Imagine this: The 2010 roller coaster’s announcement comes with a fancy webpage and announcement ceremony, but there are no direct references to the ride’s name. Questions are asked regarding this detail and they just refer to the ride in generic terms. Probably they’re still formulating that or they may announce a ‘name the coaster’ contest at a later date. Weeks go by and still nothing to call the hotly anticipated attraction by. Maybe they’re saving it for the official debut, as part of whatever the big surprise in the crypt is? It opens, and an elaborately haunting entryway can’t conceal the fact that no signage beyond the normal safety and height markers can be found anywhere. All the guides and brochures refer to it as “our newest roller coaster”, “Alton Tower’s eighth roller coaster”, “the ride in the Dark Forest”. Online debate rages over what to call it. Some call it “The 8th Roller Coaster” or “The Dark Forest Roller Coaster” because that’s the closest the park has ever come to naming it. Others say it should be “Intamin Family Roller Coaster” because that’s what it said on one of the shipment plates. Many call it “Unknown” because that’s how it’s still filed under the RCDb. But the rest merely murmur “that ride”, the one in the back of the park whose name cannot be uttered. Everyone knows what it is and what it looks like, yet this knowledge becomes strangely alienating because there’s no common communal label that can automatically identify this amalgamation of feelings and fears we have of this ride in our minds when discussing it with others. I think my “that ride” means the same thing to me as it does to you, but how can we ever be sure?