You are a sad man in the Happy Quarter. The Quarter is an architectural mood piece. The hour is perpetually golden; the air, vaguely flowery. There are many trees.
You are here to construct a situation. That’s how they put it.
You look around. Where is everyone? It is silent but for some wind chimes in the breeze. You must admit, the Quarter is very pleasant. But you didn’t get sad because of a pleasantness deficiency. And there are no people.
You start walking across the square. The streets and plazas in the Happy Quarter are not laid with cobble or brick or asphalt or concrete, they are made of grass. You take off your shoes and walk barefoot. You take off your jacket, too, and put it over your arm.
As you leave the square for one of the streets that radiate out of it, passing beneath a tall tree, there is a flicker in the corner of your eye. You look right, but there is no one. This street smells of fruit. Somewhere, a dog is barking. Tired of looking for a situation to manifest itself, you walk up to the nearest door and knock on it. Hard.
The ghost of Guy Debord answers the door. You are startled. You have never met a 20th century ghost before. His dress is so different from the ghosts you are used to.
Do come in, says the ghost of Guy Debord. I just made tea.
You walk up a staircase illuminated entirely by slanted sunlit shafts set into the walls and the ceiling. Guy Debord glides. At the top of the stairs, he takes out a key and unlocks a bright green door. Inside is a jungle of potted plants. The floor is covered in dirt. It smells like childhood.
Welcome, says Guy Debord. This is where you will live, Sad Man. This is where you will begin constructing your happy situation.
Where are all the others?
Invite the neighbors for tea, says Guy Debord. They are very nice. And then he glides out the door.
You sit down and feel sad and curious and confused and possibly happy at the same time.Feb 28, 2013