Georgia has positioned a vast swath of highway as its "High Tech Corridor", specifically U.S. 441 from Athens to McRae, and U.S. 341 from McRae to Brunswick. You see these signs every few miles:
Yeah, verily. Silicon Valley from the mountains to the sea! The Future is Here!
Well, if that stretch of Godforsaken wasteland is a high tech corridor I'm Oprah's bastard baby.
But, maybe not. In fact, on a recent trip through these hinterlands I actually saw massive evidence that this Future World does indeed exist. Look below the fold to see what I mean:
Look! It's the Bridge to the Future! The path to the Information Superhighway!
And here's how we'll get there!
Rubber is obsolete in Future World, man. Except for middle school condoms. Everything's maglev here, baby.
Alternative energy sources abound in our brave new world, too:
Here's where we'll stay in Utopia:
This was the original plan for the Contemporary Resort at Disney World, but it was rejected because Walt said it was "too fucking radical".
Only the finest cuisine here:
Frog jam was invented by NASA. It was a byproduct of Tang.
Here's where we'll party in High Tech Land:
Nice. I can't believe I've overlooked all of this exciting development. I'm looking forward to the Microsoft/Bass Pro Shops Rattlesnake Roundup in Future World next week.
I saw this bus as I was passing through Alma, Georgia. Alma is approximately halfway between Uvalda and the Middle of Fucking Nowhere. It's also the hometown of Harry Crews. And, apparently, D.J. Simon and the Mighty Imperials.
I thought this beater was a relic until I saw the gentleman in the foreground climb from underneath it as I was taking the picture. He waved, and I should have stayed and talked to him, but I was in hot pursuit of the state line at that point.
It seems the Mighty Imperials were an R&B act in the 1970's. I think the genre is specifically known as "raw-ass funk", or "heavy gut-bucket soul". Think the Meters with James Brown on vocals instead of that pussy Aaron Neville with the piece of charcoal growing out of his head. I guess D.J. had retired. But the plot thickens like a uterine wall during the happy time of the month. Apparently a group of young Turks released an album under the Mighty Imperials name in 1999 called Thunder Chicken, with a new lead singer. No D.J.
I reckon D.J. decided to take his name back, because he just cut a record as D.J. Simon and the New Mighty Imperials. Gonna be a beat down in funk town, I say. And the old tour bus is getting primed for action.
I didn't know this at the time, or I would have chatted with the guy. Hell, he could have been the mighty D.J. hisself. I also wish I'd been around to capture some of the air funk hanging in the atmosphere in some of the juke joints the Mighty Imperials played back in the day in the sweltering south. Put it in vials. Now I could sell it on eBay to white chicks and make a killing. Hell, Amy Winehouse would probably buy out the lot.
Opportunities lost, I tell ya.