Damn Vox Populi - Transportation Edition

Not long ago I wrote a post about some profoundly irritating things I'd read at blogs or in the paper. Unsurprisingly, I came across another one over the weekend when I read an editorial in the Wisconsin State Journal by Bill Richardson called "Time to nail a silver spike in 'Count Trackula'". In his screed, Richardson, rails (ahem) against light rail here in Madison.

While he makes some great points and I find myself to be at least nominally on his side, as it were, I found this statement about getting light rail up and running here to be pathetic:

Over five years and over a billion dollars will be spent before the first passenger steps aboard a 19th century marvel -- a train.

Of course, over the next five years billions and billions more dollars will be spent ensuring that people are able to use another 19th century marvel: the horseless carriage, a.k.a. - automobile. (Which itself uses - gasp! - the wheel which dates back to at least 3,500 BCE.) Does Richardson not know that the car was invented in 1885 – you know, way back in the 19th century? Or are there new shiny quantum transportation devices of which I am unaware that are everywhere at once and only find themselves at a destination when someone reads the bumper sticker thusly collapsing the waveform? If so, where do I get one of these Schrödinger sedans?

If Mr. Richardson is so ignorant, I invite him to head over to The Library of Congress website and check out "Who invented the automobile?"

But Richardson knows this already. He just likes to omit facts that don't reinforce his idea that light rail is a harbinger of the Apocalypse. Curiously enough, this exact same behavior is exhibited in the group of which Richardson claims membership: The Great Train Robbery. Dedicated to defeating light rail in Madison, the group's highly one-sided website is a treat for propaganda lovers.

When you go to the page, you're greeted with an old black & white photo of a train robbery that looks like a still from Edwin S. Porter's 1903 film The Great Train Robbery. (It may in fact be so.) One thing you won't see is a photo like this one.



You know, that 19th century novelty, the horseless carriage car.

To further reinforce the notion of trains as being quaint outdated technology, the sidebar uses old-timey fonts.

At the site is a page called "Transportation Disasters" which features a smattering of photographs of train accidents. The name of the page is a bit of misnomer because it doesn't include pictures like these:




(Photos from car-accidents.com.)

It doesn't really help your scare tactics to show that horseless carriages cars – those 19th century marvels – can get into disasters just fine on their own, does it?

The "Transportation Disasters" page also shows some absolutely hideous, life-threatening traffic backups. You know, cars waiting at a crossing for a train to pass. What they don't mention is that traffic jams happen all the time without a train being within miles of the street. Again, that 19th century marvel – the horseless carriage automobile – can fuck up just fine by itself, thank you.

One caption above a photo showing a backup as a freight train crosses East Washington reads:

Imagine 6-13 per hour-- shorter commuter trains blocking all lanes of E. Wash and nearly all other main highways into Madison - some several times - during rush hour(s).

I'm surprised the site doesn't have a page dedicated to the testimonials of drivers who had to suffer the indignity of waiting a train crossing.

"I was in my Hummer driving my dog to her yoga session when I got to the crossing…"

As Col. Kurtz once said, "The horror…the horror…"

Well, let me testify to the horror. A couple days ago I was in Chicago at the intersection of Central and Devon Avenues when one of those dastardly Metra commuter trains pulled into the stop there and blocked traffic. I sat there for two minutes – two minutes! – before I could continue. The world almost ended and two days later I am still suffering emotional distress. I think I'm scarred for life. I'd better listen to some Los Lobos.