November 16. As I drive the car to the parking garage, I see a van on Broadway, parked in the second row, just briefly, like everywhere else in Manhattan, and above the back door is a yellow running light, two segments that diverge from the center, in one, two, three steps, until they start in the center again, and diverge again, one, two, three steps, and all over again. No one sees this running light. It is completely lost in the abundance of lights on Broadway, even here, on this most boring stretch of Broadway, on the Upper West Side, the Charlottenburg of Manhattan. I want to know how this running light works. It could be made with flip-flops, a shift register, but no, I suspect it’s an entire processor, Turing-complete, that could do anything with the lights, but it’s programmed only for the three-step divergence, and between each of the steps it counts to a hundred million.