The Great Architect

This has nothing to do with anything, but I was reading this article in the New York Times about the extremes that Disney goes through to manage the theme park “experience.” Long story short, there’s a secret bunker somewhere under Cinderella’s castle filled with people monitoring video displays and computers displaying real-time information about the movement of visitors through the park, the wait time for all the rides and restaurants, and information about whether or not rides are being filled to capacity. They can dispatch parades to draw crowds to less-busy rides, or chastise employees who are not efficiently loading the teacups. (I assume they do this through the radio-control shock collar that is mandatory for all Disney employees. The only people I ever knew who wanted to work at Disney were also people who really loved church camp and the TV show “Boy Meets World.” I know that sounds condescending, although it genuinely describes some of my best friends growing up, and they can probably tolerate my derision, and indeed pity me for the lack of sunshine in my heart.)

Ok, so a few things. 1) I’ve only been to Disneyworld one time, and I have to say, Space Mountain is awesome. It’s a roller coaster in the dark. Hell yeah! And if you don’t want to wait in line, go during the parade at the end of the night. I rode Space Mountain four times in a row while all the suckers were crammed in Main Street watching a bunch of people in costumes and some fireworks. 2)  Anyone with a passing familiarity of science fiction knows a dystopia when they see it. And a secret surveillance bunker under a magical dream castle is IT. 3) One of their ideas in progress is a bracelet that contains information about you, specifically your name, your credit card information, and your favorite Disney character. (It doesn’t say, but I’m going to assume it uses an RFID chip to transmit this data.)

Let me expand on that for a minute. When you enter the park, you can leave worldly things behind. You don’t need to stop to PAY for anything, because you’re in a magical dream world where you wave your arm at some kind of transceiver and then receive a souvenir. Disney characters come up to you and greet you by name and give you a big hug. The next time they see you they remember you. (I can think of some less wholesome more Vegas-y, applications for this kind of technology, feeding into the human desire to enter into a complete fantasy environment.)

Side note: I would like a bracelet with an RFID chip that would transmit a signal to all computers in my vicinity to automatically switch to Georgia font. It’s the best font, and I see no reason why Word should default to Calibri, when I so clearly prefer to use Georgia. My own computer at least should remember my preferences. Saint Zuckerberg, can you hear me? (He’s the patron saint of tech that should exist but doesn’t yet. And no Brett, it doesn’t matter that he’s Jewish.)

In any case, if there’s an “environment” spectrum, it probably goes something like this: 

Wilderness Unknown (The bottom of the ocean. The moon. The human heart.)

Wilderness (The interior of Alaska. The jungles of the Amazon. The slopes of Annapurna.)

Wilderness Known (Backpacker’s paradise.)

Wilderness doorstep (Any “entryway” into deeper wilderness where people cluster for great views, i.e. Old Faithful, the southern rim of the Grand Canyon)

Rural-Wild (The Ozarks, West Virginia, Yellowknife. Places without extensive agriculture but where people live and distill very very hard liquor.)

Rural (Low population, agriculture.)

Suburbs (Where the artifice begins—pretend wilderness and highly designed and manipulated landscapes.)

City (Buildings occasionally interrupted by a park or water front.)

Urban Jungle (Like "The Wire," and much of China.) 

Theme Park