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the notion of humanness: perception and understanding
by robert delamar
Television Clip
Powerful man. Under the glare of the television lights he looks small. He's been caught in flagrante delicto. The illusion of authority crumbles. His betrayal is understandable but seems somehow ordinary writ large on the small screen. He shrivels under the assault of noise, light, and anticipation. He has been caught in the throes of disloyalty. A Fawkesian plot uncovered at the last moment. Call Centre Faceless man speaks with another faceless man. The call has come in. Mundane telephony discussed. Apparently a payphone somewhere can't receive calls. Somewhere , to the raspy hysterical voice on the one end, is the local mental hospital. A hard man he understands the vagaries of the city's skid row. He knows all about the payphones in Pigeon Park. How the phones there can receive calls (they are the main means of conducting the region's most prominent drug trade). How come he can't receive calls in the place he is now? Accusing. His voice stares through the prisons, connected by copper wires, which separate them. He asks, "Shouldn't a guy get calls in a hospital?" The phone in the hospital has been programmed to allow outgoing calls only. The man with the knowledge of this actual, cruel reality can't bear to tell this to the man on the end of the line. They speak of cedar trees instead. About how the trees from the Coastal Rainforest create the best telephone poles. The patient prisoner was once a telephone pole faller. Fundraiser Powerful man at podium asks: "Why can't the citizens of the country have access to health care, social security, social justice, whilst enjoying unprecedented prosperity." Wealth. The suggestion is that means create ends. Opportunity. That through prosperity a nation can achieve its dreams. This man has more wealth than the operator in the call centre, or the prisoner in the mental hospital can ever dream of. Yet, this man is thwarted. The leader who is unable to lead. Thwarted by other powerful men. Means can't achieve everything seems to be the bitter lesson. For the man in the mental hospital what will wealth do for him? Will it ultimately allow him to receive calls in prison? Will having a job bring him mental and spiritual peace? Wealth hasn't allowed the powerful man at the podium to achieve his dreams. He's still only the second most powerful citizen of the country. The call centre gentleman approaches him. A faceless man, approaching one whose face is recognizable on every street in the nation. Up close the second in command is different. Composed, interested charisma combined with a wealth of personal experience. On a television screen his charisma is muted, his sincerity muffled by the unrelenting demand for information. Where are we going? Where will you lead us? Will you lead us? Why do you want to? Why should you? The faceless man starts to speak and sputters. What does one who is nothing say to those who are something? The leader, in his natural capacity, leads. He asks, "What's your name young man?" The faceless identified. The powerful and the unknown have become connected, if only for a brief instant. Fast Food The woman behind the counter is overweight. In her late teens, she has a soft smile. She serves the reams of impersonal their daily ration of pleasurable fat. All meals the same. Another faceless man comes to the counter. Over the course of his journey he has spoken with potential potentates, and the actually insane. At this moment he's thinking only of this precious unknown whom he is about to encounter. His silent contemplation is broken by the sound of a familiar voice. A voice that demands phone service. And now mustard. In a cup. He shouts, "Why can't I get it in a cup?" Another girl answers, " 'Gainst store policy, sir." "Well then I ain't eatin' my burger." He yells. Turns. Goes to his table. Picks up the burger. Brings it back. Open. Authority arrives. "What's the problem here?" A supervisor asks. He sneers, "She ain't givin' me mustard." The supervisor attempting to ameliorate his demands replies, "We can give you mustard on your burger but not in a cup." The burger man, his voice pitching higher pleas, "Why the hell can't I have it in a cup then?" The supervisor retorts, "It's against the store policy, sir." He knows that placing mustard on a burger is more efficient, it creates wealth for shareholders, saving the pennies that are wasted on the cup and the excess inevitably left inside. The burger man, whose demand seems quite crazy, is suddenly placated. It's against the rules. The supervisor passes the burger to an assistant. He reaches inadvertently for the ketchup. The man howls across the kitchen, "Don't you know the difference between mustard and ketchup?" "What am I paying for here?" Dreams Can these unconnected experiences actually coincide in the mind? Were these dreams? Images evoked from past experiences, whether real, virtual or imagined? How can one understand his life when the lives of others seem so baffling? In the end we have rules to manage this misunderstanding. Rules create a sense of understanding, in that they proscribe and predicate means of behaviour. In order to lead, one must respect the leader. In order to lie, one must change the subject. In order to live, one must eat. In order to understand, one must control. Always control. With control comes prosperity. Through rules, the world can create wealth, protect shareholders, keep coin phones in order, build hospitals and shut people inside them, build offices in which to do the same, and of course, control succession, and deposition. Instead of ketchup one can have mustard. On a bun. With rules, one can create a facade of sense.And misery continues to sound. A grating, frustrating voice. Demanding justice.
Copyright © 2000 Robert Delamar. All Rights Reserved Robert Delamar believes in the power of the state, the church and rock n' roll. He's the Managing Editor of *spark-online.