“It’s a funny sign, isn’t it?” said the GUTV kid with the shoulder-mounted video camera. He barreled down the hill from Leavey towards Lot T, calling attention to the large, electronic flip-sign at the entrance. It is 2:15 a.m. Tuesday and what normally should say “Road Closed” now reads “No War.” The kid with the camera continues to film, from different angles and with varying levels of sardonic smirks. One thing here is certain, anti-war activists do appear to fill their leisure time with anti-war activism. Go figure.
It must be asked, who was the intended audience? Neither visible from President Bush’s perch in the sky aboard Marine One, nor from the Rumsfeld and Powell family castles high above the George Washington Parkway, the digital graffiti must have sought a more profane target. Most likely some early risers on their way to Yates and those wooly eccentric professors that come in at seven in the morning were the only beneficiaries. Sadly, no one with too much clout. This, of course, assumes that the action was pre-meditated (and our sources say it was), and not the act of a random and jaded conservative with a highly developed sense of irony. Regardless of the source and ignoring the consequences, this simple act of electronic mayhem has made it clear there are alternatives to run-of-the-mill peace activism.
This electronic billboard is of the type found along the side of highways or by Darnall Hall. Constructed by Addco Manufacturing Company, of St. Paul, Minn., the LED-DOT fluorescent flip disk sign was just calling to be vandalized. The VMS FLip Disc DH 1000, flaunting its gaudy smiley-face yellow lettering with aplomb, laughed in one too many faces and, for this, it had to be punished mercilessly. Such reprisals need not be limited to political statements or like nonsense. Even creative and artistic individuals like yourself can have such crazy fun. Pay attention.
The detailed process that follows is, of course, pure speculation. The next time you happen to be walking casually near your friendly neighborhood DH 1000 unit, be careful that you don’t slip on the asphalt and stumble into the unit, accidentally knocking ajar the access hatch. In the unlikely event that such a circumstance does occur, be careful not to, in reaching out for a handhold while pulling yourself up, mistakenly touch the keyboard and type in the typical default password (DOT1—road crews usually don’t change it, I’m told). The prompt for changing the sign text will then appear. At this point, the serendipitous confluence of coincidental events would be so great that changing the message to something like, “Kenneth, what is the frequency?” would be the only logical thing to do.
Naturally, concerns regarding the legal status of such actions will arise. Take note, reports have it that the original sign artists encountered a DPS car that drove slowly by, observed the perpetrators briefly, and continued on its merry way. With this in mind, it remains to be seen if anyone really gives a damn about what subversive cultural terrorists do with these signs. Although the “No War” message reverted to “No Road” at 10:14 a.m. Tuesday morning, it apparently remains unlocked, with access to free speech for all.
