Today I watched the Red Castle hotel being demolished. I was transfixed as a giant steel tyrannosaurus with massive steel jaws and breath that smelled of dust and diesel smoke tore the place apart, desperate to feed a hunger that only concrete and copper pipes could satisfy.
It chewed through bricks like a dog chomping biscuits. It bashed through walls until what was left was too weak to stand on its own. And in less time than it took to paint a single room its feeding frenzy reduced six stories to a pile of bricks and twisted metal.
The Red Castle is gone. Forever. Never again will it’s walls embrace honeymooners or give shelter to tired travellers. Never again will it be a place to create memories and times to forget.
The steel beast with a human mind made sure of that.
But as the destruction took place I felt a rush of excitement. I thrilled at the orgy of power and destruction that tore down that which taken so long to build up.
Yet more than that, I was excited about a future only made possible by the existence of such a powerful, destructive force . I was excited about the thought of new homes, new hopes, new lives and new loves.
That’s the grand possibility of a hungry machine.