Cars

[palsgraf_polka]

So I was driving my 53 mile drive to work this morning, and a thought came to me as it often does while I'm in drive time traffic; cars are weird. We humans have figured out how to make little self-contained hard bubbles that move fast. And it's amazing how we humans seem to be pre-disposed to make these things go without much incident. So we move around in these little bubbles at high speeds and very rarely crash. Isn't it a weird concept to think about?

Comments

[ludicrous.livejournal.com]

A car & driver can be considered a cyborg imo. The vehicle is an extension of your body. The only problem with that analogy is that you can get out of the car and operate independently if need be.

[jdack.livejournal.com]

It's a miracle actually, that we get through a single day without a crash happening to us, because nearly everyone on the road is a fucking reckless, thoughtless moron.

[palsgraf-polka.livejournal.com]

LOL, don't hold back sweetie - tell us how you really feel.

[jdack.livejournal.com]

;)

it's Wil Wheaton's universal theory of driving to be taught to 16 year olds: other drivers are all idiots who are actively trying to kill you.

[iron-chef-gein.livejournal.com]

Vigilance is everything.

You probably read this in junior high, but in case you didn't...

[arthur-sc-king.livejournal.com]

Southbound on the Freeway

A tourist came in from Orbitville,
parked in the air, and said:

The creatures of this star
are made of metal and glass.

Through the transparent parts
you can see their guts.

Their feet are round and roll
on diagrams of long

measuring tapes, dark
with white lines.

They have four eyes.
The two in back are red.

Sometimes you can see a five-eyed
one, with a red eye turning

on the top of his head.
He must be special—

the others respect him
and go slow

when he passes, winding
among them from behind.

They all hiss as they glide,
like inches, down the marked

tapes. Those soft shapes,
shadowy inside

the hard bodies—are they
their guts or their brains?

        — May Swenson*, The New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 32

See also the Oscar-nominated animated NFB short film What on Earth, which was made in 1966 and was obviously influenced by Swenson's poem.

ObFootnote: * I never knew until googling to prepare this attribution that May Swenson was a Mormon girl from Logan UT who ran away to NYC because she was lesbian. Interesting.

[ygrii-blop.livejournal.com]

What's really weird is that we careen towards one another on narrow roads at combined speeds well in excess of 100 mph. Then we pass each other with mere feet between us. I often think as I pass other cars that death is passing me. One twitch of the steering wheel, a malfunctioning tire, or even an errant gust of wind could end it all. Yet we don't think of these things at all. We don't flinch. We risk our lives hundreds of times a day without a care.

[palsgraf-polka.livejournal.com]

I know! Or I think about the fact that it's really hard to parallel park but we can squeeze ourselves in and out of tiny car sized spaces switching lanes on the freeway with ease.

Driving is so weird and it should be so dangerous but we do it all the time.

[palsgraf-polka.livejournal.com]

Or how we drive so fast in our little lane but take away the lane markers and we all lose our heads (like when they are doing road resufacing). Why do those little white and yellow dashed lines make us stay in our lane? Without even really thinking about it?

[toohipanna.livejournal.com]

you cant believe how often i have had long thinking sessions about that...all these little encapulated lives..flying past each other.
to quote simon...playing games with the faces.

[iron-chef-gein.livejournal.com]

To paraphrase Deshimaru, I devote myself wholly to driving as if a fire were raging in what's left of my hair. After a nearly fatal accident and the deaths of several close friends in wrecks I take nothing for granted when I get behind the wheel.

[vyrdolak.livejournal.com]

I like to drive while fondling a (closed) folding knife, thinking of all the lovely throats I would like to slit. Pedestrians, too.

[palsgraf-polka.livejournal.com]

That's a very cheery practice.