|
You will find that I have learned many fabulous words and 'concepts' during my short stay here.
Making use of the disguises our scientists have rendered, I have been in the service of a small group of men and women for approximately one year now. We have an arrangement whose workings are dictated by 'common decency' and something called the 'capitalist system'. (Both terms were included in my ethnographic report.) I sit in a small, slightly disorganized space called a 'cubicle' , which is composed of geometrically 'normal' pieces of wood, cork, plastics and various metals arranged in such a way as to maximize my comfort while minimizing the amount of space used.
In exchange for a single slip of paper, I work out millions of tiny calculations for ten days or more and for 6 hrs at a time with the help of a machine composed of glass, plastics, silicon, and a variety of metals. This machine helps me solve problems; "other people's problems" as my co-workers are wont to say. The people I work for trade a series of commands strung together into one cohesive whole, termed "software". The people who want this software have machines which understand the string of commands, and render them. I have always found it odd that when that string of commands issued by us does something wrong on machines owned by the people with whom we trade, we refer to the error we caused as "their problem".
In any case, after I have completed circa ten days of service, I am given a small slip of paper which is redeemable for an admirably large collection of small slips of rectangular green paper. With these bits of paper, I am able to coerce others into providing me with service; an arrangement whose workings are dictated by 'common decency' and something called the 'capitalist system'. Interestingly, these bits of paper have very little intrinsic value. Measured against themselves, they are worth mere tenths of a percentage point of what they are traded for. However, these pieces of paper are not mere slips…they are "promises". Ideas.
There are approximately 20 others in the service of the aforementioned small group of men and women for whom I provide service. All of us work in cubicles.
One of these folks is in the habit of putting tube shaped rolls of paper in his mouth and setting the tips of the rolls aflame. Contained within the roll are the leaves of a plant from the 'tobacco' family, which when burned, releases a chemical known as nicotine which, in addition to many other amazing properties, is a carcinogen. The leaves are processed in factories to the extent that when they leave the factories they contain a wide variety of caustic chemicals. They are then traded for small rectangular pieces of paper.
When this fellow receives his pieces of green paper, he trades a very relatively large portion of his collection for rolls of this tobacco plant. He inhales the smoke of the burning processed plant, and it makes him feel more relaxed. People have tiny capillaries in their lungs which process blood and oxygen. Oxygen is one of the human body's primary sources of motivation. These capillaries are very important for a person's survival. These are one of the many things that are destroyed by small rolls of paper containing burning leaves.
I digress. This fellow has developed a very loud, liquid filled cough. A cough is a spasm during which the lungs exhale violently in order to rid themselves of foreign objects or large amounts of mucous or phlegm. It is apparent from the veracity of this gentleman's cough that he is slowly killing himself because of his chemically driven affinity for leaf containing rolls of paper.
Again, these rolls are carcinogenic. A 'carcinogen', is a substance or agent producing or inciting cancer, which is one of the leading causes of human death (to be precise, all human deaths are caused by lack of fuel and oxygen to the brain) and is due to the proliferation of bad cell copies. I am still studying this disease. So this fellow is faced with the prospect of death everyday, but his affinity for the tobacco is so strong, that he cannot control himself.
This man hacks and coughs in his cubby for 8 hours per day. His body is very sick. I can hear him from my cubby. Then he goes home and hacks in front of his television. A television is a curious composition of glass, silica, rubber, plastics and a variety of metals. Electrons are fired at high velocities toward a piece of glass covered with phosphur atoms which then release photons in an attempt to get rid of new found energy and return to their natural state; their 'ground state'.. Human beings have learned to guide these electrons in configurations which form pictures and symbols on the glass. A human being can stare at this machine for hours. It is very relaxing, and has the effect of slowing brain activity. It has been shown that sleep, a period of hibernation I will discuss in detail later, involves more brain activity than staring at this machine.
So, the fellow has a very bad 'cough'. The items in his home are covered with a yellowish brown film...a kind of 'tar'. During my time here, I have seen thousands of people who have died from complications due to their affinity for these sticks of rolled leaves. I was once in the service of a 'mortuary'. I will leave details of that experience at a later time.
I must be brief. In the cubby next door to this hacking man, is another gentleman, whose body is also very ill. This man has terminal cancer. He is very large compared to other humans, and his body is routinely bombarded with radiation by learned folk called 'doctors' who provide medical attention to those with access to large collections of rectangular slips of green paper. Doctors are philosophers of the human body. They are also philosophers of collecting rectangular slips of green paper. They were once philosophers of morals and ethics, but they departed from that branch of science long ago.
I often wonder if the dying man with cancer will ever tell the other dying man what he really thinks of his affinity for smoking leaves, but I have never seen them speak to one another.
That concludes this report. I will be in contact with you soon, and I hope you have absorbed your lesson. Tomorrow I will report to my cubby, just as I did yesterday, and the day before. This is life, so far as I know it. I am looking for something different.
|
