15 Nov 2019
The track “Methane Dreams (V3)” from my latest album Antimony contains a section in the middle which is essentially a speech I wrote independently of the song. I later incorporated it into the song as I realised the rhythm and song concept worked well together.
I wanted to lay it out here and go a bit more into detail with what I mean with each section, as it could be easy to misinterpret.
Before we jump in, here is the full unedited “speech”:
The problem with humanity is that we can’t be trusted; we are the teachers, we are the drivers, we are the leaders, but we are just people. What is it to be human? What is it to think, to be aware of one’s self? To realise you are free to move anywhere right now, to leave your home, to slam the door, to break a few plates, to steal a handbag, to maim, to kill;
it is this freedom along with a lack of good mentorship, good parenting, and a good basic globally-standardised framework for civic behaviour which scares me. That’s why we can’t be trusted, we can’t be trusted with guns, we can’t be trusted with financial decisions, we can’t be trusted with our lives nor the lives of others, we can’t be trusted with our future.
This rabbit hole ends with computers:
We need computer overlords, for a while. We need a standardised system of mentorship until humanity is ready to make big decisions such as “should we allow guns?”, “should we allow people to take all these pills?”, “should we close our borders and set up walls?”. Walls won’t stop chaos; the chaos is within, the chaos is in each and every one of us, waiting to be stirred up until madness erupts.
And some keep it quiet, some drown the fear in wine, some realise their power and choose peace and warmth over fear, but some let it loose, claiming lives, leading to strict laws and more fear, leading to paranoia, leading to a police state, leading to repression, leading to unrest, repeating in endless cycles.
And only through good mentorship can we be at peace with ourselves, with our neighbours, with humanity, to a degree where we can be trusted again. Stark, but necessary.
Background:
In 2019 the world is somewhat chaotic; you could argue it’s no more chaotic than in the past, it is probably much less so, but the information superhighway gives us unprecedented speed and quantity of news, which is overwhelming sometimes (or most of the time).
Hence we hear much more frequently of massacres, violence, feminicides, sexual abuse, tragedies, extortion, massive data breaches, hacks, insane crimes, and mad people committing bizarre acts. We have politicians whom a lot of us consider borderline crazy, parliaments that reach no consensus, and a divided populace.
I was pondering how we can solve this? Are we going crazy? What is crazy? Is crazy sometimes avoidable through guidance? How would you guide someone? Are the parents responsible? What about the schools? Or maybe it is up to us to understand how to act in society, how to be responsible, how to act towards others, how to respect.
When I say crazy I don’t mean people with severe or uncontrollable mental illness, I mean those that are misguided and have thoughts that veer towards harm, violence, crime, or hatred; which those people might not even view as negative but just as part of who they are.
What about “being ourselves”? They say we all wear a mask, and sometimes even more than one.
Where do the boundaries between being disingenuous, being courteous, and being real lie?
Given an upbringing where you are taught so many things but not enough “sticks” and you don’t really understand why you are taking a civics class from an uninteresting teacher who is reciting material from a basic book with no concrete examples, it is easy to understand how you can end up growing up not knowing why you are here, confused about your realness, wondering what is real and what is not, bewildered by other people talking to you, trying to figure out how to reply, and if you reply what voice should you use? What tone? Do you need to look at a person directly?
Given a decent salary and a decent workplace this could just be derided as existentialist questions: A confused person wandering through a workplace wondering why he/she works, what is the reason aside from money?
But given a troubled background, a lack of money, an ailment, and things can turn much worse.
This is where the thoughts behind this “speech” come from. How do we set a basic foundation across the globe, where background, money, race, gender, have nothing to do with obtaining a basic level of education, tailored to the receiver, where an understanding can be obtained of the basics of society, interactions, freedom (and lack of), civics, religion, respect, and responsibility can be learned.
Maybe that would lead to slightly less chaos, less murder, less confusion, less violence, less rape, …
Let’s analyse the “speech” in more detail:
The problem with humanity is that we can’t be trusted; we are the teachers, we are the drivers, we are the leaders, but we are just people.
We have more power than we think we have. Each profession holds more responsibilities than it would seem. That said, you must think of each person, regardless of what they do, as an intelligent being similar to yourself, just on a different trajectory, and each of these people could have a world of mad ideas going on in their brains, we might have completely different views on things, so we much respect.
I used to think when I was younger “How can anyone understand what I am thinking?”, I used to doubt people could see the world the same way I did, I wondered if they kneeled down and inspected ants and other creatures and wondered about their lives and their purpose.
