Fear not the future

I don’t know a single motorist who likes car pillars, the vertical elements that separate the individual windows. They need to be as thin as possible, particularly around the windscreen where they limit visibility, but on the other hand these solid supports save lives when a car rolls over. One large automotive concern has patented quite a clever fix – seemingly transparent pillars. Curiously, this wasn’t achieved by using some cosmic new material or sophisticated electronics. In fact, they aren’t really transparent at all: there’s just a clever arrangement of ordinary mirrors, placed in such a way to show the driver what is on the other side. I’d swear that it was a Slav who came up with this idea and made the prototype out of some old looking-glass from his grandmother’s wardrobe, together with a torn umbrella and a freshly-chewed piece of gum.

A different companycame up with a clever idea for preventing injuries suffered by pedestrians who get hit by cars. Not the injuries resulting from the actual impact with the vehicle, but those due to the victim falling from the bonnet back onto the road. All that’s needed is to cover the front of the car with a special adhesive. As a result the unfortunate pedestrian will remain glued, spread-eagled on the front of the car. Every clear thinking person is now going to ask: “Ok, but how’s the bonnet to stay sticky after it’s been driven thousands of kilometres without accident? And how are you, smart-alec eggheads, going to remove all those insects stuck to the bonnet?!” Aha! Got you there, you unbelievers! The inventor’s already got that one covered. The sticky hood is covered with a special film that disappears as soon as a sensor on the bumper registers an impact. Can it be done? Oh yes, it can!

And now for something closer to home. In the centre of Warsaw, right next to the main bus station, there is a car park which has been effectively resisting the fickle fashions and the doubtful trends of the insane 21st century. The car park management system consists of one retired man, a chewed pencil and a tattered notebook. How does it work? The pencil is skilfully wiggled in such a way as to record the arrival and departure time for each vehicle and an old-fashioned brain (with no electronic enhancements of any kind) is used to compute the service fee. The whole procedure culminates in payment being made (“Cash only, exact change, please”). The system is simple, efficient, reliable and rather human. There is an old familiar queue to the cashier, where new friendships can be struck up and acquaintances made (it’s said someone even made a marriage proposal here once). You might find yourself subjected to this enforced socialising even at 3am. because congestion arises spontaneously both night and day. Let me tell you where it is: this station proudly calls itself Warszawa Zachodnia.