Ray’s cannibal city is almost certainly the projected construct of a victim mentality.
It seems Ray’s escape with Caylee was to play the victim with her, safe from every unpleasantness wrought by their everyday high school world.
I am positively inspired with anticipation to see how my Method serves to delicately uncover exactly who or what Ray’s cannibals represent.
I should clarify that I do not consider Ray to be delusional.
I do not believe he truly holds to a literal population of cannibals who evolved from eating humans outright to…
Well, perhaps the end result had been left rather deliberately unclear.
Each Outlier has a unique way of overtly masking, while simultaneously covertly expressing, their true feelings and perceptions.
What do I mean by that?
If you were to question a sad Normal, you could probably get them to land at something close enough to: “I’m sad because…”
With an Outlier, you might only succeed in guiding them to circle such adjunctions as: “It doesn’t seem fair that so-and-so [group] can cause such-and-such [injustice, etc.].”
If Normals know reality and their experience directly, Outliers are ever fixed at some peculiar distance from it.
Yet it is in measuring and comparing my various Outliers’ specific projections that I am able both to deliver those Outliers to their Sticking or Breaking Points and begin to distinguish my Normals from one another.
In short, my Method functions like geometry.
I am made aware of intervals and angles between individuals, which enables me to better understand each and many all at once.
Though you surely do not share my particular irregularity when it comes to client (or human) identification, the geometric insight you gain from employing my Method will no doubt prove invaluable in connecting and categorizing your clients to serve them more efficiently.
First and foremost, I cannot overstate the importance that there is no need whatsoever for me to bring each fantastic detail of Ray’s outlandish tale into question.
Rather, Ray’s cannibals and cities will dissolve on their own to whatever underlying realities get brought to light and shown back ever more objectively.
For now, note my soft return to my same initial questions.
ME:
“So then who did you say you saw killed?
“And who killed that person?”
Ray said nothing for a moment.
Both he and his expression remained as still as empty space.
He then gestured toward my iun at the edge of the desk.
I handed him the device, intrigued, and watched as he clicked through to bring up a video of a hefty, well-dressed man, mid-pace across a beautiful stage.
As soon as Ray thumbed the triangular PLAY button, I immediately discerned the large, dapper man to be some sort of religious leader preaching to an expansive, boisterous crowd.
Though I heard but a snippet of the preacher’s eloquent ramping about success first requiring many failures and rejections, I remember thinking I could see myself quite comfortably thriving in such a role, perhaps in another life—as another application of my same Method—delivering polished peptalks in splendid time to an eager crowd.
There would, of course, be substantially more money in doing that.
Ray spoke as he tapped the square STOP button center screen.
RAY:
“I saw Friendship.”
ME:
“Friendship?”
RAY:
“Yeah, Friendship was very, very happy.”
ME:
“Help me understand.”
RAY:
“Well, I mean, I watched Friendship build The Church, and everything else like it, out of stones, one at a time. And the stones were people. I saw their faces when they were being set together into walls. And in The Church, I saw The Pastor too, smiling, watching and encouraging Friendship along in its happy work. It was . . . the way they looked at each other . . . Friendship and The Pastor . . . it was beautiful. Like, so much was said without words, y’know? Because . . . well, they both just knew.”
ME:
“Was this your pastor when you worked for the church?”
RAY:
“This would have still been way long ago, back before the cities became The City. But Friendship looked so dignified working to cement those people together . . . all the families and their friends. And in The Church, I heard The Pastor say things then like, ‘Most all are won by loved ones.’ And the living stones knew it was true.”
ME:
“Was there . . . pressure in your church to invite new people?”
I hated using the word “pressure,” but was unable to think of a better term in time to frame my thought.
RAY:
“No, Friendship worked slowly and quietly . . . lovingly . . . for years. And The Pastor was a great man; everyone knew, even outside The Church. You could just tell . . . I mean, hearing him speak each week to all the people in his walls, giving them everything he had.”
ME:
“The Pastor ‘was’ great, or ‘is’?
“I get the impression something changed?
“How does the city fit in?
“And what happened to friendship?”
Note my intentional use of Ray’s own terms; this was to assure him that I would not be challenging his perspective as I drew out more information for my Method to unravel.
He hesitated, his eyes still fixed forever away, staring straight through me and every distance beyond.
RAY:
“I don’t… I’m not sure. I don’t want to…”
I immediately sought to further relax my posture and expression, falling back into Faum’s until I felt as serene as I hoped to appear.
I could not allow Ray to retreat at that moment.
I also could not afford to come across as pushy or deceptive in my directing of the conversation.
ME:
“It’s okay.
“Can I be honest?”
RAY:
“Yes.”
ME:
“I feel as though I’m listening to you tell me about a fascinating dream you had.
“Maybe it’s a dream that means something to you.
“But I’m not too worried about that yet, because I’m sure we’ll get there if we need to.
