Monday, May 01, 2006

The post in which fantasy intrudes on reality and I have trouble distinguishing 'twixt

Whenever they have the tornado sirens/warning alarm here in Manhattan, it freaks me out. Not the siren itself. That's straightforward enough. BEEEEyuuuuuuuuuBEEEEyuuuuuuBOOP-BOOP-BOOP-etc.

No, it's the voice on the loudspeaker afterward, drifting over this whole backwater burg like some oppressive fog, momentarily smothering everything, pausing life for a second while it has its say. That freaks me out.

That p.a. voice, instructing us, telling us it's only a test, machine-like and yet rigid with authority and dominance--shudder. I half expect it to instruct us to remain in our houses, while a swarm of black helicopters circle in from the clouds, masses of gun-toting government agents in identical black biohazard suits rappelling from them into the street. Then, while the p.a. voice keeps instructing us, the agents march house to house, rounding up civilians, sleek black Humvees having cordoned off all major exits from the city.

"Manhattan, Kansas? What's that? I've never heard of that town before."

Or maybe one just shouldn't mix late night readings of crackpot libertarian literature with excessive ruminations on possible dystopian futures sparked by the coming technology explosion.

And, y'know, a nagging nervousness about zombie viruses doesn't help much either.


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