What I mean is: it doesn’t matter. Every person thinks differently, and views things differently, and that does not make them less intelligent, so even though we are not equals (with regards to views, thoughts, perspectives), we are equals as we are all going down paths. Different paths, but paths that involve interacting with others nonetheless.
When you see the world this way then cosplayers, furries, and gender dysphoria become not only tolerable, but you can be emphatic to people who are different to you.
You understand people can be on radically different paths, and become curious and want to understand more about how they think and why they make certain choices, in an effort to be more understanding and respectful towards them.
Coming back to “we are the drivers“… We literally are at the wheel, what is to stop us ramming into a crowd (as has happened before)? Basic but fulfilling education on the aforementioned topics would lead to less of these situations, as people will not only more aware, but will deeply understand the consequences of their actions on other humans that are just trying to get by.
What is it to be human? What is it to think, to be aware of one’s self? To realise you are free to move anywhere right now, to leave your home, to slam the door, to break a few plates, to steal a handbag, to maim, to kill
Here I am simply elaborating further on this. We hold incredible power, and it is scary once you realise you can do anything.
I sometimes have DP/DR (depersonalisation / derealisation), which are situations where you either don’t feel like yourself, you have an overwhelming sense of not knowing who you are, what your personality is, you feel an outer-body experience. It is sometimes triggered by social anxiety, but sometimes it might just be a wild thought that triggers it. Or sometimes I feel the world is fake, the people are plastic, and I start wondering: Why is this person at the bus stop? Is the person really there? Why is the person not moving left right now? Why not right? Why not backwards? What is the person thinking that makes him/her remain in that spot. Where is he/she going? To work? Why? Apart from money, why do anything at all? Why move? Why eat?
It used to scare me. But after much pondering I realised I can make good use of this way of thinking. We just have to think one step further:
Why not?
We can remain static, but we are already here, and if we can’t do anything about that, then why not do something instead?
That thought (inspired by something similar I heard on a video on YouTube) caused a cascade of thoughts over the following couple of years that led to this “speech”.
it is this freedom along with a lack of good mentorship, good parenting, and a good basic globally-standardised framework for civic behaviour which scares me. That’s why we can’t be trusted, we can’t be trusted with guns, we can’t be trusted with financial decisions, we can’t be trusted with our lives nor the lives of others, we can’t be trusted with our future.
What I am saying here is that we keep making the same mistakes; not only at a macro level where nations can’t agree, some implement policies to limit, sometimes with the backing of the people, sometimes against their wills. Other nations are more liberal. There is no consensus on drugs, weapons, criminal law, etc.
However the point I want to make here is at an individual level. We are erratic, we are going through the same doubts, we are unpredictable, which some could argue is the art of being human, but whilst it can be a blessing, it can also be a catalyst of chaos, destruction, errors.
In other words, trustworthiness should be inherent, we should all assume that each and every person around us is accountable and has received the same basic education about civility, courteousness, politeness and attitude, to a degree where we can be fearless towards one another, upholding hospitality and empathy.
This rabbit hole ends with computers: We need computer overlords, for a while.
I am not talking about AI. I am talking about a global set of standards and education, enforced by computers, which every human worldwide must go through before “freedom” is given to him/her.
Before you start screaming in the comments, hear me out:
By freedom I don’t mean enforcing its non-free individuals via oppression… I simply mean that passing this education would create a record of his/her passing through basic set of global standard courses. This person not only learned, but has engrained in him/herself the basic principles of interaction and respect in society.
I am not talking about the standardised education system in the US either. I don’t think we should standardise education and tests in subjects like history, geography, mathematics, physics, computer science, economy, biology, or music & arts. Instead I believe those should still be taught at a regional or personal level; but some things should be inherent to society, some things apply to all of us.
We need a standardised system of mentorship until humanity is ready to make big decisions such as “should we allow guns?”, “should we allow people to take all these pills?”, “should we close our borders and set up walls?”. Walls won’t stop chaos; the chaos is within, the chaos is in each and every one of us, waiting to be stirred up until madness erupts.
We fear terror. We fear invaders. We fear immigrants. We fear losing our jobs. We fear change.
Most of these are external factors, but threats can come equally as often from the inside. Remember, we are all on different paths, each and every one of us with different levels of education, each of us more or less confused about where we are going and why we are doing things… It only takes a bit of pushing to stir the pot and send us on a rampage.
some keep it quiet, some drown the fear in wine, some realise their power and choose peace and warmth over fear, but some let it loose, claiming lives, leading to strict laws and more fear, leading to paranoia, leading to a police state, leading to repression, leading to unrest, repeating in endless cycles. And only through good mentorship can we be at peace with ourselves, with our neighbours, with humanity, to a degree where we can be trusted again. Stark, but necessary.
