Shintabisoko Bridge
Andrew Wentzell
As I approach the midpoint of the Shintabisoko Bridge, I wonder if anyone will notice after I’m gone. Will they care? I imagine that I’ll be simply one more misunderstood aberration in a world that understands only one thing: profit. A world that understands getting the job done at the lowest cost and in the fastest time.
I pause, feeling the irony deep in my bones, that this bridge is my final stroll. I always complained as we drove over the Shintabisoko Bridge. I contemptuously named it the great grey monument to humanity’s march against nature, the personification of the unending push to bend the world to man’s whim. I’d say that like much of modern architecture, the bridge focused on function, not form. Such monuments flourished at the expense of
