Work in Progress

The crisis is huger than all of us. The levee’s going to break.

What levee?

The spiritual levee. We’re all fucked, even Organisational Management.

Are you sure?

You can’t manage your way out of disaster. You can’t organise the End.

 

Hannibal, in a hatred-of-Organisational-Management trance. In a horror-of-Organisational Management trance.

Clicking fingers in front of his face. Wake up! Snap out of it!

 

These unbearable people. These stifling people. These death-on-two-legs people. These death-wielders. These purveyors of nonsense.

Do they believe their own lives? Do they even know they’re lying?

 

Tell me we’re not going to be like them. Tell me we’re not going to be brainwashed.

I can feel my brain going. Like, I want to obey. I want to go over to their side. Wouldn’t it be easy?

 

Don’t be weak. Don’t give in. Don’t yield. They’re trying to get into your head. They’re trying to make your feel weak, feel wrong. Like you’re some kind of aberration. They know all the techniques of menticide. They’ve studied all the behavioural psychology techniques. They know what they’re doing.

 

We call ourselves mediocre, but these people …

This isn’t just mediocrity. This is intelligent mediocrity. This is able mediocrity. They’re recruited because they actually believe in this stuff.

Frightening.

Surely they’re not human. Surely they’re reptilian, or whatever.

They are human, which is the true horror. 

I don't believe it. This is an alien takeover. This a demonic infestation. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them levitate …

 

Something is wrong here. Desperately wrong.

What's wrong is that there's nothing wrong. That this is how it is now. 

Don’t you think it’s suspicious, the way Organisational Management are taking philosophy in?

I don’t know.

Isn’t there some hidden agenda?

Not that I know of.

So all this is happening in good faith? You’re not even a little bit suspicious?

Not really.

You’re an innocent. An Organisational Management innocent.

And you’re a philosophy paranoid. Is this really how you think the world works? Conspiracies? Hidden agendas?

Sure. Why, do you think everything’s just out in the open? There’s a logic to all this that only the paranoid and the conspiratorial can understand. Those attuned to the real workings of things.

Only philosophers, in other words …

Maybe …

So … philosopher. Is that what you call yourself: a philosopher?

You’d never call yourself a philosopher. It’s an honorific. Something you have to achieve.  

I’ll call you philosopher, philosopher … You have a philosophical air. As I, no doubt, have an Organisational Management air.

I don’t think you have an Organisational Management air.

I’ll take that as a complement. I’m actually very philosophical, for an organisational manager. But I don’t expect you to believe that.

My friends actually think you might be a synth.

A what?

Like, an android – a biogenetic android.

But I’m not a robot, am I? Look at me: do you think I’m full of circuits and wiring, or whatever?

Synths are made out of biological tissue, which means no circuits or wiring – they’re entirely organic. The crucial difference is that they’re lab-grown, like, not born.

Like in Blade Runner?

Exactly – like the replicants in Blade Runner. Who look just like us, except that they have no emotions.

I have emotions.

You think you have emotions. Maybe they’re simulated emotions.

There was that test, right … to see whether the replicants were human or not …

Sure. They’d ask someone under suspicion a bunch of questions that are supposed to provoke an emotional response.

Like what? Give me an example.

Like, you realise there’s a wasp crawling on your arm. You: a) swat, b) squash, c) savour, d) trap. What’s the answer?

Well, I guess it wouldn’t be savour, would it? Give me another one.

Okay. Now and then you contemplate life alone. It is… a) Independent, b) Inconceivable, c) Insulting, d) Intriguing. Which one?

Intriguing: that’s what I’m not supposed to say. Actually, life alone would be very tedious. Don’t you think life on your own would be very tedious? Or would you prefer living on your own?

You see a friend who has suffered bereavement. Afterwards you feel … a) Annoyed at their lack of engagement, b) Powerless to help, c) Saddened or d) Bored. 

D) Bored … ever so bored. Infinitely bored. I’m bored of bereavement and bored of these very-easy-to-see-through questions and bored of everything … Ask me some real questions. About real thing.

Okay, some other questions. Tell me your life story in five minutes.

Born. Grew old. Grew bored. Married … I would say happily, but I’m not so sure …

Tell me yours.

Now that would be tedious.

The real philosophical question is whether we should kill ourselves or not. That’s Camus, right?

Sure. The Myth of Sisyphus.

And what conclusion have you come to? Should we kill ourselves?

There might be other ways to entertain ourselves.

The Organisational Management move. The last move. The assimilatory move. Turning us all into philosophical Marranos.

Philosophical what?

Those Jews forced to convert to Christianity and who would henceforward practice their faith in secrecy. Until they even forget who they once were.

Will that happen to us? Will we forget?  

 

We’ll live in the secret, which can never be brought into the Organisational Management light, and must never be brought into the light.

We’ll live in the secret. It’ll inhabit us, take us over. We’ll become the purest philosophers of all, who’ve even forgotten all philosophy. We’ll pass for Organisational Managers. But we won’t be Organisational Managers.

So this is where they’re going to bury us! A philosophical crypt, in the basement. This is where they’re going to move Philosophy once we’re incorporated into Organisation Management.

