"I want to talk to him about getting rid of our freeways, because they're no good. We have to have monorail systems," Bradbury said, adding that he'd be happy to have a station named after him.
While the City of Angels lives up to its name with Citizen Seraphim such as Bradbury boldly asserting an Empyreal Vision of Monorailtopia, we in Seattle have devilish traitors seeking to undo our Great Works: Peter Sherwin and Patrick Kylen, once supporters of monorail sanity, have gone off their rail and are now campaigning for a Streetcar named Disaster. They actually want to shut down the Seattle Monorail -- that Beacon of Hope glinting chromatic above a dourly gray sea of asphalt and exhaust fumes -- and replace it with mere cable-cars like the ones with which our forefathers suffered!
To go from a Monorailfaring People to debased cablecar jockeys is an unacceptable de-evolution. Should we not just leave our cities en masse and crawl back into the sea from whence we came? I, for one, adamantly reject a return to our benthic roots that this "streetcar" talk represents! Why should we meander the streets like the common whelk, insentient to our fate as we creep along on our own effluence, when we can soar transcendent through the skyline like the Angelic Beings we are destined to be?
Fortunately, their misbegotten plan to scrap our only Salvation to save a few bucks is already a non-starter. Even as you read this, the diligent leaders of the Seattle Monorail Services are burning the midnight oil to select recognized Monorail Experts from the finest of the Technical Class, who will look into the entirely abnormal and not-a-little-bit-suspicious problems that have lately been befalling the Seattle Monorail to find a solution -- or culprit -- before the commencement of the Bumpershoot Festival.
What caused the stalls? Why wasn't power being drawn by the Blue Train? Could some surreptitiously placed metallic debris have shorted the circuit before power reached the train? Electro-sabotage by metal shoe, as it were? I think arch-antimonorailist and pneumatic blowhard, Mr. Zapato, with his stockpiles of crumpled up tinfoil, has some explaining to do -- and since I currently have no means to go anywhere, I'll be sitting at my computer awaiting his response.