“For now, I’m only interested in hearing more, whatever you’d like to share.
“I promise not to take anything you say as being against your church or pastor, or anything like that.”
Such a transparent outlaying of my true cards and colors in expressing my aim to eventually reach any hidden points of significance was intended as a peace offering or sign of respect to help nullify Ray’s niggling concerns.
RAY:
“Good. Yeah, I don’t have anything bad to say about him or anyone there. Not at all. If I sound negative, I’m sure I’m saying it wrong, y’know? But it was really just something that happened when I saw The City come together and form itself all around The Church. It wasn’t… I mean, well . . . I should have said this part first . . . but there were all kinds of beautiful things happening in that little cannibal town. Then in the cities. And it had everything to do with the killing and eating, if that makes sense.”
ME:
“The eating was beautiful?
“Was it because of the symbol—the gleam in everyone’s eyes as they ate?”
RAY:
“How can I put it? It’s like there’s this special kind of sweetness when you’re part of the smaller group, the ones being captured and killed by everyone else. You share, like, a certain bond in going through it together . . . like maybe an understanding of how fragile life can be. But even cruel things, like all those horrible deals happening in the cities . . . they’re really no one’s fault. It’s just the way it’s always been. The big and strong kill and eat the small and weak because everyone thinks that’s how things are supposed to be.”
ME:
“What changed in the church?”
RAY:
“I don’t want to say.”
ME:
“That’s fine.”
RAY:
“Well, now if I don’t say it, you’ll probably think it’s something much worse than… It was nothing.”
ME:
“Whatever you want to tell me is fine.
“I won’t hold anything you say or don’t say against you or anyone else.
“I won’t assume anything.”
RAY:
“Well, it’s that… Okay, it’s just sort of how life changes as time goes on. So, imagine you start off young and full of passion for . . . for something big you want to do in the world. And all you have is this genuine desire . . . this fire . . . deep inside. And your reasons come from . . . from somewhere personal, and spiritual, and… But when you grow up in The City . . . or, when The City grows itself up around you . . . it’s like you end up somewhere very different, maybe, from where you thought you’d be back when it was just you and that burning dream. The way you see things in The City always has to shift . . . outward . . . as you go, I guess. So, again, you set out to do something good. It’s something you know could help a lot of people. I’m sure you can imagine something like a church that’s small, and connected, and loving, and . . . and afraid of that big, scary world outside you know could stomp you out at any time. But if you don’t get stomped out, then one day you… It’s like everything turns practical, y’know? And then you’re looking at the difference you can make as part of that bigger world instead of being knit together in simple love for fear of that world. That’s how dreams come true in The City. But it’s not bad. And it’s no one’s fault. No one meant for anyone to get hurt. Of course not.”
ME:
“Who got hurt?”
RAY:
“Well, right before The City became… I mean, right when people stopped being actually eaten, I saw Friendship standing still for the first time. It was the weirdest thing ever . . . sort of like seeing someone who’s just lost their job staring at their work as it continues now without them. And I watched that eternal smile fade to…
“But wait… I don’t think I made this part clear enough yet, and you have to understand: Before The City, Friendship wasn’t only in The Church. That’s just mostly where I saw… I mean, maybe it’s like The Church was the perfect place to see Friendship at work. But Friendship was everywhere, bringing all the small and weak together as stones to be set in different walls.
“So, what happened in The City was New Cannibalism replaced Friendship with something else.”
ME:
“New cannibalism is people still being bought and sold by the powerful, though no longer literally eaten?
“Is that correct?”
RAY:
“Well, really, it all has to do with the symbol. Again, everyone since the early days loved their town symbol. But to be put somewhere by Friendship meant loving your symbol in . . . in a different way. It meant it was time for you to play the part of the outsider. And when you were an outsider, you and everyone with you in your wall had a whole new view on life, like I said. But then in a world with no outsiders, it was those sorts of connections that couldn’t… Yeah, that’s when Friendship got replaced by another, called Advertising. But Advertising didn’t just highlight part of the symbol. Advertising was the symbol, now lit up and made alive to be shown everywhere, all the time, on every screen. And Advertising had only one goal from the beginning: to celebrate New Cannibalism . . . to make everyone on every level proud to be part of their City.”
ME:
“What happened in the church once advertising took over?”
RAY:
“So, for anything like The Church that became successful in The City, its walls of living stones built by Friendship got broken down. That’s so the whole thing could be put back together and keep growing, but much faster than before. You see, Advertising doesn’t connect the stones in the same personal, individual way Friendship did. Instead, everyone gets arranged by their levels in The City, whether strong and powerful or poor and weak. And as I watched more and more come to be made part of The Church’s walls, I heard The Pastor shift to saying things like, ‘We must become all things to all men in order to win some.’”
ME:
“So it was advertising that convinced the pastor to build his church that way?”
