The Market

This is Bracknell's "The Market": easily the grandest and most ambitious structure ever created by mankind. It's so big, you can't fit it into one picture; or even two pictures. The image below represents about 13% of the total surface area of the front wall. 

Ever mindful of its commitment to space age technology, Bracknell's town council installed huge gravity modulating machines next to the front doors, shifting the gravitational force inside the building through 90 degrees such that the outside wall you are looking at now became the ceiling. Once powered, the inside of The Market became, instantly and literally, the largest vertical market in the world. Within hours of opening, the back wall, i.e. the floor, became a bustling, air conditioned shoppers' paradise several hundreds of acres in size: a bustling hive of constantly eating customers humming about on moon scooters, fast food, weapon dogs, designer labels and electronic gadgets. Within a year of opening, The Market won the CBI's award for the best venue for consumers to wander about aimlessly trying to find something to buy a bit newer and more "awesome" than the same sort of thing they and their friends already have but which will certainly be superseded within a few months by another thing nearly the same but a bit newer and more "awesome".

Sadly, having served the Bracknellian community loyally for almost 50 trouble-free years, The Market is due to be demolished. A terrible disaster resulting from a power cut caused the gravity modulators to fail and approximately 2,000 moon scooters fell hundreds of feet into an enormous stack of broken wheels, handlebars, nuclear power units, half eaten burgers, horrifically hot apple turnovers, electronic gadgets and flaccid, jelly like corpses. It took International Rescue at least two episodes of Thunderbirds to clear the mess. There are, as yet, no plans to rebuild The Market. 

Perpetual Christmas

Bracknell's authorities are always keen to give the city's residents more of a good thing; and who doesn't love Christmas?! For this reason, the Bracknell General Assembly has declared a permanent state of  festivity. That's right: in Bracknell, every day is Christmas day, 365 days a year, every year. As a consequence, Bracknell is one of the only places in the Northern Hemisphere where parched shoppers can take shelter from the raging, blistering sunshine in the shade of a massive, 60 foot, sparkling, plastic Christmas tree complete with life size nativity scene.

New Rules For Pedestrians

In order to prevent further injuries to pedestrians, from the 1st of August, no walking will be permitted in Bracknell. Despite initiatives including free tokens entitling everyone to their first hour free on a nuclear powered moon scooter and/or a 50% discount on the purchase of the same, some less well educated residents have insisted on continuing to walk about the town's shopping centre and pavements. In a statement yesterday Bracknell Councillor Martin Landau said "The complete chaos resulting from the frankly primitive behaviour of these stubborn pedestrians means, regrettably, that radical action from the authorities is now necessary. From the beginning of August, walking will be allowed only in private homes and then only until stair lifts have been installed, which will be compulsory by the beginning of August next year."

Endless Summer

For the residents of Bracknell, the balmy July days stretch out into the seemingly endless tapestry of the Bracknellovian summer.

Photogenic Bracknell

Some cities just have it: that certain something. Bracknell is one of these. Like the works of a great composer whose style is instantly recognisable, each view of Bracknell is distinct and yet unmistakably Bracknellian. This is Bracknell's bus station café, the place that Edward Hopper came for inspiration just prior to committing "Nighthawks At The Diner" to canvas. Hopper's painting, however, fails to capture the sophistication of the Bracknellian environment. Bracknell's authorities have thought of everything: from the featureless expanse of tarmac outside to the out-of-order disabled toilets, nothing is left to chance at the anonymous café.