|Blogs > interested13563 > BLUE WAVES|
A. P. V. I. - A STRANGE STORY, PART IV
A. P. V. I. - A STRANGE STORY, PART IV
I slowly became bolder, Bob was very easily approachable after all,
a potential friend to any potential sports-bar customer. "Tell me,
Bob", I inquired, "what do you or would you do as an organization,
or personally if some people object to your style or your proliferation?"
"Well, Paul", said he, maintaining his friendly smile with more
determination, "let me tell you something. Sometimes you've got to
swat a few flies to spread the good word and keep or bring order!"
"So your physical superiority is not just for looks, you use it
sometimes!" I exclaimed. "Sure, we use it individually or collectively
when we must. But we are discreet, good people. We love the weak, the unfit,
and the unfortunate, our heart is full of pity for them. But they've got
to know their place, act their role." He was straightforward without
any hint of concern over the validity of his statement. The listener
was nonetheless loved even pitied. That would explain the unlimited
friendliness superimposed on a background of total relegation into
irrelevance of anything or anybody that did not belong to the group.
It was, then, no surprise that his name plate was located at such an
obscure place: no thought should or could be put into the value of
the possible observer. "Swat a few flies", he repeated tapping the
desk with his large, stiff fingers making it thumb as though the paw
of an elephant had just landed on it.
I wondered: had human intelligence run its course? Was it possible
that in the automated electromechanical state of the human world,
in which only a small fraction of the population needed to have the
powers of reason and specialized as well as general knowledge,
the number of those who would simply live as automata, gears in
the overall engine that was beyond their scope to comprehend, would
steadily grow until they became the undisputed majority? It has
been known that a feature characterizing a particular species
that evolved in order to adapt to a survival challenge can slowly
atrophy when it is no longer needed. The presence of higher intellect
is nothing but one of Nature's blind paths towards solving such problems,
a feature that is by no means unique or irreplaceable. The dinosaurs,
a collection of species that so far was the most successful - that is
long lived - on this planet,apparently had very little capacity
for abstract thought even though they had developed more intelligent
varieties just before the largest ones became extinct. Perhaps humanity
was about to evolve into two new species and give its place to them:
one that possessed a brain capable of abstract thinking and one that used
only brute force, the second dominating and enslaving the first by the
imposing power of its sheer numbers and physical prowess.
Apparently the mental strength of the postulated lesser species
did not arouse any worry in the brutes trying to dominate,
not so much for their basic lack of understanding but for their utter
confidence in their own character of being. Who would be there to fight
against if almost no one was left? Who will suffer the effects of power if
those who could were no longer alive? That was the A. P. V. I. sound
prescription for global happiness. Some brainies would always
be allowed around, to run the machines, to serve the higher goal of keeping
the world fed and smiling but they would know their place.
"Not only should people be under control, they must be constantly
aware they are under control. Not only should they feel overpowered,
they should be subdued to the point of feeling absolutely impotent
to resist. When order reigns, when the good word rules, everybody
is finally happy", Bob plainly and lucidly explained. There was
no wavering in his conviction. "Swat a few flies" - with pity, this would certainly
work, violence with a grin. Again I felt amazed at the frightening
prescience of Panos K. who had already speculated on the possible
meanings of A. P. V. I.
"Tell me, Bob", I asked, "what keeps you here so late in a town where
everybody goes to bed as early as possible?". He chuckled with an air
of conspiratory revelation. "I have been writing my memoir! It is so long,
a good four pages, including the introduction and the table of contents.
You see, Paul, it is important for people to get the message. You've got
to be nice, you've got to dress well, you've got to be able to dank that ball",
said the iron tank and his voice thundered in proportion to the magnitude
of his muscular body, fairly low pitched but quite resonant, filling with
its loudness the entire office. "So you are not against glamor", I injected.
"Not at all! We are setting the standard of living!". He let a few more
sentences out, volunteering an explanation of the "good word", which apparently
was directly equivalent to "love thy neighbor", and he sounded so sincere in
his solid expression of unadulterated ignorance that one could not but
accept his presumed good intentions, his nice demeanor, his "care"
for others. But I clearly saw how love, reason, and knowledge had
to supplement one another. By the A. P. V. I. denial of the last two properties
the practice of the first was rendered a mechanical application of niceness,
hiding if not justifying the underlying physical and consequent emotional
violence promulgated by them.
TO BE CONTINUED... (JUST FOR LAUGHS)
Copyright 2005 by interested13563
11/1/2005 12:26 pm
Bob sounds like a lot of morons i met ... lol! |
11/2/2005 11:06 am
Yes, FreeLove, they are everywhere!|
11/2/2005 12:34 pm
wasn't Hitler like him ,|
11/10/2005 10:53 am
Waggy: Not really. My memoir would not be|
worth your time. But a story just might....