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What's not awesome about cemeteries in parking lots? The very symbol of capitalistic fervour, the parking lot, set against the Great Equalizer. Because behind every sprawling tarmac is a Type-A personality with an implanted Bluetooth headset, a half-decaf no-fat machiatto, and a heart about to go coronary any moment. His suit shimmering with fine fibre of no-doubt Italian origin, his hair coiffed in what can be best described as 'slick', shades that cost more than my car, surveying the scene as he quibbles with contractors and city hall on how he's going to get the zoning permits in time for the next great paen to shopping box stores.
But there it is. A damn cemetery right between the Odyssey and Passat. Filled with worm-food that once upon a time strove for the best and brightest, the mostest and richest that life had to offer.
A parking lot is also a symbol for sprawling suburbanization: the big box stores and the shopping malls with two food-courts, all over the last nesting place for a migratory bird species that no one in any position of power cared about. A parking lot says concentration! Pulling everything together in one spot so that people in cars can find you off the Inster-state to waste twice as much gas to find a parking spot 3 feet closer.
Economies of scale, is the thing. Which is really, we're making this much, but we could be making (makes a hand gesture that just looks like you're waiting for someone to measure your wingspan) this much! More more more more!
And then the humble plot of untarmaced land. A reminder that all that bustle and hustle isn't buying you anything that matters.
What's not awesome about cemeteries in parking lots? The very symbol of capitalistic fervour, the parking lot, set against the Great Equalizer. Because behind every sprawling tarmac is a Type-A personality with an implanted Bluetooth headset, a half-decaf no-fat machiatto, and a heart about to go coronary any moment. His suit shimmering with fine fibre of no-doubt Italian origin, his hair coiffed in what can be best described as 'slick', shades that cost more than my car, surveying the scene as he quibbles with contractors and city hall on how he's going to get the zoning permits in time for the next great paen to shopping box stores.
But there it is. A damn cemetery right between the Odyssey and Passat. Filled with worm-food that once upon a time strove for the best and brightest, the mostest and richest that life had to offer.
A parking lot is also a symbol for sprawling suburbanization: the big box stores and the shopping malls with two food-courts, all over the last nesting place for a migratory bird species that no one in any position of power cared about. A parking lot says concentration! Pulling everything together in one spot so that people in cars can find you off the Inster-state to waste twice as much gas to find a parking spot 3 feet closer.
Economies of scale, is the thing. Which is really, we're making this much, but we could be making (makes a hand gesture that just looks like you're waiting for someone to measure your wingspan) this much! More more more more!
And then the humble plot of untarmaced land. A reminder that all that bustle and hustle isn't buying you anything that matters.
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