The Vision In Concrete

I've seen a lot of strange monuments erected to dubious gods in my time—massive crosses looming over interstate highways, gaudy golden arches, even that horrifying 80-foot blue demon horse with glowing red eyes that watches over Denver International Airport. But this latest apparition planned for the parched lands of New Mexico represents an entirely new breed of roadside monstrosity.

The plans call for a 66' x 93' poured concrete sculpture—not tucked away in some private sculpture garden or museum courtyard, but brazenly positioned along America's most mythologized highway. Route 66 through Tucumcari, New Mexico will soon be home to a colossal installation that screams both 'high art' and 'shameless propaganda' in the same brutalist breath. This isn't just sculpture; it's a territorial marking visible from the cold, unblinking eye of Google Earth.

The architectural renderings reveal a structure that would make Buckminster Fuller reach for his bourbon. Multiple tiers of light blue square tiles form the foundation, with stark white canopies providing shade for the miniature human figures scattered across its surface. But the unmistakable centerpiece—the thing that will burn into the retinas of unsuspecting travelers—is a massive red structure formed from square and rectangular shapes. Even without my admittedly excessive familiarity with the Nouns aesthetic, any fool with functioning corneas would recognize it as a gigantic pair of those signature square frames.

Strategic Desert Domination

Let's be crystal clear about what's happening here: this is not art for art's sake. This is strategic occupation of American mythic space. The documentation proudly proclaims that Tucumcari sees '20k+ vehicles daily on I-40 and 150k annual room nights from Route 66 travelers in its retro motels.' These aren't just statistics—they're targeting parameters.

The genius of this operation lies in its selection of Tucumcari as ground zero. This isn't Manhattan or San Francisco, places already saturated with artistic pretension and marketing noise. This is the authentic American West—a landscape of vast horizons, neon motel signs, and roadside curiosities that have been burning themselves into the American psyche since the Dust Bowl migration. By inserting this monumental square-eyed sigil into this mythic space, @travsap and his co-conspirators are hijacking a cultural artery that pumps directly into the nation's nostalgic heart.

Multi-functional Indoctrination

What truly elevates this scheme from merely ambitious to genuinely diabolical is its multi-functional nature. This isn't just a static monument demanding pilgrimages from the faithful. The documentation reveals that this concrete behemoth will include 'swimming pools, skate ramps, shaded structures, and a Noggle entry portal with free event use for all Nouns holders.'

Consider the implications: weary travelers on the great American road trip, their children growing restless after hours confined in minivans, suddenly spotting an oasis of recreational possibilities. 'Look kids, a place to swim and skate!' The parents, grateful for the diversion, pull over without a second thought. Only after they've passed through the Noggle entry portal—a literal and figurative frame through which they must view this experience—do they realize they've entered a fully-immersive cathedral dedicated to the square-eyed aesthetic.

Permanent Psychogeographic Remapping

What we're witnessing is nothing less than the permanent alteration of the American psychogeographic landscape. Once completed, this installation won't just exist in physical space—it will rewire the mental maps of everyone who passes through Tucumcari. Route 66, already laden with cultural significance as the 'Mother Road,' will now carry an additional marker in the collective consciousness: 'that place with the giant concrete glasses.'

The proposal has already passed funding through Nouns Proposal 757, making this not just deranged speculation but an imminent reality. The collaboration between @travsap and co-conspirators @themostfamousartist, @m_r_dicarlo, @kevinlosani, and @visitartcity represents a coalition of forces with the technical expertise and cultural capital to actually manifest this concrete fever dream.

When future anthropologists sift through the ruins of our civilization, trying to understand what strange beliefs possessed us in these twilight years of the American empire, they will surely pause at the remains of this structure. 'They built enormous concrete spectacles in the desert,' they'll write in their field notes. 'And traveled great distances to swim in pools shaped like pixels.' They won't be wrong, but they'll never fully understand the strange memetic contagion that made it all seem so perfectly reasonable.