It’s not the many but the few that are the issue.
It just takes one mad man with a few rifles and a few hundred bullets to create chaos. It just takes a few hijackers to cause destruction and hundreds of deaths. It just takes a few words to change a confused, insecure and anxious person’s attitude, for better or for worse.
We need a baseline.
Addendum:
Some of what I said here might be obvious to you, maybe it’s just standard knowledge, or maybe you learned a thing or two. I hope at the very least it helped explain some of my thoughts in that song. I firmly believe we all absorb knowledge in slightly different ways. Even though I barely learned a thing in civics class in primary school, I feel I finally learned a thing or two using a different learning approach. I feel given the internet, and vast information on how we communicate and learn, computers could craft a better, personalised baseline education system that we can all benefit from.
07 Nov 2018
Karaf, my latest album, is out now!
Click here to listen to the album!
If you’d like to read the story behind the album you can click here, and you can read the lyrics here, or on each individual song on Soundcloud.
Thanks a lot to everyone who helped with the production, mixing and reviews of the album, as well as the_vicken for the album art. I really appreciate your support!
Sign up to the newsletter to receive new album updates:
And feel free to follow @lemiffe if you enjoy the album:
Spotify
03 Nov 2018
All the Other Times
Where are you (4x)
Summer has gone
dreaming on, brother.
Autumn has come,
full of fun.
Dance with the dog,
lie on the floor,
he passes out.
Where are you?
Where are you?
All the other times, we were the sons it was a mystery,
hope it never - hope it never ends.
Where are you?
Where are you?
All the other times, we were the men it was a mystery,
hope it never - hope it never ends.
Had enough of this,
Had enough of this.
(chorus)
Floating
Floating away, again.
Rubber, rubber soles below my feet,
I’m tired, but running on; I dream.
Faster than all, I dream I’ll never fall,
Fighting the cold, and dreaming all day long.
And you go and you go and carry on,
and you go and you go and carry on,
and you try to never lose control,
and you try to never lose control.
Flying Down the Road
They say how it creeps,
they say how it breaks down your soul,
but I’m not stopping - now, no
fools gold and crypto wows,
Waiting for gains,
checking the charts,
every day
pouring my heart
into digital dribble, w000w w00w w000w,
Not to me, not me, not today man,
no no no no no no no.
And when you find out,
that I’m not around,
you’re calling me - calling me home,
I’m out and about,
no fears and no doubts,
you’re calling me - calling me home.
I flew away that night my dear,
fish and chips are in my mind and my soul,
I needn’t realise I’d go so far,
you never know when your mind’s on a roll,
As the night falls (I) set aside my fears,
the way the stars shine remind me of your tears.
(chorus)
A Few Drinks
The land and the farm laid abandoned,
letters flying off the doorstep,
on a breezy day in autumn,
writing notes lest we forget,
empty rooms and broken bottles,
from a man that used to be,
but the burden and the sorrow
were too much, he had to leave.
Hey, what’s a few drinks,
what’s a few blinks in space and time,
what’s a few bottles,
what’s a few dawns,
what’s a few thorns inside my head,
and I’m talking to you,
but you turn away,
and you say you’ll be back again some day,
but, what’s a few drinks,
what’s a few things,
what’s a few blows and blows and blows.
Does anybody see me,
does anybody know me,
sometimes feels I’ve disconnected from the world.
Does anybody know him,
does anybody care?
sometimes seems a constant state of disrepair.
(chorus)
I’ll never let you go,
when the bells are singing,
when the bells must toll.
(chorus)
Electric Dawn
Fire,
fire and ashes,
burn our home,
and our dreams and our takeaway meals.
You,
come from a crevice,
tactically,
as we deploy our hotfix.
Gone,
gone are the years,
when we’d program at night,
and we’d listen to rock and we’d drink till we’d drop.
You walk through the door,
an electric storm,
you burst into flames that night,
have you seen - an electric dawn?
Dawn,
dawn,
dawn,
dawn.
Cold,
barely maintainable,
so complex,
can’t be optimised, so unrefactorable.
We chase,
never give up,
it’s our way,
digging up dirt, building bridges from mud and stone.
You walk through the door,
an electric storm,
you burst into flames that night,
have you seen - an electric dawn?
Thousands
Always at my home,
where am I supposed to go
when I don’t really understand?
