Now you're on a city bus. Ahead there's a building been torn apart. It's at the Y of a fork in the road, like Times Square, but the buildings are old and stone, three or four stories, like the old town of Montreal. There's scaffolding and cranes and rubble on all sides. The cranes are wild, more horizontal than vertical, swinging drunkenly into traffic. At the end of the arm where the operator rides is painted the CBS eye, as if these machines were some sort of mad microscope.