And it’s so purple! Why did it have to be purple?

It’s so warm. And wet. It’s positively damp. Are we going to catch consumption?

They don’t understand that by burying us, they’ll resurrect us, too. We’re going to be reborn, don’t you see? We’ll burst out of the crypt. We’ll show what philosophy was all along. Only now, in the final hour, when philosophy’s dead and buried, will philosophy be revealed.

 

We’re thinkers of the basement! Of the underground! In the Newcastle mud, basically. Among the buried things.

 

This is where it ends! From Athens to this! The whole adventure of Western thought! The whole history! The whole tradition! This is where it’s buried!

 

In the basement, and full of messianic fever. With our own sky, the philosophical sky.

 

This is what philosophy needed: to be lost, so it can find itself again. And we’re the ones who are going to find it.

Are we?

 

The philosophical dungeon. The philosophical pit. Where they’ll scatter the philosophical ashes.

 

This is the very example of a messianic inversion. Which we’ll have to invert in turn. Because Organisation Management really is the opposite of philosophy …

 

The philosophical oubliette. Where they’re going to forget us! Bury us forever!

 

We’re the philosophical nearly dead. The philosophical undead.

 

There’s a spirit still hovering over the Organisational Management ashes: philosophy’s spirit, which hasn’t been lost.

Life-pods. Oh these are going to be good.

Check it out. This is how we’re all going to live …

AI run … AI programmes specific air quality, scent and solar intensity … Continually filtering the air and capturing carbon … Helping to manage energy levels …

AI watches over you while you sleep, apparently … Analysing your emotional responses as you dream.

AI examines you piss, to analyse your pancreatic function. And your shit, to analyse your gut bacteria and antibiotic use. Fucking A. And your smart-fridge can give you tailored diet recommendations. So it can ferment the right soybeans that are growing on your roof. And your smart-oven will suggest food customised to your unique digestive system and give you personalised and dynamic nutrition plans. And then your smart-sink can mix the right biotic mix in your water.

Yay preventative health strategies! Yay living forever!

The Organisational Management campus.

Reading the virtual guide.

Our overarching vision is to create one of the world’s premier locations for the integration of science, business and economic development. Our ultimate aim is to make people’s lives healthier, longer and more prosperous.

They’re here to help us all to live better lives! Better – did you hear that? Healthier! Smarter! Longer! Who could object to that?

Reading further.

They’re showing how researchers, businesses, progressive home owners can live side by side. Progressive home owners only, note. I’ll bet there’s serious vetting …

They’ll want good-attitude people. Positive people. Solutions-focused people. Bigger-picture people. Communitarian types. Who care about the planet. Not nay-sayers, like us. Not draggers-down-of-others.

Reading further.

A collaborative ecosystem for public and private bodies. It’s a place of Curiosity and Innovation … State of the art amenities … New office spaces! Championing collaboration! Connectivity!

That building’s called The Catalyst. Do they think by actually calling it a catalyst that it’ll actually be a catalyst?

That one’s called Innovation Engine. Kind of hubristic, isn’t it? They should call a building, A Really Good Idea, by the same logic. Or Money Maker. Or Cash Cow.

That building’s called The Catalyst. Do they think by actually calling it a catalyst that it’ll actually be a catalyst?

That one’s called Innovation Engine. Kind of hubristic, isn’t it? They should call a building, A Really Good Idea, by the same logic. Or Money Maker. Or Cash Cow.

The way it’s all laid out. They’ve put thought into this. Planning. It must be based on some UN model of population pacification. They know what they’re doing. This isn’t random. Perfect for social control, or whatever. Perfect for future lockdowns …

It’s working on us now. Can’t you feel it? The very architecture. The very layout of the buildings. The paving stones they use. Nature, like, in homeopathic doses. Those trees – so called trees. The synthetic biological trees. And those … squirrels. Are they squirrels?

They’re robotic 3D printers, it says here. Strengthening stress points, adding carbon resistance patches.

Fucking A.

Check out the roof trees, or whatever.

They’re actually vertical farms … God, this place is aggressively sustainable.

All buildings autoregulated for efficiency. Their energy codes synchronised. All of them biomimetic, incorporating biological architecture.

This isn’t just a campus, it’s a vision of the world. Of how things should be. A perfect alliance of technology and care! Green tech solutions! A solution for all! To all the global challenges!

My God, the world’s going to be so green-organised! So green-managed! They’re doing it for the planet, on the Organisational Management campus. They’re doing it for eco-diversity! It’s sublime!

The planet’s crying! The planet’s in pain! And Organisational Management has come to wipe its tears.

They’re idealists, in their way. They’re fighting for a kinder world. Who couldn’t get behind this? It’s for our children, and our children’s children! Who could possibly object?

I want to kill myself.

Wow, this place is called the catalyst café. Is it really called that. Pick up a drink to go, it says. Hold informal meetings and catch-ups. Would you like a catch-up, guys? Shall we have an informal meeting?

Can’t you just feel the life? Can’t you feel the networking opportunities?

I want to kill myself.