I’d been sinking hell-a low.
This neighbourhood… the floor.
Please get out my brain,
been tryin’ to stay sane
but it won’t stop; the rain.
And thus I bought a boat.
This keyboardhood. It’s wrong.
William, how does it go?
I saw you playing piano,
I hope you get the chance,
to play to thousands,
some day. oh.
Part of Me
Part of me wishes I’d never existed to avoid all the pain and the suffering of death,
part of me is scared, running from people, avoiding the silence and hiding from hell,
part of me hopes - part of me listens - working and sweating and carrying the heft,
part of me ravages burns and destroys, and part of me’s ringing and ringing the BELL!
Tonight it is not all about me,
It’s all about me,
but it’s not all about me.
The sound’s so deafening!
Go! Go on and leave!
Partially pondering powerful phrases while wondering what is the meaning of life,
but life has no meaning and not that it matters! We’re already here, and there’s nothing but vice,
whatever the question, whatever the answer, it better to stay …. and put up a fight,
the pandering, bickering, insult delivering, screaming and punching will not make it right!
(chorus)
I was trying to find love,
I was trying to find myself,
I had patiently given up.
When she came in,
I was blown away,
outside of my comfort zone.
(bridge)
(chorus)
Punk Zimmer
“I wanted nothing more of this!”
I told myself as I walked out,
and as I’m streaming down the park,
I - saw - plenty-of-folk about,
but everyone’s on their phones (sign in, sign out),
they look like Instagram drones (follow me, follow me),
and am I losing control? (putting on my headphones)
don’t have to deal with this alone (I’m singing na na na na),
And as I’m watching Interstellar and Hans Zimmer’s epic
saga, tryin’a get to Mexico, I’m tryin’a get to Tokyo, so long,
I’m gonna burn this town.
I step outside to get a drink (and everyone is at the gym),
taking selfies, taking tips (with a trail of trolling dicks),
I need to get out of this town (and take a trip to Amsterdam),
But in my head there’s only shit! (and Britney bitch, and Britney!)
What’s the plan
When you go out at night, what do you see? What do you do?
When you go out at night, where do you go? Who do you meet?
When you go out at night, what do you eat? Where do you sleep?
When you go out at night, where are you going? Where are you going?
Danny met at half past eight, a pack of beer, a bottle of wine,
and after guzzling down 5 pints, we hit the streets at nine
It’s the time of night, the time of night,
it’s the time of night, time to fight.
Oh hello, I’m in a bit of a pickle,
you see, my friend’s too drunk to walk,
and all the taxis shut their doors.
When you go out at night, can you stand up? Can you get back?
When you go out at night, where are you going? Where are you going?
Danny broke his brother’s nose, the blood was spilling everywhere,
and as I tried to drag him home, he fell asleep again.
Watch it!
I set him down,
and called my friend,
the night was gone,
and very cold,
and very cold,
and very cold,
and very cold.
Danny woke at half past one, amazed, he couldn’t understand,
why there’s blood upon his shirt, he fell asleep again.
It’s the time of night, the time of night,
it’s the time of night, time to fight.
The Tide
The beach is far…
(too lazy to write down the rest of the lyrics, sorry 😂)
Dp/Dr
Home, home at last,
in my head, heaven knows,
I reach, for the curtains,
and I see, plastic people, lost.
So turn the light away,
so turn the light away from me,
I don’t wanna know what’s next
So turn the light away,
so turn the light away from me,
I don’t wanna die just yet.
02 Nov 2018
Making an album is always a weird, convoluted process.
For some people it might be a week at a studio recording previously rehearsed material, for others it might be sitting in front of a computer computer every night for weeks with a midi keyboard and a bunch of VST, but for this album the process was very different to how I usually work.
It started off as a demo I made back in 2005 using Mod Plug Tracker. I made 5 tracks, all using samples, from pianos to basic kicks and snares, and a few choirs and synths interspersed.
I forgot about it for 3 years, then in 2008 I made a feeble attempt at mastering the tracks to put them on Spotify. I say feeble as I didn’t have much knowledge of audio engineering and production back then.
Then in 2018 I got to work re-releasing all my previous material on Spotify, iTunes, etc. I briefly re-visited and remastered a bunch of albums, but when I got to this one from 2005 (titled 22” Speed Rail), I listened to it a couple of times and realised it had potential.
It sounded like nothing on the scene at this time. And it brought me back to when I wrote that music; I was a big fan of Linkin Park, RHCP, Limp Bizkit, POD, Papa Roach, Korn, and others at the time, and when I initially laid down those tracks I wanted to make something vaguely electronic, but with strong guitar riffs.
