a home with a view
Disguised as a sweet little home, the panopticon is perched atop a tower sufficient to provide views up and down the river and up and down the tracks—up and down all the lands between. The official voyeur spends his time between meals/sleeping/scrolling/game playing, eyeing the comings and goings of targeted individuals through worn and greasy binoculars. He receives a notification from fellow onlookers when a suspect travels nearby. There’s one about every two miles or so scattered along the route that undesirables often transit. Without a warning from his buddies, he would miss the targets in favor of watching a dispatch from his favorite influencer or feeding his digital barnyard pets. His notification tone is set to the song “Rubber Duckie,” which is surprising given his girth, grizzled visage, bald head, and perpetually dirty skin and clothes. Perhaps the song is aspirational, or it could be an intentional irritant like those who set their tones to that extremely loud fire station alert. “Rubber Duckie” might set his rabid mind ablaze at the thought of a bathtub full of clean water. His name is Gus Stone. You may have read him. He’s published vast troves of critical scholarship on postmodernity. His favorite building was the Binoculars Building before Google bought it. Now he grumbles it’s the Weston Bonaventure Hotel and has always been so. He claims of dreaming of staying there if he is ever allowed to leave his little perched house. Truth is, nobody keeps him there. He’s a true voyeur and is only trapped by his need to watch. As the boat floats within Gus’ gaze, Eddie emerges from his below deck hiding.
Eddie: (gesturing toward the house above) Location, location, location.
Dani: It’s all about the view.
Eddie: It’s probably abandoned, right?
Dani: No.
Eddie: Oh.
Dani: It’s a railroad worker. A guy named Gus or something, used to be a preacher at the First Church of the Possible. Now he watches the rails, makes sure the trains are where the machines say they are.
Eddie: Sounds like new age mumbo jumbo.
Dani: Mumbo Jumbo is a man dressed up as a god who beats his wife while his other wives laugh at her.
Eddie: Hey, the next time we pull up at a dock I think I’m going to try my luck walking a bit.
Dani: Had a friend who went to the First Church of the Possible every Sunday. He said it was the thinking man’s religion. For people smart enough to know they don’t know shit.
Eddie: So, is that okay? I mean, I’m glad, you know, to have, glad that you’ve allowed, it’s just that I’m, I think I might be better on dry land.
Dani: Anything’s possible. There could be some god that started this whole chaotic mess billions of years ago, or it could be that I’m just an NPC in a simulation you don’t even realize you’re playing.
Eddie: Is there a dock we can tie up to up here somewhere?
Dani: I know what you’re looking for. I’ve got a place for you.
Eddie: Actually, I’m more of a loner.
Dani: Eddie, you’re stuck with me. I’ve got a plan. You are a part of my plan. So, shut the fuck up and relax.
