On a Tuesday afternoon, the corner of 4th and B in Downtown San Diego is dead—strange, considering that it took me 20 minutes to find a parking spot. Foot traffic is sparse. I see maybe three people, all sitting on benches or other cement perches around Torrey Pines Bank. They’re all looking at their phones. Wouldn’t necessarily call this spot bustling with urban activity.
And at the center of all this hustle and bustle is IKE.
IKE—which stands for Interactive Kiosk Experience—rises from the sidewalk like a newly planted tree. It’s like a big iphone. Like, a really big iphone. Maybe not Godzilla-size, but good for Paul Bunyan. The monumental piece of plastic and sputtering pixels is a modern 2001: A Space Odyssey monolith: a harbinger of the future. The very dumb future.
I wouldn’t have any reason to care or even know about IKE if it wasn’t for this video of the ribbon cutting from the mayor’s Instagram
To see a crowd of professional journalists and city officials celebrating a kiosk seemed like something straight out of a Vonnegut novel; absurd is an understatement. That there was actual fucking ribbon was just icing on the dystopian cake. In a city where it’s near impossible to find a public bathroom, we’re expected to be stoked about IKE?
But perhaps I was being ungenerous. It’s not that I have anything against informational kiosks—some of my best friends are kiosks!! (always forget where the Hot Topic at Mission Valley Mall is)—but I’ve never seen a media frenzy over one, let alone a ribbon cutting.
As the mayor says in the video, IKE touts many features, including transit schedules, informational resources for residents in need (well, those who haven’t been swept away for illegal encampment), and a whole bunch of other shit. And this IKE is only the first of 50 planned kiosks throughout the city. Watch out world, because San Diego is becoming a SmartCityTM, joining the ranks of intellectual and cultural hubs like... [checks website for other IKE locations] Miami and Houston.
As I walk up to IKE, it’s not lost on me that there’s a Tesla truck parked in my direct line of sight. I snap a picture, capturing the redundancy of the stupid times we’re living in.
At least the touchscreen has good response action. The finger-swipe-feel? Above average. I swipe around, taking in the bright colors and cute icons. My brain, conditioned to release hits of dopamine in the presence of screens, gives me a little treat. The homescreen on IKE tells me the temperature and time, which saves me approximately one second of having to find that information on my phone.
I scroll down to the bottom icons and see an “Arcade” option. I press a square that says “Cosmic Clash”—a spaceship game, perhaps—but I need someone on the other side of the kiosk to play against. Just another reminder of how alone I am. How alone we all are.
The “Mindfulness” button tells me about all the yoga opportunities in the area. South Park Yoga, the first result, is only 1.8 miles away. Very convenient. Just a nice little trek to a completely new neighborhood. Tourists are gonna love that.
I switch over to the “Shelter” tab. Finally a feature that’s useful. For some reason, there’s a listing for Voice of San Diego, complete with user reviews of the site. “Yet another leftist ‘news’ organization posing as journalism” the reviewer writes. “Can the uniformity of their political views be more obvious?” Where is IKE pulling these reviews? Who knows, but good to know those in need of shelter can also commiserate with angry internet users. Technology: truly the great equalizer.
I press the ‘Job Board” button, and it brings up listings from governmentjobs.com. If there’s an opportunity that looks promising, you can scan a QR code to send it to your phone. Again, not sure what good this does because 1) if you don’t have a phone, good luck and 2) what’s the point of using the kiosk if I would just end up on my phone anyway? But that’s usually the case with all new and “Smart” technology: adding unnecessary middlemen to simple processes.
There’s an option to sign up for clean and safe walkabouts. All you have to do is scan another QR code.
I’m at IKE for approximately five minutes before I start to get bored. My brain has stopped rewarding me. I stay for another few minutes just to see if anyone else uses it, but no one even seems to notice it.
I keep coming back to the question: who is IKE really for? Is it just another low-stakes investment to generate money for the city through advertisements? Or could there be more sinister motivations. I stand there, looking back into IKE’s camera eye, and wonder what data I’ve given it. Will law enforcement get access to the information that IKE gathers? Does it already? Will police know that I have no one to play Cosmic Clash with, and will they use that against me? Will IKE itself somehow use it against me?
If that’s the case, then forget everything negative about IKE. I love it! I love machines! All hail IKE! Technology is cool!
Decided to take a peek at governmentjobs.org--yeesh. Content not updated since 2023, and it's just some basic articles. Any job searches take you to Indeed.org. A low-value, useless site. Man, the city got scammed...
Love this column. I spoke against the contract the city made to put these kiosks on our streets, and it seems my opposition was well-founded.