Now, my main tool was Mod Plug Tracker, I had no microphones, and I didn’t have much knowledge of recording guitars; so the end result was something akin to a backing track.
I then exported all the original tracks from each .it file and imported each one into new Ableton Live projects. I spent a couple of hours working on the first one: All the Other Times. I added guitar riffs, added quantization for the backing tracks, added VSTis to widen the sounds, added compression and limiters, and started layering new drum tracks and bass riffs.
I started really enjoying what it was turning into.
And this small project which was intended to be a “re-release of a 13 year old album with some heavier riffs, like I wanted to record it back then” quickly turned into “hey, I can make an album out of this”.
So I went digging through other albums for discarded songs, and video sketches I had made years before, and found a few that sounded similar to the style I was trying to craft into the album.
The base (22” Speed Rail) was laid down in Mexico in 2005, some of the other sketches were from 2008-2012) recorded in Scotland, and the rest was from 2017.
I decided to make the theme of the album about relocation, about changing over time, the mind, addiction, pain, and recovery. More importantly, it was about friends, and moving on. And most of the lyrics would revolve around these themes.
I grouped all of these tracks and recorded a few drafts for new songs, and worked on them every day for the following 3-4 months.
It was an arduous process, it always is. I went through the usual roller-coaster of “this is crap, I’m throwing it all away”, to “this is the best thing I have ever made”.
Subtle changes to the mix can change everything during the recording process.
At some point in time I had songs with rap lyrics, distorted guitars, funky electronic bass lines, clean pianos. It was a bit chaotic.
So I set out to do something I had not done before: Ask for feedback.
Usually by this stage I just kinda wrap-up, do a half-arsed attempt at mastering, and release it, knowing it’s not what I wanted to do, but it was “good enough, I guess”.
But this time I wanted to make something I was proud of, something I can release and not be afraid to share it with friends or family. Something I can listen back to in a few years and say “Woah”.
So I released a rough alpha version and asked a few friends and colleagues to do an “MR Review”. In the programming world, an MR or PR review is when you write code and make a “pull request” which is a request to merge in your changes to the main code base. Then your peers can review your code and request changes, give props, and make comments.
In a similar way I didn’t just want a music review, I wanted a detailed overview of NTHs (nice-to-haves), PPs (personal preferences), REQs (required changes), and Qs (questions).
I got my feedback after a few days, then took a couple of weeks to make those changes. I then released a beta version and sent it to one more friend who hadn’t listened to the alpha (a musician I greatly respect). He only had 3-4 comments to make which was a blast for me to listen to, I was expecting another massive list of changes.
So I made those changes and decided it was time to chill out for a few weeks and come up with a release plan. As I said earlier, it would have been way too easy to be all excited and just click that publish button. But I wanted to do things properly, whether people listen to it or not, I wanted to make a few interesting ads, release a single, record a video, contact people in the industry, etc.
And this is what led to the release of the album.
It’s always a journey but you don’t start out thinking “I’m going to make an album”, sometimes the start is just a song, or an idea, or an old album that you thought you could improve.
Click here to check it out :)
Thanks to everyone that helped out, as well as those who sent me comments, it inspires me to keep going and record new material.
Until next time!
Follow @lemiffe for more music!
20 Jun 2018
Gone, is the vibrant community
Beautiful neighbourhood
Scattered bricks, crumpled roads.
Bent pipes releasing toxic gases
are left to inhabit this land today.
One wonders how it all began
when and how it will all end,
and what became of the people
Who lived in the town that was.
by Diana M. Helm
The weather was cloudy, almost threatening to rain. More and more cars arrived at the parking area. A small crowd started to assemble around the stage.
You could feel the commotion that Sunday afternoon in late July, 2062. The majority of the crowd was ecstatic, except for a few with mixed feelings. Some people seriously doubted the ideas that paved the path towards this event, others felt resentment as this had been their land, their town, but most attendees believed fervently in the ideal of a modern centralised society.
Less waste, less consumption, more space, more humanity.
By 2020 the last residents of the original Centralia either passed away or moved to adjacent towns. The town was flattened shortly after. The children and grandchildren of the last Centralians all stood together that day, most of them silent, as they knew the story all too well.
The fire that burned endlessly in the mine underneath the borough since 1962 had finally stopped; the land stood still for a couple of decades, and slowly began to be used for agriculture.
