Work in Progress

Is philosophy the oldest subject there is? The oldest subject ever?

It’s the Queen of the sciences.

I thought that was theology.

Philosophy came before theology. Philosophy was the first subject of all, and everything branched off of it. Physics. And chemistry and maths. And art. Leaving only … philosophy.

And what’s philosophy when it’s just leftover stuff?

I wonder about that sometimes.

When it’s just bits and pieces. Broken things. Scraps and fragments.

 

Maybe now’s the time when philosophy can come into its own. As nothing. As nothing important.

As irrelevant, you mean. As useless as all the humanities.

No – as even more useless. As, like, hyperbolically pointless. As being for nothing. Burning up for NOTHING, in capital letters. Like some great sacrifice …

I like spending time with you. I like this time. I like wandering around the building at night. Wandering through the offices. I like the open space. I like the darkness.

 

Isn’t it great before anything – actually – begins. Isn’t it?

I wouldn’t know.

You know. When everything’s just … suspended. And full of possibility. But nothing’s actually happened yet.

 

Do you feel light, philosopher? Do you feel you could just float up into the air? Don’t you feel suspended? Like you don’t know what’s going to happen next. Like you’re free from the old world. From the world before …

 

This might as well be the last night in the world. The last night there ever was. But it won’t be, will it? There’ll be another night and another one.

You know, I’d like if it really was the last night. If it really did come to an end – to a climax. And not just drag on. For there not to be just more and more – time.

The last night for humans, anyway. And the universe would just go on without us. There’d just be endless darkness, without us. And, in time, everything living on the earth would die. And the earth wouldn’t be blue anymore. It wouldn’t be this blue orb. It’d be black. A cinder. And grey. As it should be.

I think it’s possible that I willed you into being. That you didn’t exist until I … wanted you to.

I think you were born from my unhappiness. Because I was unhappy, I dreamed you up. I conjured you out of nothing.

 

I thought of you before I met you. When I couldn’t sleep, and I often can’t sleep. When I lay there, awake. I … anticipated you. I knew you were coming. That you would appear, created out of my desire.

Out of your desire for what?

For philosophy. I made you as a philosopher – the opposite of Organisational Management. With philosophical thoughts – the opposite of Organisational Management thoughts. With philosophical dreams – the opposite of Organisational Management dreams. I conjured you up and all your friends because I wanted company. Anarchic company. And life. And fun at an Organisational Management party.

*Look at us, we’re a conspiracy. Of two. Just the pair of us. We’re going to set the world on fire.

Do you think?

We’re going to die a love death. We’ll be one of those couples who commit suicide. Who are bad – very bad for each other. Can’t you tell?

 

Let’s kill ourselves. A suicide pact? A love death. That’s what they’re called, isn’t it? We’ll be together in death. Except we won’t even reach death, will we? Where death is, I am not. Where you are, death can’t be. You never actually die. Which means you can never actually die. In the first person. You don’t have the power to kill yourself.

So you can’t just throw yourself off the mezzanine?

I don’t actually think it’s a far enough drop? It’d just leave us with life changing injuries? That would be a flop, wouldn’t it?

 

We’re both mad, aren’t we? And we’re going to increase each other’s madness. Multiply it.

And then the towers will fall down.

Do you think?

The campus – which can’t burn, because it’s all glass and steel – will burn anyway. A cold flame, like the northern lights, or something. But it’ll burn.

 

Here, at the heart of the Organisational Management campus … it all begins again. We’ve been given a chance. Somehow or other. Another chance … because we’ve been gasping for … something.

 

Would I like to be a comet? Yes. for they have the speed of birds, they  flourish in fire and are as children in purity.

Who said that?

Hölderlin.

Hölderlin’s pretty fucking cool.

*No one talks of these things in Organisational Management. We have to whisper it. Whisper it, philosopher. Say forbidden things. Here,  tonight. Whisper them to me …

Why do they want to let us live at all? I thought we were all supposed to be useless eaters. I thought they’d just want to wipe us out.

Seriously – why would they want to build luxury pods for us?

They hardly luxury.

Whatever they are. Why do they need us to live?

They have a conscience, I guess.

Maybe they get off on having power over the little people. So there need to be little people. Anyway, they haven’t got the stomach to kill us. It’d be bad internal marketing. It wouldn’t sell. There are still some taboos.

I don’t believe it.

Look, the governing elite aren’t actually mass murderers.

But they think there are too many of us.

Sure, but there are other ways to solve us than murder. Sterilisation, for one thing.

They think we’re cancer on the planet.

We’ll die out all by ourselves. I mean, we’re not having children, are we?

They’re spreading the philosophy of self-loathing – maybe that’s it. They want us thinking animals are better than we are. They want us filled with so much guilt, that we just top ourselves. Or at least don’t breed. That’s how we’ll do the dirty work for them.

