To the north, the train station is steadily recycling pedestrians - one enters, one leaves.

[Look at monorail]

A solid idea: Light-rail suspended above the ground, to provide more granular transport around the city. You could see how this would help to de-cluster the CBD.

But, in application - the monorail is just for tourists, regional visitors. The carriages are too comfortable, the tickets too expensive.

Now it is just a punctual reminder of the city's inability to execute a simple idea.

[Look at people]

Everybody is so well-groomed. Hair is well-aligned, shoes glossy.

Their gait has a peculiar stilted quality - you can hear the inner monologues:


"Just have to keep this skirt unwrinkled until I walk past the boss"

"Just have to keep this fringe neat until I walk past the HR girl"

You attempt a smile, but it is quickly caught in the current and washed downstream.


[Look at traffic light]

It's meaningless. Red - they go, Green - they go.

Taxi drivers, bus drivers, truck drivers - they are far above the traffic laws in this country.

After all - it's not 'fair' to fine somebody for 'just doing their job'.

Tastes a bit like Nuremberg.

[Look at pedestrian crossing]

It's a defined subset of the street at which you can cross when a defined light is a defined color.

If you think too hard about this business, everything becomes so meaningless and contextual that the whole world falls apart.
 

[Look at button]

You read somewhere that these buttons were deactivated a long time ago, and that the pedestrian crossings simply activate at each light change.

But that was a report from London.

The local government can barely coordinate across electorates, much less large spans of water.

[Look at station]

You picture the station as a massive, cartoonish head - chomping up and down on commuters.

Somehow it's not comforting like it should be.

You get a strange urge to play 90s console games.


[Use button]

Don't think about the germs.
Don't think about the germs.
Don't think about the germs.

You press the button.

You think about the germs.

[Use button]


You press the button repeatedly.

When you were younger, somebody suggested that the timer resets upon repeated pressing.
The suggestion irritated you then, and it still irritates you now.

You resolve to punch that person in the eye if you see them again.


[Use button]

You press the button again - and it begins to beep impatiently.

Success.

[Use button] - repeat

The crossing is safe. Relatively safe. Better take advantage of it now.

[Look]

You are standing at a busy city intersection. The monorail rains sediment down upon the scene.

A steady stream of people weave their way up and down the path - at intervals across the street.

To your left there is a traffic light - with a button at chest-height.

To the south there is a pedestrian crossing - and the green man is frantically indicating: "Go! You dogs! Go!"


To the north, the train station is steadily recycling pedestrians - one enters, one leaves.