March 05, 2006
Money for nothing

How silently the shadows seep between the grooved steps of the escalator, sliding deeper then disappearing into the gap between the moving panels, as some unseen machine pushed us resolutely upwards towards heaven from the depths of the underground. When I turned back and looked down, I couldn't help thinking that perhaps my face wore the same expression once worn by Orpheus.

The old, tired carriages clunk at every roll of their wheels, lurching to stop and staggering to start. The landscape is always varying shades grey, punctuated by an occasional blink of light symbolic to somebody else, a short stretch of tungsten over a name plate, a large rectangular hole in the wall that could have been a room but is perhaps only a trick of the eye. It rolls on, a continual stretch of darkness, that I wonder why they put in windows at all. I realise after a time that the reason why we can see anything outside is because of the light from within. Looking out a window, you see your own reflection much better than the scenery that lurks in the shadows on the other side. If you wore music in your ears, you would not even have to be part of this world.

Some days I see green riches of Normandy, the slumbering sprawl of Tokyo, the rooftops of Richmond-to-South-Yarra. I watch all of these roll by, often individually, sometimes in tandem, layered one upon another.

One day, as I emerged out of the métro, there were a group of Christians giving away those tiny editions of The New Testament. They were out in force: four, five people at the bottom of the escalators, another three or four would wait for you at the top. It is a kind of war where they graciously ambush you and smile as you narrowly escape. I walked past the first person, smiled and shook my head, and did the same for the second. To the third, I said, "No, thank you", to which he quipped, "But it's free," his face showing all traces of puzzlement.

And I suddenly wondered — has that become the reason? That if it's free, so you ought to take it?

The strange thing about that morning was that there were two beggars settled in the square of space just behind the escalators, begging for change. One was apparently a Vietnam veteran (but rumour has it that he only acts the part), the other man was born with only one arm and showed this off by not wearing a shirt even if it was -30°C outside. The Christians had taken over their normal standing places in order to give away free Bibles.

Something seemed so wrong with all this, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Posted by sniffles at 10:14 PM | Comments (1)