When I was a small child I spent a lot of my time, as most small children do, trying to make sense of the world and myself, and day by day my understanding of the laws of nature and society expanded rapidly. In short I was like the digestive biscuit of curiosity hurtling unrelentingly toward the teacup of cognition, wherein I could dunk myself in the Earl Grey of knowledge. Still, there was only so far I could get on sensory perception alone: there were unanswered questions, the explanations of which were not self-evident without some extra understanding, so in such cases I sought the help of the people who called themselves my parents for some supplementary advice.
One such case sticks out in my mind: I just couldn’t fathom how street lights knew when it was dark and therefore when to turn on. Turning one morning to my esteemed father I said,
‘Father, but how is it that those street lights know when to turn themselves on?’
‘Son, what a formidable question. You are indeed a genius and I love you a lot more than I do your sister.’ He said something like that: I can’t remember exactly.
‘The reason the lights come on when they do is that there’s something on top of the light which informs the bulb when it’s time to turn on. If you look at a street lamp you’ll see there is a lump on top of it.’
I looked at a street lamp. There was indeed a lump on top of it.
This answer to my astute question was very informative, and it allowed me to add my own spin on things. I drew what seemed to me to be the obvious conclusion from the information I had been given, that that lump on top of the street light was actually Noah from the Bible.
I’m not sure how I came to that conjecture, but if you think about it, then yeah, it makes sense. I don’t know what it is but it just feels right. At the time I was a good little Christian boy, so naturally I saw evidence for the scriptures everywhere, even in something as mechanical and ungodly as a man-made structure used for emitting artificial light. Now, if you’ll remember in the book of Genesis, Noah was the man who was called by God to build an ark of specified dimensions in order to save some animals from some water and then he died at the ripe old age of 950. But as we all know, this isn’t true: Noah actually lived a lot longer and is in fact still alive today atop every street lamp in the world, illuminating every night-stricken road and elucidating every darkened cul de sac, and in the same way that back in the day he decided which animals survived and which died, so today he decides when to turn the lights on and off.
In fact, today he’s still carrying out God’s work from the flood. Back then God wanted to destroy life and start anew. In the same way, Noah turning the lights off symbolises the end of a previous world, and when he turns the lights on again, there we have a fresh start. He’s just living a massive metaphor of an existence. So next time you look up at a street lamp, remember Noah, think of all those hours he has sacrificed to ensure that roads are well-lit, think of all the lives he has saved. But also reflect on how God is watching you and remember how easily He can destroy life if He chooses.
Epilogue:
In my neighbourhood the bulbs in the street lamps have been changed so that they no longer emit a soothing amber glow, but are now not dissimilar to a blue, cold, Stalinist searchlight. As such, there has been an increase in fear in the Muncastergate area, with the eerie new fluorescence acting as a stark reminder to residents that they are being watched, not only by God, but also by the KGB.
Notorious S.A.M. 