Wow, this place is called the catalyst café. Is it really called that. Pick up a drink to go, it says. Hold informal meetings and catch-ups. Would you like a catch-up, guys? Shall we have an informal meeting?

Can’t you just feel the life? Can’t you feel the networking opportunities?

And here are the eateries. Perfect spots to grab food – see you grab food. You don’t sit down and eat it. You’re too fucking dynamic for that.

Okay – entertainment zone. Are you ready? Are you braced? Spaces and places for everyone, apparently. It’s buzzing with events. With pop ups.

Places to eat and drink. And stunning public spaces! For people to meet, chat, share ideas and challenge one another!

Ooh challenge one another. Won’t that be something! It’s not all consensus here.

Bars … They have mixologists at the ready. They’re preparing signature cocktails.

Comedy clubs. Organisation Management campus comedy!? What’s that like?

You never actually have to leave the campus. All these happy people, right. All organisationally managed.

There’s a spiritual space. There’s an innovation hub. There’s an artist’s space.

Poets have been involved in the design. Their words run along the paths. Artists, too. Some sound works. Some sculptural works.

Philosophers?

Not philosophers yet … but we’ll have a role, I’m sure.

I WANT TO KILL MYSELF.

See, you’re just the sort of person Organisational Management campus doesn’t need. You’ve got entirely the wrong attitude.

What would do, if we lost all this? Where would we go? We’d be penniless. Homeless, probably. Developing major fucking addictions.

This is the only life we’re used to. We’re not equipped for anything else. We haven’t got the skills. The personality. The can-do attitude.

A can’t-do attitude: that’s what we have. An instant defeat attitude. A sink-down-on-our-knees-and-wail attitude.

 

Compromise … Negotiation … We’re not made for that. We’re not diplomats. We’re not careful with what we say. We’re erratic. We’re not used to speaking to outsiders. To non-philosophers.

 

They could close us down, just like that. It’d be nothing to them. Don’t forget that. We’ve got to sell ourselves. We’ve got to survive. Compromise. We can’t be fanatics now. We can’t be fundamentalists. We have to sleep with the enemy, basically.

Philosophy, absorbed into Organisational Management! Philosophy, become part of the Organisational Management extended universe! Philosophy, drawn into the Organisational Management orbit!

 

Why has Organisational Management seized upon us? Why have we aroused Organisational Management’s interest? We tried to be unobtrusive. We tried to camoflague ourselves. We kept quiet. We stuck our heads over no parapet.

We did what we were told, pretty much. We played along with all the university idiocies. We followed the rules. We didn’t ask any questions. And we were ignored, for the most part. We were left to get on with it …

 

The Organisational Management move.

A comedy. A farce. But who’s laughing? A black comedy. Comedy of a time without rules, without centre. Comedy of a time when anything goes and everything goes. Comedy of a time beyond satire. That satirises itself, and no one notices.

Comedy of a time without the old norms, without the old values. Without a shared sense of what is just, what is unjust. Comedy of a time where the old values have been swept away, carried away.

Anomic comedy. Abyssal comedy. Comedy that laughs at itself laughing, and at the futility of laughing at itself laughing. Comedy after tragedy, after face.

 

Organisational Management regard us as an object of interest. Of curiosity. They’re interested in us. Would that they weren’t interested! Would that they were perfectly indifferent! Would that they simply ignore us! Would that they let us simply exist in our corner, more or less unnoticed.

Intolerable! That’s what it is. Unendurable! Why do we have to be put through these things?

Omoi! Omoi! That’s we should cry, like tragic heroes. But it isn’t even tragic, that’s the thing. We don’t even have tragic grandeur, that’s the pity of it. It’s less than tragic. It’s pathetic. Laughable. Derisory.

 

The Organisational Management move.

A comedy. A farce. But who’s laughing? A black comedy. Comedy of a time without rules, without centre. Comedy of a time when anything goes and everything goes. Comedy of a time beyond satire. That satirises itself, and no one notices.

Comedy of a time without the old norms, without the old values. Without a shared sense of what is just, what is unjust. Comedy of a time where the old values have been swept away, carried away.

Anomic comedy. Abyssal comedy. Comedy that laughs at itself laughing, and at the futility of laughing at itself laughing. Comedy after tragedy, after face.

I had a … vision. Or really, a series of visions.

What did you see?

It was the near future. I never knew the date. Something terrible had happened. It was perpetually dark. Like perma-twilight. And it was so heavy. Like gravity had been turned up. Doing the simplest thing cost such effort. And everything was muffled and distant. There was this terrible disconnection. If you shouted, you wouldn’t be heard. If you cried out, no one would hear you.

There were all these imagines – very brief. People running for their lives, with their children. And then there were these fake people: like robots, but flesh and blood … Wraps, they were called. I don’t know how I knew that. And the wraps were possessed. They were Inhabited by … demons. Like, evil spirits,  seeking embodiment.

I looked in books – familiar books – but couldn’t understand them. All the words were corrupted. I listened to music – music I used to know. And all I heard were terrible tones.

There were these time loops. That people got stuck in. Repetitive behaviours. Just lopping round and round … And the weirdest thing was that you couldn’t die. Like, if you died, you’d just come back to life.