A story is being told. A stage. Actors and spectator ready. Who are they? Who wrote the story? I realize it is not a theater. I am sitting in a Bistro at the corner between Reality Road and Imagination Avenue. The city a stage. The story the everyday. Who is the actor? The city or the people? Who wrote the story? The architect? A man sits next to me, his name is Guy. We are unconsciously watching time passing by right in front of our eyes. People, stores, billboards, messages and images. Suddently, after sipping a hot Espresso he softly says: "The spectacle is not a collection of images, but a social relation among people, mediated by images".
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