I think we died and woke up on this campus. I Have we been resurrected in some ghastly experiment? Are we in some AI simulation? It’s, like, Hell. Or Purgatory …

 

We’re in a false timeline. Under Satan’s rule.

 

We’re enclosed. Trapped. It’s a big trap, but a trap nonetheless. I feel a kind of … claustrophobia. Which is indistinguishable from agoraphobia. The vastness of the campus is an enclosed vastness. The infinite size is a finite size, is contained within limits. This isn’t our place. It’s alien.

There is no other world, not even this one: who was it that said that?

This is not business as usual, apparently. It’s future-first. This is a future-first economy and society.

It’s about fostering unrestricted thinking. Driving progress. Coming up with fresh solutions to the most pressing challenges. Leading the planet a little closer to its future …

 

It’s about data-led management. Groundbreaking cognitive technologies. Unrivalled connectivity. Cutting edge AI and immersive technologies. Continuous innovation and economic development.

 

They’re making it a global destination. A new cultural capital. Bringing together the world best talent and innovators … By the chance to make history … In a game-changing circular economy. Creating a sustainable future for all.

 

And it’s not just physical – it’s virtual, too. They’re developing an immersive, mixed-reality metaverse. They’re going full-bore with digital twin tech …

 

They’re rebranding it Newcastle U. Not university? The U. They want all the kids to say the U.

 

It’s supposed to be a fully integrated and functional educational ecosystem. Continuous professional development, provided at scale.

It’s a test bed. It’s a place for experimentation. They’re seeing what they can do with us. How they can manage us.

To what end? With what purpose?

It’s a living laboratory for a new kind of society. Totally managed, totally organised. A perfect technocracy.

And they kind of mean well, which is part of the horror. It isn’t just subjugation. They kind of believe in what they’re doing. They think it’s a complex solution to the complexity of the society.

 

The sheer mass and scale of it all! It’s almost admirable.

So many overlapping organisations at work here. So many think tanks. NGOs – national and international.

Not just the political elites, or the judiciary elites. Not just old and new money elites. Not just the central bankers. They’re a breed apart, the new rulers of the world.

Raised, educated, housed, socialised in virtual isolation from the rest of us. Part of their own world. With its own social, political and moral norms. The technocratic elites on top. The middle managers beneath them. Cycled into different roles. Then the front line technocrats beneath them.

The whole system is self perpetuating! Self-propagating! Self-defending! Has become a power in and of itself! Is autonomous! Trans-national! Unaccountable! And has finally made its power move …

This is the Newcastle outpost of the New World Order.

 

They’re poisoning us – for our health. They’re filling us with fear – for our own sanity. They’re subjugating us – for our freedom. They’re crushing us to death – so that we can breathe. They’re brainwashing us – for our education.

 

Helmut, whispering in German.

In English, Helmut! In English!

Helmut: Everything is functioning. And that the functioning drives us more and more to even further functioning. There are only technical things and technical relationships …

We’re a broad church.

I hate … tolerance.

But tolerance doesn’t hate you.

I hate tolerance because it doesn’t hate me – not enough.

Because it doesn’t understand the threat you are. Because it doesn’t understand that you want to blow up the world, or whatever. Poor you, so misunderstood. What you fear is that tolerance has you worked out. Knows that you’re eminently tolerable. That you fit right in. Perfectly.

 

You’d like be some terrorist, but you’re not. You’ve already been screened. You’re safe.

I’m not – safe.

You’d like to be some terrible threat, but you’re not. Face it. Do you think the Organisational Management campus would let you in, if you weren’t?

How would it know?

Based on, like, all your past behaviour. On all the data it’s gathered about you.

I could surprise you. I could just … flip out.

Go on then: flip away.

 

You want to break me.

You’re already broken.

You want to turn me.

You’ve already turned. You’re already obedient – perfectly so.

The common room.

The kindness board.

Oh this. It’s supposed to inspire us.

Quotations in colour, at jaunty angles. Reading: Embedding kindness behaviours in the organisation culture. Planting seeds of kindness. Kindness is Contagious … Pass It On. No one can agree on the word, compassion, but we agree on kindness. No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.

That’s the Dalai Lama, I think.

Reading. Small gestures of kindness matter. Who said that? Malcolm X? You’re the fucking kindness mafia, you guys.

It’s kindness week. Or kindness month. Or kindness season. Actually, I think it’s permanent kindness now. You saw the sign above the door: KIND ZONE.

Reading. Positive organisations are developed through the creation of: a positive climate; positive relations; positive communication and positive meaning, including an emphasis on compassion, forgiveness and gratitude among employees.

Drawings. Acts of kindness. Is that supposed to be Mother Theresa?