Ali in his corner brushing up on Psychological Warfare ITIN circa ’99 + Discard, a collab of Driftwould and Paperandme of The Library Project.
The birds have been eaten and the movies watched and wine turned all to headaches, every ounce… So, like leftovers, I heat up a short surveillance about parking in Brooklyn. All those lovely leaves are off the trees and the street sweepers are dead serious about clearing the streets of them. November rain and leaves in the gutter have a way of spelling flooded subway. It’s put the screws on the already tense game of opposite side of the street parking. There is small lesson to be learned about conflict (The Chinese say: Life is War, Living is Strategy and Tactics… It’s something you can supposedly see in their character for I, or self which is derived from a pictogram of two battle axes crossed like pirate bones or swords, or keys on a European Coat of Arms). If you can’t get it together with your neighbors on a national holiday, or actaully national hangover day, how can you expect any real peace in the Mid East,or Africa, or….Name the nation?
Now I’ve been thinking about this subject anyway, as the characters have hit the main train Hub at Interlaken where they must detrain and either shop in Interlakken, or decide on a more glamorous city to tour. This is a conflict too. I imagine him arguing for Zurich and the Bonhaufstrasse.
“It’s one of the most famous shopping streets in the world,” he says. “You’ll love it. It’s like Park Avenue, or the Champs Elysee. The most exclusive boutiques.”
“Zurich doesn’t interest me,”she says.
“Why?”
“They speak German. It is pointless to shop for clothes where they speak German. We should go to Geneva.”
“Why?”
“There’s no such thing as the Zurich Convention now is there?”
“No,but I mean… Geneva? It’s a sleepy sort of town filled with diplomats and beauracrats.”
“Exactly. Who shops more than the wives of politicians?”
“I don’t know.”
“The mistresses…. Besides, the Geneva train is right there,” and she points to a jaunty, sleek, and elegant blue train. It is a beautiful train and the sign does indicate it is going to Geneva. The ease of it, wins the argument.
“Geneva it is,”he says and they climb the stairs of the train and show their rail pass to the conductor.
It is probably here, where he tells her about the Swiss Army, or maybe his is reading a copy of John McPhee’s Place de la Concorde Suisse. I like to think that they play a game out the window of trying to spot the camoflaged artillery, the underground aircraft-carrier-style steam catapaults, the highway landing fields, the entrances to enormous bomb shelters, etc. I like to think they are staring out the window at the beautiful landscapes and trying to see the nest of bees that’s buzzing just underneath.
And in every station along the line, military units are loitering around, smoking with their machine guns.
“Must be time for maneuvers,” he says.
“It’s like I’m in a movie from the forties. I’ve never seen somany service men… so many guns. I’m not sure if I feel safe, or totally terrified.”
“Fortress Switzerland,” he says.
“You ain’t kidding,” she says and they roll through the valleys and around the lakes towards Geneva.
Boxing Aliens. A collab with Facecrunch from The Library Project.