![]() ![]() Many of us spend all day switching between tabs and severely spaced out at our jobs, so maybe it’s not surprising we’d also dissociate on our way to and from them. ![]() The trouble is many people seem to experience this disassociation as their default mode of commuting. Our attention has limits and our brains need some time to recover, so assuming you can still operate your car safely, maybe a little bit of automaticity is okay and normal. If you’ve ever found yourself safely at your destination without memory of how you’ve gotten there, you’ve probably experienced this specific sort of disassociation too. ![]() These drivers are essentially doing without thinking. You could call this type of driving muscle memory I guess, but I think that term suggests a level of physicality not really possible while driving, so I think the term “automaticity” is a better fit. Still, I often wish I could catch the attention of these drivers so that I could watch their expressions change as we share a brief and absurd moment together. These are all important for making your own commute. They’re predictable, usually not texting, and easy on the accelerator. Although I’m more careful on a skitch when I look over and see a glazed over look, in my experiences doing this, these types of drivers are not worse drivers than any other. I zone out pretty easily so I admit this is usually how I drive too. These drivers seem hypnotized by the road in front of them, and I enjoy imagining what they might be imagining. Other drivers don’t notice you are hanging onto their car, which is also entertaining in a different sort of way. Some people seem confused or startled at first, but after I give a smile or a wave, most seem to get a real kick out of it. ![]() One thing I particularly enjoy about this is watching peoples’ reactions when they realize they’ve been towing me. I’ve heard other people compare it to surfing. It’s hard to describe what a skitch feels like (so maybe just watch some videos instead), but I like to think of it as a DIY rollercoaster I take to my job or other places. Like most things fun, there’s risk involved, so personally I only skitch certain roads where there’s a generous bike lane to bail into. You’ve probably seen this done in movies, usually with a skateboard, but a bike can handle higher speeds much more safely than a skateboard or roller-skates can. To skitch on a bicycle, you’ll want to ride up next to a car (ideally as the car is accelerating after coming to a stop), and grab onto whatever you can, allowing the car to pull you along and on your way. Psychogeography therefore encourages a sort of walking “drift” for the sake of the experience itself, but I find that it’s principles can still be applied to other sorts of travel without betraying what is most useful about it. To experience an alternative, those who practice psychogeography propose unconventional ways of engaging with infrastructure that reconnects us with more fun, inventive, and spontaneous ways of navigating the world. As our social relationships have been increasingly reduced to commercial, object oriented, and vicarious experience, it follows that our imagination for what is politically possible has similarly been reduced. Psychogeography as a concept is generally concerned with a collective emotional disorientation to our built environments and other people. ![]()
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