Work in Progress

An Organisational Management party – surely that’s an oxymorons. Can you actually organise a party? Manage one?

Moving philosophy to Organisational Management is the real oxymoron.

What actually is an oxymoron?

You’re just a fucking moron.

 

We’re supposed to mix.

What do you talk to Organisational Managers about?

How about asking them what Organisational Management actually is?

I don’t think I want to know.

 

Which ones are the synths? You can’t tell.

But doesn’t that make it worse, that you can’t tell? That they appear human?

So maybe they’re not synths at all.

Oh, they’re bound to be synths.

Who started the synth rumour anyway?

 

So what are you going to ask the synths?

Like, Are you synths?

Isn’t that a bit obvious?

I prefer the direct approach.

 

Uncanny valley, man. You can tell they’re not real.

 

Watching the Organisational Managers at the buffet.

Why do synths even need to eat? Do robots get hungry?

It’s just to make them more human-like. So they pass muster.

 

This is Hell, right?

Hell seems quite friendly.

That’s part of it. Don’t be fooled. They want to bring their enemy close. That’s what all this is about.

Why do they even bother?

It’s what they do. Fascists gotta fash.

They’re kinda nice fascists.

That’s how they do it, idiot. That’s how they lure you in.

 

Is that our new leader? In his three-piece suit. He’s smart. He’s northern. He’s got the common touch.

He’s very slim. Positively athletic. You can’t trust the athletic ones.

 

They’re so passionless. Can you imagine any of these people having sex?

I can imagine her having sex. Actually, I can imagine me having sex with her.

She’s the Head’s wife. She was in rehab.

How do you know that?

She’s interested in us – you can see. In you, Shiva. She has her eyes on you. Do some of your dirty dancing … Get her to come over …

 

Their lack of intensity. Their lack of fury. These dead people. These already-hung people. These zombie people. These passionless people. These reasonable people. Ready to implement the new management system of the world. And they’re not even people, that’s the thing. Are synths people?

Look, the Organisation Management / Philosophy merger is a deliberate initiative.

They’re bringing philosophy in so they can right-brain Organisational Management. It’s about introducing a different kind of thinking – that’s more, like, relational. More about the Whole, capital W. To, like, expand the palette of Organisational Management thinking.

They need a philosophical dimension – they see that. A continental philosophical dimension. It’s about correcting a whole bias of thinking. Organisational management, hitherto, has too left-brain, too analytical. But the business problems of tomorrow need right-brain solutions …

 

This isn’t just organic. It isn’t just a Newcastle thing. This is a UN thing. Or a WEF thing. This is being directed by George Soros or Rockefeller or some high-up. They realise something’s missing in their current planning for transhumanism. Or depopulation. In their table-top exercises. They need philosophy. We’ve got something they haven’t.

 

It’s all part of the new conformism. The new reining in. The new confinement. The great lassooing of dissenters. They want to bring us into the fold – of course they do. They want to Include us. For us to have our say.

It’s a false democracy thing. It’s a fake Inclusion thing. They want us round the campfire too. Where they can see us. Where they can keep an eye on us. It’s like being made to sit at the front when you’re naughty at school.

The desire to live: strong in us. We actually want to live. Or life wants to live inside us.

 

Life wants to live, despite it all. Despite us.

Life lives through us. Blindly. Stupidly. With a stupidity much greater than our own. Because it’s actually shameless. Because it doesn’t know shame.

I hate so many things.

 

I’m going to lie here and try to forget what it felt like to be loved.

 

Emergency extraction, that’s what need. To be beamed fucking up.

We’ve had Enough. We’ve exhausted the world – this world. And we need to destroy it – in us. To sacrifice the world in us. To loosen its hold.

 

Desperation, right. Desire, right. A cry Upwards. For what? Salvation? Rescue? For something else. For anything else.

 

We don’t want meaning – their meaning. We don’t want truth – their truth. We don’t want the Same. We don’t want the circling. We don’t want the same old Orbit.

The way God lives on is mocking us. It’s humiliating us. The way that God survives in our hope … We have to kill God in us. We have to close down that dimension of hope. Once and for all! … We need to stop waiting for God to reach out his hand. To uncover his face. We need to accept that no one’s there.

And be happy atheists?

And be unhappy atheists.

