In a World Where a Recession Runs Rampant, Love Does Not Compute, or Something
Tristan Williams’s house in Pontiac, Mich., has no electricity (he must study by sunlight) and gets its only warmth from a kerosene heater downstairs.
Thankfully, Tristan can still afford dvds, graphic novels, and Wendy's.
I'm not even being snide about it. They might be gifts, but the presence of media distractions in the room of a guy who should be focusing on more important things is a little disheartening.
Unless, of course, the Times is practicing product placement. Perhaps it's a new brand of photojournalism-literally, it deals with branding. Gail Collins wrote a particularly hysterical column this weekend about the appearance of products in soap operas.
Earlier this month, the ABC soap opera “One Life to Live” featured a scene in which Todd, the publisher of the local newspaper, and Tea, his lawyer, had a conversation about Todd’s legal problems, which ranged from being a murder suspect to being on trial for kidnapping.
Tea: I warmed up some soup for you. I don’t want you to go to the police station on an empty stomach.
(Already we are on new ground since characters in soap operas do not, as a rule, ever eat anything.)
Todd: What kind of soup is this?
Tea: It’s Campbell’s. It’s healthy, good for your heart.
Todd: (spooning away) Yeah, it’s good.
Inspired, I'm re-imagining the story attached to the above photo of Tristan.
PONTIAC, Mich. - For the past few days, Tristan Williams has spent part of every afternoon at the Blue Note Cafe here, not only for the chicken wings but also for the warmth, electricity and hot water in the men’s room. He has none of those where he lives in a row house not far from this city’s modest business district, about 30 miles northwest of Detroit. It is a life as bleak and dark as Watchmen, Zack Snyder's film version of the graphic novel of the same name. In a world where superheroes exist, evil lives on. But can the Watchmen save humanity from... itself?
For several hours on Monday, Mr. Williams, a college student and janitor, was the cafe’s lone customer, charging his cellphone and using the free computer. He searched the Internet for a battery-operated home heater and a better job. He could not find either. "No matter how much I struggle, I just can't seem to escape. It reminds me of what the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 go through each week on LOST. Is the island a lush paradise, or is it the deepest hell? Escape seemed to be their only option. But can they escape from... themselves?"
Mr. Williams began to weep, his sorrow assuaged only by the rich, beefy goodness of a Wendy's cheeseburger. Between mouthfuls he remembered to save his ketchup packets so he might have "tomato" soup that night. But could he save the ketchup packets from... themselves?