I have always loved the train.
Einstein has an interesting thought experiment using the train.
What physically comes to mind—that is what I think about when I think about the space of the train, the tracks, and the landscapes surrounding the tracks—is the degree of difference between the visible and the invisible. There are certain parameters that the train sets, and without stepping from this mediated, repeated process (without getting off of the train) one is led into to a very particular and peculiar situation.
There are things in the world, that have been seen hundreds of thousands or millions of times, and these things are right next to others, connected to others, and blocking others, that can’t be seen from the train, which have only been produced from a position other than the train. Unless a person seeks out these invisible sites by other means, she is limited to the same restrictive valence as those before her.
Is it possible to get atop the train? Hang from its side? Build a tower, or a periscope for it? Do we always have to get off of the train? When we get off, then what about the rest of the track—all of the other visible and invisible realities? Even if we could get off, would seeing these spaces between for ourselves be enough? What would it take to account for their multivalent production?
Ask yourself, “which train am I on?”.