As I'd predicted, the Stockwell traffic lights have been 'fixed'. Fixed so they no longer provide pedestrians with a guaranteed instant crossing. Fixed so drivers no longer have to bow to the superior whims of those on foot. Fixed so they are no longer the unique beacons of efficient beauty they once were.
This abhorrent neutering struck me with full force yesterday morning as I stood, waiting with the other poor stranded commuters, for the lights to change. For a moment, I contemplated throwing myself in front of the oblivious cars going by and shouting to the others, "Now walk, you poor stationary fools!" as my body was mashed by the churning wheels of the speed-greedy beasts of metal.
But then the lights changed, and I crossed.