After over a hundred years of toying around with the concept and creation of centralised towns, the great minds finally nailed it. In order for everyone to be happy, they should not have to go to the city centre; they should be able to do everything from home, whilst requiring the least amount of appliances, and consuming the least amount of energy.
After the great oil crisis, we finally cracked down on wasting resources. Coal and oil were banned completely due to the irreversible effects on the environment that only became more notable year after year, thus solar became the primary source of energy. The population also increased dramatically due to medical advances, which led to strain on the electrical grid.
The only way to truly reduce emissions and energy expenditure was to remove the majority of household appliances, automobiles, and the last polluting industries. Controlling energy waste became the top priority in the late 30s.
During the following decades, ideas about centralised societies became more prevalent, leading to small experiments, but the technology wasn’t there yet.
Many towns and small cities started adopting limited centralised infrastructure, with the goal of implementing similar systems in larger cities.
First, waste management was centralised. Tubes ran from kitchens to underground facilities, they would suck out the household rubbish, recycle what was possible, and compact + deposit the rest in a rubbish facility twice the size of the town. It was fully automated with classifiers, sorters, recycling facilities, compacters, and incinerators.
It was the brainchild of Dr. Alexandra Rae Jr., and it was beautiful. It completely eliminated the need for garbage collectors, waste management specialists, and smelly bins outside houses.
Her idea had been received with great aplomb. Counties and cities all over the country began implementing it during the 40s. She began patenting multiple ideas to improve basic services for pre-existing towns without requiring substantial expense. However, she couldn’t realise her vision of a utopian city as she was found dead in her villa in 2048.
Till this day no one has been found guilty. The community suspected involvement from Mr. Patrick Hester, a local inventor who had terrible luck for most of his life. He had been promoting a variation of Dr. Rae’s ideas for just over 12 years with very little success while Dr. Rae was still alive.
Patrick Hester and his associates then came up with a series of ideas to centralise all basic services, thus giving birth to the concept of a truly centralised town. One of the most interesting aspects of this system was the washing and drying mechanism.
Clothes nowadays come with RFID tags, so it was a natural extension of the idea to build centralised washing facilities. Every day people would drop their clothes into tubes, and they would be sucked all the way to the washing station which was located underground. The size of the washing drums were massive, spanning the size of a house. Each facility would have 5-10 of these.
Experts found that having a single large washing machine would provide slightly better energy and water use than having hundreds of smaller machines.
Afterwards, clothes would be sorted by RFID tag and sent back up the tubes powered by fast & explosive bursts of air to the correct owners.
Every now and then there would probably be a mistake, and people would receive the wrong clothes. But it would be easily corrected by sending them back down again and waiting for a few minutes.
On paper everything sounded beautiful. The computer models displayed a 75% energy use reduction with this new type of system. The system was finished and tested merely weeks before the town’s re-inauguration day.
Patrick gave the opening words at the ceremony:
“Welcome everybody, to the official inauguration of New Centralia. Not only does this day represent a shift forward for humanity, but also a rekindled passion for this city. Many of the people from the original Centralia are here today, after having moved to nearby towns. However, in their hearts some of you always wished to return to your home town. We chose Centralia to make this vision a reality not only because of it’s name, but because of it’s location, now that the seas have risen and started narrowing our shorelines, we need to learn to build efficient cities further inland. Additionally, the caverns left by the great fires have given us ample space to build infrastructure and facilities. But more importantly, we chose this place due to the passion of the people here, with admiration for those who clung on to their town regardless of the smoke columns and health effects. We hope to at least be able to serve you as best as possible, given that the government did not act in time during the start of the fire, so this is our way of paying back for our mistakes.”
Some people cheered, some barely reacted. The crowd was rather large by this time. Among the visitors stood Jeremy Nixon, governor of Pennsylvania. Jeremy proceeded to cut a ribbon symbolising the importance of this day, as Patrick waved to the crowd.
Behind the podium you could see the structure and layout of the city, which looked so different from the grid system implemented in most cities in the USA.
You were in Cumbernauld some time ago. You went there to study the failed designs of the 20th century. You thought you could do so much better, but don’t you remember the problems plaguing Cumbernauld’s infrastructure and layout? How will this overcome them? Are you basing this on the ideas expressed in the old movie Zeitgeist? Or on the first ring of the city of Palmanova in Italy?
You blatantly ripped off her ideas, whilst increasing the complexity of her design. The more parts in a system, the more likely failure becomes.
