I've pretty much accepted that whatever my intentions may be, Bouphonia is widely perceived as an environmentalist blog. That's fine, I guess, as long as I'm allowed to be seduced now and then by such examples of the dystopian sublime as Dubai's Palm Islands. You can - nay, must - click here to see a breathtaking aerial time-lapse view of the first island's construction. Conspicuous consumption never looked so good!
Speaking of which, here's a brain-teaser for you: If your country gets virtually no rainfall, and the temperature hovers at or above 100F from March to October, and your population is growing dramatically, and almost all of your water is produced through energy-intensive desalination, what should be one of your top engineering priorities?
Building a year-round ski resort, of course.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Senselessness and Mud
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7 comments:
Ack - presented with three "get the plugins" on one page, I declined but not before I saw we were talking about Dubai. Here's a fun pic of Dubai - right in keeping with the sentiment.
qztgqmvi - certainly the longest captcha I've had yet from Blogger.
Doggone if that pic isn't of the same damn thing. Inviting, aren't they?
That's nothing, they're building a project with 300 artificial islands called The World
Karin,
Yeah, I know. It's not quite as interesting visually, though. At least, not yet.
It's sure to make an interesting ruin someday, all the same.
I make it a policy to stay away from any resort that looks like it might wrap itself around my face and lay eggs in my stomach.
the october new yorker article on dubai made me a little ill, particularly the bit about the ski resort. i was also grossed out by the fact that nearly all of the salt left over by desalinization practices is dumped back into the ocean, which can't work wonders for its temperatures.
i wish i could step back and appreciate its beauty with you, phila, but i can't figure out how to stop seeing the forest and focus on the tree. it just makes me sad.
JP,
I don't see any beauty in it whatsoever, actually. My response to what I'm calling the "dystopian sublime" is a sort of nauseated awe.
I'd say I was being ironic, if I didn't know that Ann Altmouse's watchful eye is upon me.
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