The Other

This piece was published at sillymess on July 8, 2010.

The Other

It has been growing for some time. One might have begun to realize that it is a He.

It began as an idea, easily rejected. The nature of an other to existence, something outside of, not a part of, external, is non-existence. To define the essence of the other there needs to be the under girding of the common inherent properties of all things. Rejection in an idea is an acknowledgement of meaninglessness. Meaning can have no common property with the other. It may merely be illusion, but that illusion is grounded in its nature as predicate of reality. The other comes as an object of existence and not an other. Its essence, requiring existence, paradoxically presupposing its nature as an other to existence. Too big for itself, the logic collapses inward.

Yet, the other remained acknowledged as such. As such it grew. One began to see that the necessity for the other preceded the structural support of common inherent properties. The common inherent properties themselves, being a foundation built on nothing, were in want. Only the paradoxical suffices to erect the erroneous picture of actuality that is purported, by simple observation, to exist. The other, at once in and out of what is, finds itself suddenly, against all probability, inflating. When the essence of the other, being eliminated, abandons preeminence to its nature, then the other is suitable as foundation. From the very conflict of essence and nature emerges the inscrutable and ineffable, that which can cause movement without moving.

Finally, the other imbues from its disenfranchised environment, being entwined with, superceding even the common inherent properties. It lays claim to the paramount position among concepts. And meaning will bow and be defined in the light of the other. Essence will find its own essence to be the other. There will be no definition that does not presuppose that the other is implicated. Still, it grows. All that is real, all that is unreal, it encompasses. Its very nature demands that all the imperfections fall under one heading. Perfection becomes only its mark, the view from a distant vantage point. It speaks, and nothing does not come from its voice, and so it lays claim even to person -ality and -hood. One might have begun to realize it was a He.

Taxonomy of Corporate Stoolies

This piece was published at Everyday Weirdness on July 9, 2010.

Taxonomy of Corporate Stoolies

James had been having a hard day at work. When he left home twenty minutes late he knew he was already sitting on a bed of nails, and it was just his luck that the police stopped him and nearly ripped his nose hairs out for speeding. When he got to work his boss decided to test the resiliency of his eardrums by shoving a large steel pole directly into his ear lobe. Then the secretary, in collusion with the boss, tied weights to him, and his department head spent the morning trying to pry the unfinished Holgate report from his hand. Tim, the man with the hearing trumpet in the cubicle across from James, hoping to move up in the business world, kept checking for signs of life, that he might hear the telltale sounds of an expiring career. James was tied up and strapped down. When he left his chair it seemed as if someone was watching him from behind, or maybe even from above, and drills were bored into him by many eyes when he took a water break. He knew that his coworkers were envious of his new promotion, and that his superiors were expecting more from him, but this was beginning to take its toll.

Finally when it seemed that things could get no worse he put his foot in a bear trap. He heard an eerie chuckle echo around the empty hall. Then Tim came from around the corner. When he saw James he looked at him in horror. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Tim said as he raced up to James, but the grin Tim wore said something completely different. “I was only going to leave it here for a second. I never thought anybody would come along in such a short amount of time.” James finally, recovering from shock, began to scream. The following moments were all a blur, but the next thing James knew he was being rushed out the front on a gurney. Someone shouted, “Yes!” as the doors closed.

James wondered what he had done to deserve this. He had always been friendly and reliable, but never too reliable. He worked as hard as he should, and did all that was asked of him. He never gave anybody any trouble. At the Hospital the doctor dismissed James’ injury as being mostly psychological and said that he didn’t need to be operated on anymore than he already had been. When James returned to work he found his promotion had been rescinded and reassigned to Tim. The boss said that he’d much rather have the man setting the traps in charge than the man falling into them. As James sunk back into his cubicle of anonymity he thanked his lucky stars that he had escaped a worse fate and been so easily rid of ‘that job’ as he would call it from then on.