Clouds pass over 11th Ave. & 28th St. Sadly, the wide open space of "Hudson Yards," just north, is destined to be more of the same we've seen for the past decade, a massive antiseptic hive for all the corporate drones drawn to wi-fi / bike lane / luxury service industry NYC, now pronounced "nice-y." It's sad to see a city once worthy of dreams, of stories that sought meaning, happily succumb to a living death where the narrative is under corporate control, and meaning just equals money.
I guess it's good I've been in brain-dead economic survival mode for months now, without time to fret over the fate of the world, much less this easily seduced city. I am turning into a drone, and by the time my transformation is complete, the city's will be too, and we'll all live happily ever after in a massive iPhone Puppet Show -- tracked and guided by caring corporate voices through the aisles of life, friction and worry free -- free at last of the need to decide which way the story goes, free at last of the burden of meaning.