 

You want the world to end so you can have Meaning. You think the world’s so meaningless, so fallen, that only the end can give it, like, significance. Your desire for apocalypse is a desire for Truth. And Justice. And Goodness.

 

The problem is the non-apocalyptic. It’s existence, just endlessly existing. Endlessly ending and rebeginning. To think, it has the temerity to go on. Despite all your wild eschatology. And that’s why you’re eschatological: because you can’t bear it just going on.

It’s forbidden to despair of the world. Why? Because the world might become the Kingdom of God.

 

We think it has to be like this, the world. We think we have to suffer dereliction. But what we don’t see is the dereliction of our dereliction: the fact that it’s a contingent problem – don’t you see?

 

We fetishise suffering, right? We regard is as spiritually purifying, even now – even after the death of God, or whatever.

 

Hell is the best place to find salvation.

Who said that? Did you make it up?

I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to a philosopher before.

I don’t think I’ve never met an Organisational Manager before.

What do you make of us Organisational Managers? Admit it, you’re sceptical.

 

I saw you at a meeting, I always thought you looked kinda interesting.

Are you flirting with me?

I thought you were flirting with me. There’s a … sexual magnetism.

I’m a married woman.

How married?

You’re chancing your arm.

 

I’m literally flirting with the right.

And I’m literally flirting with the humanities.

 

Are you even straight? It’d be a surprise if you were. Humanities types are all queer, I know that. You’re all gender fluid, right? Gender fluidity hasn’t hit Organisational Management yet. We’re behind the times. Perhaps you philosophers will tell us all about it. Perhaps you’ll liberate us from the patriarchy. But you philosophers don’t go in for that kind of thing, do you? It’s more the English department.

 

So: your origin story: how did you become a philosopher?  

We don’t call ourselves philosophers. I teach philosophy, sure. But philosopher is an honorific – something you’re called by other people. No one would actually call themselves a philosopher.

How insufferably pompous! I’m going to call you a philosopher, philosopher. That’s how I’m going to refer to you, philosopher.

 

What about your origin story? How did you become a – philosopher?

How did you become an organisational manager?

Oh come on, its not half as interesting. I met my husband. Or rather, he was teaching me. He was my lecturer. And I was just an innocent Business studies student.

You studied business studies? You actually signed up for business studies?

I actually wanted to make my way in the world. Not just be another unemployed humanities grad.

If I hadn’t been unemployed, I wouldn’t have got anywhere.

Typical: the rest of society has to pay for you to lie about and contemplate.

I’m dangerous, philosopher. I’m at a loose end. I’m careening. I’m fucking things up. I’m taking revenge for my fucked-up life … Actually, I’m not really fucked-up. I didn’t have a traumatised childhood, or anything like that. I’ve got no fucking excuse – just boredom.

 

I wasn’t even in rehab. I just said that to make myself sound interesting. I don’t even have a drink problem. I don’t have anything … What do you say to make yourself sound interesting? Oh I know you actually think you’re interesting. Isn’t that something? Interesting enough not to have to sound interesting …

See, you think you’re very interesting: I can tell. You’re terribly presumptuous, philosopher. You think you’re perfectly fascinating.

I don’t think there’s anything interesting about me.

See, there you go: nothing interesting. I have nothing to declare … except my philosophy. Except all the books I’ve read … Except my philosophical attitude …

I’m sure you’ve read books, too.

Not interesting ones. Not difficult ones. Just boring books, really. Long, boring business books. And I haven’t read many of them. I’m not really into Organisational Management theory … that’s the philosophy side of things in Organisational Management – see, we do have a philosophical dimension in Organisational Management …

I’m more about applied Organisational Management. How Organisational Management works on the ground. I’m pragmatic. I haven’t poked my nose into all the old European corners, like you.

 

You think you’re dark, well I’m darker than you. You think you’re profound. Well …

Go on.

I think I’m already dead. I’m dead and this is all a dream. Or maybe it’s what flashes before you in the last moment before you die. Either way, it’s not real.

I’m … dissociated. Probably autistic. I’ve been hiding my symptoms all my life. Have you?

I don’t know. That’s what everyone says no, isn’t it?

 

It’s like I’ve been put out of use. Laid aside.

By what?

By life. I don’t have any consolations. You have your philosophy. And I have … what?