This is Jordan's Furniture, a brand of furniture stores throughout New England, and as the sign would imply, their gimmick is they partner with IMAX to run their eponymous theaters in the same building. You read that right: this isn't something one or two individual locations have chosen to do, but something that defines the Jordan's Furniture brand as a whole.
Think that isn't weird enough? Don't worry: several locations (I don't know if all of them do this; just that it's a Jordan's Furniture thing) also run their own indoor amusement parks.
Don't get me wrong. Taken alone, I can understand each individual component from a rational standpoint: the amusement park gives something for the kids to do while mom and dad buy a new kitchen table, and the IMAX imparts unto you the idea that you, too, could enjoy this same experience in the home theater system the fine people at Jordan's are ready to sell you. But taken together, they leave a deeply spiritually unnerving impression upon me. It's an artifact from a forgotten era; a reminder of the capitalist celebration the end of history served to engender. "Behold", its Festival Marketplace facade cries out, "the perfect merger of private consumption and public spectacle. At last, buying a dinette set has become an event worthy of celebration."
Obviously, this only reads as celebratory within its original historical context of the 1990s and 2000s. Today, it reeks of the same desperation to drum up demand for trends for which there neither was nor ever will be any organic demand - perhaps more broadly, of the futile attempts to escape the contradictions capitalism lacks the ability to resolve itself - which has defined online spaces for the past several years. Yet at the same time, that Jordan's Furniture still exists at all attests, like all artifacts do, to the fact that it will outlive its historical moment in a way we never can.
They're showing Oppenheimer at these Jordan IMAXes. I'd recommend going, if only to approximate experiencing that one part of Beautiful Dreamer where the characters all watch Godzilla. What better parallel to watching a movie about nuclear destruction in the collapsed ruins of somebody else's dream - a dream from which YOU stand no chance of waking up?