Pennsylvania Haunted House Owner Trades in Spooky Specters for Silicon Valley Showstoppers
Derek Strine, the owner of Pennhurst Asylum, a notorious haunted attraction nestled within the crumbling walls of a former state-run medical institute, has conjured up an unlikely successor to his paranormal pastime: a high-profile AI data center. The $60 million first phase of the project alone will be spent on engineering and permitting costs, dwarfing his initial investment in the haunted house venture, which he bought for just $3 million.
While it's natural that Strine would seek to capitalize on his property's unique charm, the conversion to a hyperscaler's playground has sparked fierce resistance from the local community. Concerns about noise pollution and water shortages are well-founded, given data centers' notorious reputation for siphoning off nearby residents' supplies. This is a pattern that has played out in communities worldwide, where the constant hum of machinery and the endless stream of digital exhaust can make life unpleasantly unhealthy.
Strine's foray into the world of AI-driven tech comes at an inopportune time, as it underscores the depths to which the industry has sunk. A recent survey from CBRE found that a staggering 95% of real estate investors plan to increase their investments in data centers – a sector notorious for its astronomical costs and often unsustainable business models.
Strine's venture is just one chapter in this unfolding saga, however. According to data center consultancy ASG, approximately 90% of announced projects never materialize, leaving them as ghost centers – eerie, abandoned relics of hubris and bad planning. It's a fitting metaphor for the AI-driven tech industry's own uncertain future, where hype and speculation often masquerade as concrete reality.
The irony is palpable: Pennhurst Asylum, once a bastion of spooky fun, has been supplanted by the cold, unforgiving machinery of Silicon Valley. Strine's decision serves as a harbinger for what's to come – a future where the eerie glow of screens and servers supplants the flickering lights of haunted houses, where the sounds of data centers drown out the whispers of the paranormal.
Derek Strine, the owner of Pennhurst Asylum, a notorious haunted attraction nestled within the crumbling walls of a former state-run medical institute, has conjured up an unlikely successor to his paranormal pastime: a high-profile AI data center. The $60 million first phase of the project alone will be spent on engineering and permitting costs, dwarfing his initial investment in the haunted house venture, which he bought for just $3 million.
While it's natural that Strine would seek to capitalize on his property's unique charm, the conversion to a hyperscaler's playground has sparked fierce resistance from the local community. Concerns about noise pollution and water shortages are well-founded, given data centers' notorious reputation for siphoning off nearby residents' supplies. This is a pattern that has played out in communities worldwide, where the constant hum of machinery and the endless stream of digital exhaust can make life unpleasantly unhealthy.
Strine's foray into the world of AI-driven tech comes at an inopportune time, as it underscores the depths to which the industry has sunk. A recent survey from CBRE found that a staggering 95% of real estate investors plan to increase their investments in data centers – a sector notorious for its astronomical costs and often unsustainable business models.
Strine's venture is just one chapter in this unfolding saga, however. According to data center consultancy ASG, approximately 90% of announced projects never materialize, leaving them as ghost centers – eerie, abandoned relics of hubris and bad planning. It's a fitting metaphor for the AI-driven tech industry's own uncertain future, where hype and speculation often masquerade as concrete reality.
The irony is palpable: Pennhurst Asylum, once a bastion of spooky fun, has been supplanted by the cold, unforgiving machinery of Silicon Valley. Strine's decision serves as a harbinger for what's to come – a future where the eerie glow of screens and servers supplants the flickering lights of haunted houses, where the sounds of data centers drown out the whispers of the paranormal.