The Organisational Management campus knows no bounds.
That’s because the Organisational Management campus is within us.
What kind of civilization would build a campus like this?
This is the architecture of soul death. A satanic architecture. What technologies of soul destruction are they using?
Aren’t we supposed to approve of brutalism? Ideologically?
It’s not even brutalism. It’s too nice to be brutalist. It won’t even admit its utter shitness.
At least we can talk about how much we hate it, this world – that’s something, isn’t it? At least it allows us that.
It likes it. It likes to mock us by indulging it. By letting us say whatever we like. And then showing total indifference. Showing that resistance is futile and laughable and stupid.
And that’s it’s totally accounted for – that’s the thing. That it’s expected – that it’s all calculated. That it’s all organised and fucking managed.
The great futility: that’s what we’re supposed to be reminded of. Our futility. And everything does remind us of that. All their smiles. Their welcomes. All the nice things they tell us are just to remind us of our total impotence. That this is how it is and how it will be, now and forever.
They believe that they’re doing it for the good – the managerial good, which is the only good around now. There’s a self-righteousness about them. That’s part of the hideousness.
The totalitarianism hasn’t even begun, not really, and it’s already insufferable. I mean, it’s not even happened yet.
But it will, and we know it will. That’s the problem. It’s part of the law of the world.
I can’t live in dread. Like perma-dread. I think we should kill ourselves now. We’ll only kill ourselves sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time. So why not kill ourselves now?
It’s some stupid curiosity keeping us alive. We want to see what the horror looks like, though we know exactly what it’ll look like. Not sure why …
Where will it fail? When will it fall apart? When will it come down? It’s stupid, but it feels, like it has to end. It has to be destroyed. Just of itself. Because, because – it’s wrong. Because of some law of the world.
How long do dictatorships last? Years? Decades?
But this is a new kind of dictatorship, right? The whole digital thing. The control grid’s tighter.
When will we snap? At what point?
Haven’t we snapped already?
They’ll philosophy-whisper us. Breathe into our philosophical nostrils, or whatever. Stroke our philosophical manes. Give us philosophical sugar lumps. Reassure us. Make it all seem okay.
They’re not bright, we’re agreed on that. They’re positively stupid. But they have that manipulative intelligence. That sly thing. That ratlike cunning. All insidious. All opportunistic.
When are they going to come for us?
They’re already got us, idiot. This is already a prison. This is already death.
So they allow us to teach this stuff?
Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?
I’d prefer them raiding us. Holding us at gunpoint. I’d prefer that. If they saw us as some threat.
Because they know we’re not actually threat. The students never attend class, never listen. They’re not interested. And they’ve already full to the brim with whatever bullshit they learnt at school. They’re saturated. Waterlogged. Nothing else can get in. It just runs over the surface.
Are we the resistance?
Only if they want us to be the resistance. And they probably do. They probably brought us here to have a resistance. To enjoy having a resistance. It was a kind of gift to themselves: a resistance. To see what we’d do. Whether we might surprise them.
So vive le resistance, right?
Was there ever a ‘before’? Was it always this? I can’t remember anymore.
They brought us here, to this campus, for a reason.
What reason? To keep your friends close, but the resistance closer.
Work in Progress 