Seldon,
RedUp
The world is filled with arcane symbols and mysterious ideographs that, to the uninitiated, are completely indecipherable. You see them on sidewalks and street corners, you see them affixed on the walls beside doors of strange utilitarian buildings, you see them near junction boxes that are always locked and marked with explicit warnings that they should never ever under any circumstance be opened.
I love the mystery of these markings. I love that these hastily written symbols are used to quickly convey abstract concepts that stand for real objects and situations. I love that these weird blots of paint have very specific meaning. I love them — and yet I’m always torn when I see them. I’m torn between the desire to know what they mean and the reluctance to have the mystery destroyed, because mystery rarely survives knowledge.
Which is better? To know that this wicked red splash simply alerts workers to the fact that a termination point for an electric power line or cable can be found a certain distance in the direction indicated? Or to remain open to a thousand different possible interpretations, all of which are exciting and possibly dangerous, and none of which is remotely utilitarian?
Knowledge or mystery? Which do you really want?
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