Generations

In the 1998 movie "Dark City," the protagonist learns that--SPOILER ALERT--the strange bald-headed men using telekinetic powers to hunt him are aliens and that the titular city is dark because it is a spaceship rotated to face away from sunlight. It shares much of its gothic architecture with our city, and not by coincidence.

As a fan of science fiction, I used to dream about life among the stars. Our current understanding of physics does not allow for us to travel faster than the speed of light. The gaps between are inconceivably huge. Therefore, we need to plan for very long trips, and no getting off at Pluto/Charon to use the restroom. That's a minor planet now and we don't trust the bathrooms.

New York City shows me just how hard such a journey would be. You would need a large spaceship just to keep people from going insane. City size at least. Robotech: Macross Saga really nailed it here. Steady acceleration or spin could fake your gravity, but the stresses over the centuries would be enormous, structurally and emotionally. 

This city pushes people. The successful artists are truly exemplary because they had to climb a mountain of crap to get there. Consider the reaction mass you would need to accelerate even a splinter to solar escape velocity and imagine all that energy devoted to the making of the Rockettes or the trimming of the tree at Rockefeller Center. 

So much engineering goes into the smooth operation of the city, it might as well be a spaceship. Great pumps draw water from freshwater sources, clean it and deliver it to each and every home, business and public toilet with more than 66% uptime. (My figures might be a little off.) Electricity ensures out refrigerators never run out of cold and that our Facebooks stay freshly stocked with inspirational cat pictures. Fresh fruit for smoothies and whatever hot dogs are made of for hot dogs truck into the city to be processed into the mouths of eight million people. Trains scythe through its heart. Taxis shuttle across and airplanes land at airports far enough from the city's heart to be convenient for no one. The closing of a bridge lane leads to traffic chaos and national controversy.

Then there are the aliens. 

So many different people, languages, cultures, races, party affiliations, careers, religions and orientations crowd the city. In the Midwest, an Italian atheist speaking Mandarin in a leather shop might feel a little out of place. Here, he's just trying to help the Jewish African American Republican find a prop for her philosophy class. To be clear, these are not the weird ones. "Weird" here is antisocial. Glarers. Those who refuse to join the conversation. Even hipsters are telling you something with their mustaches. 

Amidst the rumble of unreality engines that makes this place possible, it is the silence that is most disturbing.