ME:
“So, was there anyone at the church you actually saw eye to eye with?
“Anyone you could really be yourself around?”
RAY:
“Well, there was one guy on staff. He was funny. But I was never able to talk with him that much, no. I mean, we talked a lot, but I couldn’t say what I would have wanted to.”
ME:
“What do you mean?
“What would you have wanted to tell him?
“And why couldn’t you?”
RAY:
“I guess, looking back, it’s like we both seemed out of place there, but in . . . like, in very different ways. I admired him . . . always . . . since he never hid what he was thinking, even though it was different from what The Pastor said and . . . and, y’know, different from the way The Church was going.”
ME:
“What would you have wanted to say?”
RAY:
“Just to tell him I thought there’d be a lot of people out there that might get something good from listening to him. He was way better than me at… But it’s tough, since whatever wasn’t New Cannibalism, or . . . or anything outside The Pastor’s story about the other world . . . like I said, was automatically seen as wrong or evil.”
Notice how I will no longer hesitate to quell or bypass all fantasy talk immediately, bringing our focus back to only the tangibly experiential.
ME:
“So, you would have encouraged him to do something like your secret recordings?”
RAY:
“I just… He knew so much, and could speak really well.”
ME:
“How do you suppose he saw you?”
RAY:
“Sketchy. Not quite together, mentally. Maybe like a leaf being blown along in the wind.”
ME:
“What exactly did he say or do to make you think that?”
RAY:
“Well, Winnie the Pooh is a toy.”
ME:
“What does that mean, ‘Winnie the Pooh is a toy’?
“Why is that relevant now?”
RAY:
“I guess it’s sort of . . . like, it’s hard to float a certain way, y’know? But then floating works real well when you’re at the right place and time. That’s all.”
ME:
“How did your friend see the church?
“How did he see the city?”
RAY:
“He had these, I think, libertarian views on politics. Anyway, all he said about The Church was the focus shouldn’t be so much on stories and ideas, but more on helping people in . . . in more practical ways.”
ME:
“Are you a Libertarian?”
Ray said nothing, obviously unsure how to answer.
I was not surprised in the least by his confusion.
All known aspects of Ray’s worldview are essentially an amalgamation of vague, unconscious reactions to realities filtered entirely through his unique framework of nebulous Outlier symbols and representations.
I was about to press him—to keep him moving—but he responded on his own before I could.
RAY:
“What’s the opposite of moderate again?”
Now, this question did surprise me.
Savior complex Outliers have a knack for fixing their own sets of idiosyncratic notions on ideals.
As such, they tend not to care in the least for standard conventions or definitions of terms.
Besides, answering elementary questions about politics seemed quite beneath my role and workings of my Method.
ME:
“If by moderate you mean centrist—in the middle—then the opposite would be one side or the other.
“The left or the right.”
RAY:
“Left or right?”
Flabbergasted by his sudden display of childlike ignorance, I attempted to respond as simply as I could, outlining the basic differences between the political left and right.
RAY:
“But it’s only Advertising that makes those two sides what they… I mean…”
At this point, Ray began to stare once more at my iun at the edge of my desk as if expecting it to interrupt at any moment.
I was about to ask for clarification, but he continued (again) without any prompting.
RAY:
“Anyway, I think that guy I worked with would have been surprised to know all the things I agreed with him on. I wish I could have told him.”
ME:
“So, what would you want to tell the church now?”
I watched as a tinge of emotion swept across his placid face like a misplaced tidal flush.
RAY:
“Oh Church… I just want to tell everyone there how much I love them.”
I failed to catch myself before leaping to my next questions, unfortunately leaving my phrasing open enough to invite a fresh influx of fantasy in response.
ME:
“What would you say to the church as an institution, though, rather than to individuals?
“What would you say about their political position or power?”
RAY:
“It’s like the fog and Lie from fear . . . from fear of not having enough . . . they make The Church see a sort of massive conspiracy in The City to keep them down . . . to keep them from power, I guess. But it’s the same with every other empire too. I mean, New Cannibalism puts everyone against everyone else, right? And so the many small are killed and used up while the few get big and rise to the top. But yeah, since The Church keeps growing and growing, the only way they can keep their same conspiracy going . . . to still see themselves as low and powerless . . . is to believe and teach that most who come and join aren’t really true believers. And that’s kind of what everyone there ends up most afraid of. I mean, it goes with what I was saying before: Since Advertising shows only The Church’s most beautiful leaders up on those huge screens week after week, all the rest are left to feel their impossible distance from what they’re always shown. And I heard it every day working there . . . in calls and letters from hurting believers, each fully convinced their troubles were, like, proof they didn’t believe enough, or not the right way or something. But it’s all New Cannibalism. Advertising divides The Church into levels of belief, just like everyone in The City gets divided into levels of usefulness. And I do agree with my friend about showing love in more practical ways. But I don’t think that can happen before Advertising and New Cannibalism are gone . . . before the fog completely lifts.”
ME:
“From what I know of Christianity, isn’t that the whole point of the Jesus message?
“It’s all about love and forgiveness, correct?”
