It's All Geek to Me!

Darkness. A rumble from the depths of the earth. The primeval Om. Let there be light. A glimmer of gold on the tracks as it turns around the corner. Stand behind the yellow line. Wagon after wagon in the Ark passes, tousling my carefully coiffed hair in its wake. Small price to pay. I am witnessing the urban Genesis, after all. And the Genesis is good.

A door glides to a stop before me. The gateway to a new day opens. Two by two, every species of human enters the door. Step all the way in. Stand clear of the closing doors please. Finding legroom near a pole makes me resort to Cain-like tricks. A brief yank to my wrist and I am off. Next to me is a homo iPodicus, whose mp3-entranced face I focus on as tunnelling darkness resumes outside. As the Deluge of darkness rages outside, I get a comment about the book I am holding. Have you read other books by him. Did you like Angels and Demons. No, I liked this one better. You better avoid Digital Fortress.

Another stop has pulled up outside the door, tempting somebody to abandon the now-overcrowded Ark. How did poor Noah manage, I think, with his Ark, infested with snakes, spiders and scorpions. Did he store the lobsters and flounder in a tank at the door, like a Chinese seafood restaurant. A seat is vacated. The shortest journey from point A to point B is the straight line between them. In this Ark, it instantly becomes clear to me that even shorter journeys are possible when one of the endpoints is a seat during rush hour. Stand clear of the diving people please.

All seems well as we re-enter the tunnel. Suddenly, the Ark stops. Perhaps we chanced upon an Ararat. Noah sends out a pigeon and apologizes for the delay. Homo iPodicus smiles at me as I avoid eye contact. The wait for the pigeon is long. The Ark story was probably before the Big Bang, when there was no Time yet. The pigeon doesn't return. The Ark must move on. With a heave and a sigh, it relinquishes its temporary resting position.

Transfer is available to the ACE12379NQRWShuttleToGrandCentral. Transfer is not available to an empty seat. I get tempted by another Ark pulling up across the platform. Time begins at Times Square. Putting my deliverance in peril, I leap across the Firmament into another Ark ecosystem with a different mix of species. A yank, a tunnel and a yank later, I look at my watch. It has been forty foreminutes and forty hindminutes since I got into an Ark. I have arrived at my Ararat.

And so it comes to pass that the Ark takes me from firmament to firmament like so for five days. On the sixth and seventh day, I rest. And the rest is good.