You turned ever so slightly towards Governor Nixon; you observed a few drops of sweat trickling down his face, and the stains on his white shirt. You are visibly uncomfortable as well, will it work as expected? You rushed the implementation due to lack of proper estimates, and now everything was up in the air: Either it would become a success story, where the model could be applied to other cities across the country, or it would become a total failure, your ruin.
You looked once again towards the town, where hundreds of homes had already been built. The government was subsidising part of the cost, hence there was a long line of potential new home owners lining up at the booths. Contracts were signed, home owners smiled, bankers smirked, and you sat down to enjoy the celebration.
Over the following weeks people moved into their new homes, trying out the new systems.
Homes were spacious, there was so much room now that all appliances were unnecessary. No washing machines, no driers, no boilers, no fridges, no dishwashers, no cookers, no heaters, just white walls and couches. Now that AR was ubiquitous, screens were obsolete, as well as decorations. Everything customisable, virtual, perfect.
One inconvenience of this system was a hum that was heard throughout the day, a rumbling underground. It reminded some people of the fire in the coal mines. But it was the washing machines, the heaters, the giant dishwashers, and the items and liquids going up and down the tubes.
Apart from a few minor glitches, everything seemed to be functioning correctly. People mostly worked remotely from either their homes, or the spacious office spaces scattered throughout the city.
Those who didn’t work remotely found work at the pristine supermarkets, one of the jobs that was not completely replaced by Amazon despite their attempts in the late 2010s. Even though food and supplies could be received from the comfort of your home, for those who wished to socialise there were be large green parks with small restaurants and shops nearby.
Quite a few people also worked in the city centre, supervising, tending to, and maintaining the machinery underground. Although most departments were automated (including maintenance and part swapping), there was still a need in some departments.
By this time I had been in the city for a couple of weeks, observing and documenting everything, with the aim of publishing an article in a major newspaper. It would disclose how the changes affect families and society, routines, the environment, and if people were really happy.
Three things amazed me the most:
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The people were rather friendly. I believe this was caused by the layout changes, ample spaces, parks, and a great small-city vibe.
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Every few blocks you’d find monitors with dashboards displaying the current status and capacity of all services. Everything from sewage management to the status of the washing machines. There was also a counter of errors, for example, wrong meals that had been prepared, or mistakes delivering the right clothes. Your idea was to maintain this number as low as possible, so you organised, along with the government, a campaign to let every resident know that it is our duty to help maintain this number low.
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RGB street lights also served as a notification system for issues, not only with the infrastructure, but also with the weather (incoming storms or hurricanes) as well as nation-wide alerts such as terrorist attacks.
News had started spreading of the city’s success, and quite a few people from nearby towns and cities, such as Mt. Carmel, Ashland, and Girardville started moving to the city.
Curiously enough, these are the locations that many residents of the old Centralia flocked to during the decades-long fire.
As I strolled through the city taking notes, I noticed over the last couple of days a foul smell had been building up towards the south-western quarter. It was localised to that area but I couldn’t determine the source. I started to spend a significant portion of my daily routine strolling around there.
First I mapped an outline of the affected region, then I shaded each street based on the intensity. It wasn’t very strong, not enough to bother people, but I was still curious. It wasn’t an easy task to denote the intensity as it seemed to be intermittent. I reported about this to a couple of newspapers, but it was played down and went unpublished.
A week had passed since I started my investigation, I had narrowed the source down to a series of pipes with breathing holes which came from underground. The main purpose of these was to act as escape valves from pressure build-up in the clothes washing department.
However, the smell should be pleasant, not grotesque. It smelled chemical.
Some residents had started reporting an odd smell on their clothes. I knew I had to get to the bottom of the issue, this would make a great article on the dangers of moving too fast with a vast amount of city-wide changes at the same time. More importantly, it might inspire new cities to take more care when planning infrastructure layout underground.
I needed to go down.
Tonight, I concluded. Tonight.
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Given that I was not a resident, nor did I have staff clearance for maintenance or operations, I would have to sneak in.
I stepped out of my rental flat at around 1 AM, and made my way walking towards the area.
I found a small hut with a metallic green door next to a set of tubes I had been walking nearby the previous days. I had a quick look around, it was past 2 AM. I couldn’t see anyone, but this looked like a plausible entrance. I yanked the door handle downwards. It didn’t budge. I put more of my weight on it, it didn’t feel that sturdy. Finally I slammed into it once more with all my weight. It broke, and I made my way in.
I felt ashamed about damaging city property, but I hadn’t come up with a good news story in months, and I was desperate to find something newsworthy.
I made my way down through the service ladders, it was pitch black. I made a couple of gestures which my AR kit picked up, it outlined every surface, eliminating the need for a torch, or god forbid, one of those old smartphone “flashlights”.