RAY:
“No, not at all. And it’s not that it was a . . . mistake. Man, I’m sure I’m saying this all wrong. I mean, it’s definitely not like The Pastor wanted power, or wanted to hurt anyone. He just saw what The Church’s place in The City would have to be going forward. And it’s like his focus shifted outward to something . . . measurable . . . the same as with anyone building anything in The City.”
Ray was evidently endeavoring to avoid the true nature and felt cause of his frustrations, circling ever back to hover about varying degrees of “just how things were.”
I would have to approach his complaint carefully, employing non-leading questions that could work indirectly to uncover and underscore perceived abuses.
ME:
“But if friendship was already causing the church to grow naturally, with people bringing their families and friends, then why would that have to change in the city?
“That’s the part I’m having trouble understanding.
“Why take apart the whole structure and adopt advertising?”
Ray smiled, though it somehow seemed a tad too contrived.
His tranquil eyes appeared to glow with shadow undertones forged by what I supposed to be years of perpetual disgruntlement.
RAY:
“It’s ironic. Sorry, it’s perfect. You asked the perfect question, because everything I said leads up to it, y’know? It all leads up to now, and now everything’s changing again. Advertising for New Cannibalism in The City is… Okay, I’ll say it this way: Friendship and Advertising might be so different . . . so completely opposite . . . they almost look like twins. But… Well, Advertising only shows the few who actually make it in The City. And it also carefully hides the fact of how many unseen lives get used up just so those few can always be seen enjoying what everyone’s supposed to want. Yeah, once The City formed, and Friendship was replaced, The Pastor also started saying to the people in his walls things like, ‘Friends in the Lord are closer than brothers.’ But that’s not quite the irony I’m trying to… I don’t…”
ME:
“So friendship wouldn’t have worked for the church once the church was part of the city?”
RAY:
“No… I mean, yes… I mean, that’s the change I’m talking about. That’s what everything’s been leading up to. So, imagine Friendship brings you just the right people . . . the ones you know your dream can help. It’s slow, but . . . but still, you start to get excited. Things are really happening. Then, all of a sudden, you’re part of The City, and it’s like everything speeds up. You dig down, searching for the . . . for that same fire that pushed you out to go help people and make a difference in the first place. But all you find is just this uneasy feeling, like you know something’s gonna have to change so you can keep things alive and growing at the same pace and scale. That’s where we come to now. It’s fear. It’s always been fear. It’s the same fear that colors everything made, shown, or said, everywhere in The City. The symbol . . . that smile . . . could there be a more perfect emblem for what once convinced a town to eat anyone called an outsider and now convinces everyone New Cannibalism is worth living and dying for? But New Cannibalism should make the irony so much more obvious. I mean, some burnt smudge in wood gets blown up into the same picture shown over and over, and… And fear of not having enough gets reimagined back to you as fear of losing some good thing . . . some ideal . . . that’s supposed to be worth going after more than anything else. And if most people have to die to keep that smile . . . that gleam . . . alive, well…”
I waited a moment until it was clear Ray would not complete his thought.
ME:
“I guess I don’t see the irony there.
“Or maybe I’m confused…”
Ray then flicked my iun screen off and gingerly set it down.
RAY:
“Sorry, I was saying how Advertising and Friendship are, like, mirror images of each other. But the difference is Friendship could have worked without the symbol . . . without any fear of being eaten or used up . . . to still bring everyone together where they naturally fit. And Friendship always worked for free. But Advertising costs everything. And now, when I see things like this iun, it’s like I’m watching The City’s whole economy get pressed harder and harder against itself, with Advertising fighting so desperately, y’know, to take up every single new screen. That’s the irony, I guess. That’s what it really is. I mean, all The City’s money still goes to Advertising, right? But paying everything for everyone’s fear of lack to be spun into love for . . . well, for watching those few who can appear to lack nothing . . . that could only make any sense back when Advertising owned all the screens. Now no amount of money would… But it’s no one’s fault. And . . . and really, I think it’s okay. Friendship never left. That’s important to know. I guess . . . well, just picture standing quietly and watching from a distance as more and more wealth gets blown on doing a job you got fired from for political reasons, but now you know you’ve got what it takes to do it for free way better and faster than the new guy. It might make you start to smile again, even if you still felt kind of sad. That’s all.”
Ray continued to stare at my iun in silence.
My current assessment: Ray’s role in the church had likely been limited by the allocation of significant resources and attention to new technologies for impersonal automation intended to replace what had been his free, human work of connecting with individuals one at a time.
Or maybe Ray had simply been frustrated by his own lack of advancement within the church.
Being so strange and nuanced tends to render many Outliers far too unpredictable for promotion within fixed hierarchies.
ME:
“Ray, will you tell me about your experience in the church?
“Who did you see being hurt or killed by the powerful because of new cannibalism in the city?”
I don't know anything 