Ray shuddered like a leafy branch caught in a sudden gust of wind.
Still peering at my iun, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.
RAY:
“I . . . I really don’t know the answer. I hope that’s something we might, um… But yeah, of course, to . . . to try and show love no matter what, that’s…”
ME:
“Okay, so what does that conspiracy look like outside the church?
“Is advertising used to convince those of other empires they don’t actually fit where they are either?”
Not once did his gaze leave my iun.
RAY:
“I think it’s always the same Lie, y’know? Like, Advertising can show everything as ‘good guys and bad guys,’ ‘us and them,’ ‘true believers and false,’ or ‘left and right’ . . . but it’s all just to keep everyone thinking New Cannibalism is the only way to… I mean, no matter how Advertising might make things look, New Cannibalism isn’t really ever for one side or the other. Of course each empire builds or brings something different in The City. Each has its focus . . . its goals and culture . . . the good reasons it came together in the first place. And Advertising can keep trying to show things as being so bad that . . . that everyone needs to keep fighting everyone else to… But it’s New Cannibalism that needs it to be bad. Really, who’s it bad for? Nothing changes for the slaves. It’s only the rulers that…”
He paused, still staring as though longing for my iun, itself, to speak.
ME:
“You’ve hinted a few times at how you see things beginning to change.
“Let’s quickly dig a little into that.”
RAY:
“No, I don’t… I mean, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
ME:
“Ray, I’m not asking you to predict the future.
“I do feel it will be helpful for you to share whatever sense you have of how you see things going.”
There was a moment of what must have been acute hesitation, then relinquishment.
RAY:
“As the fog goes, it’s The City’s rulers that watch what they’ve always fought for disappear. But what the slaves see more and more is how they’ve only ever been bought and sold by a string of rising and falling empires, all the same. Whatever any empire comes together to do . . . whether it’s bringing something basic for survival, some new invention, a service everyone needs, an experience . . . even a voice to speak up for what any group or individual might need or deserve . . . the fight Advertising always puts everything into selling is only ever really for meaningless, valueless things like deeds, titles, capital, or rights to symbols . . . things that can’t actually last or matter without what Advertising works so hard to keep everyone convinced of. So, I guess it’s like the slaves finally start to see the way all The City’s power moves like water from tank to tank . . . but how each tank is really only… And the water gets stale. And the tanks erupt, one by one. And how can empires go on building themselves then? At first, the rulers try to reduce and keep things going, cutting down and selling off whatever they can to keep their positions steady as long as possible. And yeah, everything gets put back into more Advertising to keep the slaves afraid and useful, like always. But the difference now . . . the change . . . is the slaves are seeing all this happening . . . even if they don’t… I mean, it’s when the slaves can’t ignore Advertising that they don’t look at it anymore. Not really. It doesn’t matter how much gets spent to… Okay, what happens when all the wealth and credit to have ever run through and held The City together aren’t enough to buy the slaves’ attention for even another moment more? What could they see instead, then, except…?”
Ray continued to stare, entranced by the blank screen of my iun.
I knew I had let him carry on for far too long again, wastefully allowing the first half of today’s session to be submerged beneath his rolling sets of graphic symbolisms.
Yet I must admit I had become quite transfixed as his words poured forth, with literal chills cascading up and down my spine.
At times, Ray seems to switch from his laughable derelict-on-a-street-corner role to indirectly describing my exact position and concerns (of course without realizing).
Though unnerving, I still hold that such connections give me a superb advantage at this late stage in the game when it comes to uncovering the true desires and values hidden beneath his protective Outlier narrative gloss.
How did Ray’s thoughts on politics tie to my own personal world?
Well, my business is certainly fast becoming a fight to hold the wind—to create material substance from something ever slipping from my grasp.
I would say, however, that technology (iuns) only exacerbates the problem—an opinion I suspect Ray would sharply disagree with.
As of now, I find myself scrambling to keep clients as I read of iuns being mere days from having the capacity to offer therapy for free.
I am sure those of other professions have similar concerns.
I began our session today committed to catching a deeper glimpse of the real Ray at all costs.
I now felt defensive, as though a secret piece of my own perspective had been brought to light and challenged inadvertently.
I jotted:
My priorities. My philosophy of business. Selling my intellectual property. The value of my Method.
A question to possibly come back to: Ray spoke of slaves becoming aware of themselves and social dynamics, and then society changing drastically as a result; but how could powerless Normals “seeing” anything bring about a reversal of widespread conflict and corruption?
Was that part just idealistic Outlier drivel stuffed in alongside Ray’s few seemingly accurate (though woefully misinterpreted) observations?
Something about the conversation did cause me to recall a degree of compassion I had once felt for all my clients.
It seems I have gotten far too comfortable casually breaking into people’s worlds, carelessly holding their very fates in my shaky, distracted hands—fates I often cannot tell apart.
What I do is indeed quite a lofty responsibility.
So, I should probably charge more?
Anyway, I kept silent for a moment and refocused with increased urgency on my commitment to keep from getting derailed again from only the real details of Ray’s actual experience.
I don't know anything 