The nine-to-five work week is no longer. In a conference board room under cold fluorescent lights, a crew of dark suits have assembled. Penny-pincher Deloitte boys were busy trimming fat. Highlighting a biotech company’s shortcomings, a PowerPoint presentation is given. The consultant glibly states with anticipation, “Time to see what we else can cut.”
Being out-of-work has a habit of lingering uncomfortably in one’s mind. At dawn, a frazzled ex-employee who can’t sleep, sprinkles TetraMin into an aquarium. Fish food flakes cover the water’s surface. A prize-winning show guppy slowly rises, flexing an extraordinary colorful tail. The creature gobbles up breakfast. It was clear from the writing on the wall, “You’ve been let go.” Given how ruthless profit-driven corporations operate under pressure, new technologies enjoy eliminating outdated workers.
For the few, who aren’t the quiet kind, consider a few bullet points: the company bottom line is best served when business decisions skimp on logic. A “cash flow” problem will force management to press the panic button resulting in a string of midnight emails. Next morning, you’ll receive dubious requests, obsessive thinking and mental flutter. The text contains dumb, jargon-coded words like “restructuring” and “one person teams.” When you start reading that kind of crap, your sphincter tightens. Catchy word speak, in my opinion, simply serves as a mask for bad judgment. Kicking artistic individuals to the curb is a profoundly unpleasant experience.
Every day, workplaces are disappearing. Already ancient history, movie theaters are boarded-up and closed. Iron and steel mills became casinos. Dusty stacks of newspapers and magazines accumulate in old design studios and newsroom morgues. Rounds of current corporate giants lowering the axe generate a laundry list of HR department complaints with kneejerk replies. “It is what it is... can’t deal, go someplace else.” Next.
Some of today’s corporations expected to thrive, just don’t. Dealing with failure, implements a series of sudden procedures: locks changed, computer access restricted, layoffs contacted via email firings. Smarty pants “never me” lifers appear dismayed in the domino freefall. Given cardboard boxes, the barebones staff are instructed to take all personal belongings. The empty office floors remain littered with cut phone cords, bits of tape, scraps of paper, and empty soda cans. “Get out now!” firings of this nature may result in a possible flash mob protest on a former boss’ doorstep.
The situation looks, sounds, and is depressing. Shedding light on the newly unemployed, and broke, there’s a chance to enjoy city parks. And why not? Your idea was stolen and never fully realized. Sharing memories back and forth, this biotech invention also transferred thoughts between animals and humans. Something like that was never thought possible.
At a paramount meeting, top tech CEOs scrutinized and sneered, declaring your work nonsense. They claimed, “That kind thinking drifted into crazed fantasy. Leave those concepts to artists. What you’re proposing, we can’t even conceive of having validity under any circumstances. Our field is selling happy science.”
“Oh, I see.” he said. Each insult made him more nervous.
The tropical fish hobbyist employee thought, “I’m going to fight.”
Desperation made him resentful because of an unmistakable bad feeling. The company had promised him a cut in profits after several prototypes were produced. Never happened. To even up accounts, a coup seemed in order. The process involved self-appropriating two works in progress, collecting vacation pay and then quitting. In the aftermath, the firm stated his termination was a “with cause” firing. Screwed again, no unemployment checks. The company filed for bankruptcy shortly thereafter.
The weeks that followed mirrored the hobbyists’ darkening mood. So, he decided to try a little experiment. In a city park, two men on a bench were talking about the truths in life. A leashed dog approaches. The curious canine stops and eavesdrops on the conversation. The dog barks. All three concur, nodding in approval. Did something weird just happen? Sheer luck, the test worked.
In a far corner of the park on another bench, a man is sound asleep. Just for kicks, attempt the second, ripped-off pocket prototype. There’s a dream-capture mode setting. Hit start. Proceed carefully, hidden in the shadows, prophets of doom will spy on you professing dark omens.
Hold on now. Travel deep inside a subterranean wonderland. Tunnel through thick walls of sparkling salt and stone headed towards the middle of Earth. In the center of everything, there’s a hidden zone, an internal biosphere. A door swings open, a pastoral landscape greets us. Heavenly clouds shimmer. Off in the distance, miles of green meadows are bathed in warm light. Here we find the mythical Rainbow Bridge. This is unbelievable. An emotional radar detects magical transitions. The mind triggers a flood of memories. This has never happened before. Peace appears within reach. A chorus of bells rings out, choir boys’ hosannas hit the highest of notes. Daydreaming alone cannot describe the surge of feelings we felt.
The unexpected happens, loved ones from the past appear. Drawing closer, we look straight into familiar wanting eyes. Waiting to welcome us, every beloved pet we’ve ever had has gathered. With open arms, we’re greeted by barking hellos, wagging tails and felines meowing. We give them soft furry, chinny chin rubs. Overwhelmed with so much joy, tears flow down our cheeks. Chirping canaries and parakeets fly through the sky. Saltwater fish swam in circles. Humbled, tall gates open. Together we stroll through a forest setting with our special ones once again.
Return to surface. When the doom prophets talked about such revolutionary events, they naturally referred to the shadowy side. Visualize modern day fright on an empty highway at dusk. Miles of abandoned gas stations with charred trees growing between telephone poles. Rays of light filter through “No Trespassing” signs riddled with bullet holes. On the horizon, twilight’s oranges and reds, with a mile-high, stack of threatening thunderstorm clouds. Nuanced lightning strikes illuminate gigantic, scary Disney cartoon-shaped outlines.
Paddling through thought waves, hit stop. Instructions say: change project subject and date, insert doppelganger, use genetically modified clone’s cerebral subtext, just like a science fiction television series. I felt stupid and should’ve seen this coming but didn’t.
Weeks beforehand, strange things started to happen. Pandemonium. We faced shocking discoveries; vast destruction the results of shifting political attacks. After the sun disappears, keep all doors locked. Rowdy misfit boys skated around abandoned residential buildings. On desolate moonlit streets, forgotten runaway teens searched for hiding places. Screams and sirens lasted all night. In the morning foggy haze, fleeing princesses vanished.
Once again, reasoning seemed lost. Feeling dizzy, this new low in intelligence meant increased scrutiny as authorities shuttered all social media. Trauma was increased by exposure to synthetic sprays and chemical toxins. Trespass on a demolition site. Cousin Lee was there. Take my hand. Explore the ruins of a famous hotel. Lee always wore red boots. We enjoyed spring walks together along treelined streams.
In a partially destroyed lobby section, an early Donald Baechler canvas looks on, hanging next to a large painting of a white horse. Underneath the artwork, onetime junkie, thief and street hustler Herbert Huncke sat by himself in big comfortable chair. He had the appearance of a little old lady.
“Hello, how are you?” we said.
Herbert replied, “Fine. How are you doing?”
“Good. Are you waiting for someone?”
“No... not really.” Herbert replied.
These times impacted our lives.
We’ve arrived at a postmortem review bringing us full circle. For greedy and paranoid employers, there’s no loss or regret. Everything is damaged. Concluding on a somewhat pessimistic note, a fish rose to an aquarium’s surface. Attempting to survive, struggling for oxygen, we’re intrigued by the last show guppy.