As I reached the bottom the smell increased slightly.
The washing and drying machines had stopped as they only operated during daytime.
I walked around the machines, which took some time due to the size and amount of them. There were at least 15, a sight to behold. The source of the smell didn’t seem to be in this room however.
I noticed towards the back of the hall there were a couple of doors. One of them was marked with a stairway symbol. I opened that door and the lights came on.
The stairway led both upwards and downwards, given that the smell was slightly more pungent down here, I assumed the source must be coming from below. I walked down a couple of stories and reached the next department: Recycling #1. This one seemed to be dedicated entirely to paper recycling. Huge vats towered over me.
The story was the same as with the previous department, the smell was slightly worse, but still not nauseating.
I decided to carry on going down until the smell grew worse.
I must have walked the equivalent of 10 stories when I started to feel ill. It had to be close. I should have brought a respirator.
I opened the door to the department on this floor. It was the waste treatment department. I had trouble opening the door as there seemed to be a pressure buildup. I finally managed to pry it open, and walked in covering my nose. It was dreadful.
I instantly noticed that the lids of two containers were bent, exposing different kinds of waste. This specific container seemed to contain chemical residues from other departments. There was a very powerful smell of gas as well. I’d have to notify the authorities.
I walked around the container, and accidentally nudged a lever with my foot. Machines spun into motion, liquids started moving from vat to vat. The swishing and swooshing made the smell even worse. I pulled the lever back as fast as I could.
Oddly, the room felt unusually warm as well.
I jogged back to the stairway. After struggling with the door once again, I managed to get out. I noticed the stairs actually continued downwards.
I looked at my watch. It was 4:30 AM and the departments were due to start their shifts in a couple of hours.
I decided to take a quick peek downstairs anyway.
I walked down a few more flights of stairs; it was starting to get cramped and less-well maintained. The stairs abruptly ended giving way to underground caverns. The fire had consumed so much during those decades, it was astonishing. The cave was huge. Clearly they had used as much space as needed for the departments to run the city that they had no use for this space.
I noticed it was really warm. Could this be the remnants of the fire? How could it remain so warm after so many years?
I walked for a few hundred meters, it branched out into a couple of paths, it looked like no one had been here.
It grew even warmer as I carried on, I was starting to sweat profusely.
I noticed a faint glow and followed it through a narrow gap.
Jesus Christ.
It was still burning.
This was the news I had been looking for.
I took a few photos using my AR headset, but I’d have to come down again with better equipment.
The coal burned bright, stacks upon stacks, the whole wall glowed intensely, there were a few areas where higher flames broke out.
I couldn’t notify the authorities yet, I had to break this news.
I thought I’d come down again the following evening, and then notify the government the following morning.
I walked back to the stairwell, and walked a few flights up to the water department. I had 30 minutes to get out of there. I took the lift all the way up to the clothes washing department, climbed the service ladders, and slid out through the same green door.
I stepped outside the building and walked around the corner.
I turned back, no one seemed to have noticed.
The sun was starting to come up, illuminating the crystal-clear tubes running through the city.
Beautiful, breathtaking, dangerous.
I was about to walk home when I noticed an odd smell… the earth started to tremble.
I walked to the middle of the road, the streets were mostly empty. The earth shook more, the smell increased, the tubes at the corner of the street grew cloudy. I tried to perform a few gestures so my AR kit would phone the emergency services, but just at that moment I heard a large rip, followed by a series of sounds I can only describe as deafening, shattering, clattering, thunderish. Did I do this? What is going on?
Then the floor burst open, probably a hundred meters away from me. Out came the drum of one of the washing machines at tremendous speed, followed by a plume of smoke and fire. Several more popped out in different places.
It probably flew 50 meters into the air before descending, I tried to get up and run, I screamed my lungs out, the ground was still trembling, I couldn’t get up.
One wonders how it all began when and how it will all end.
Note from the editor:
I would rewrite it from the start entirely in first person:
I’m Patrick. I might be only a meter tall, but that is, after all, the new standard from Genetic Control. You old people would have used up all the space for living by now, if people had been allowed to continue growing to any size they could. You HAVE seen the statistics, right?
What are you doing, are you recording this? Stop doing that, you’ll get us both sanctioned! And don’t use my name either. If you want me to tell you what happened on my shift the other day, I need to stay anonymous. Right?
Note from the author:
Sounds good, maybe in version 2… considering it took me 3 years to go from draft to publishing this. Talk about writers block.