When objects are drastically changed, or removed from their normal context, the result can often be mysteriously beautiful. In some cases, the object becomes a contradiction--it ceases to fully adhere to its own definition. This cruise ship, is a good example. Psychologically, cruise ships cannot fail. When you board a cruise ship, there is mental transaction, a sort of subconscious disavowal of the ocean and its capabilities. This feeling is driven by the physical size of the ship. Like a small neighborhood raised far above the water, the cruise ship obscures the ocean from the eyes and the mind. The physical structure of the ship prevents the ocean from so much as grazing the catatonic relaxation of the passengers. This occurs even without aid of the staff, who further impress upon you the absoluteness of the ship, and any lingering doubts are tempered by an elaborate orchestra of foods, services and entertainment. Every ironed collar, bleached smile and glistening haircut is a step into the abstract.
Neighborhoods don't sink. Do they?
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