That time had come again. I hated it worse than my father's disapproving eyes when I talked of my work. No matter of my station, I could not avoid these meetings. Such is the price of power. The best I could hope was to limit the length of my suffering to a bare minimum but it would be a battle.
I had wild thoughts that I could barely keep at bay. I imagined myself standing and declaring, "this meeting is adjourned." Instead of rising, I grabbed my glass of water and focused on its liquids' surface tension. If only I could dive into the water, float on the surface and let the water draw the aches from my back. I took a sip, letting the fluid seep into my tongue as if this token gesture of relaxation might be conveyed to my back. The peristaltic wave brought some relief down my spine but I hid my momentary pleasure by burying my eyes in my notes.
I scanned the three men before me. Each met my gaze and wordlessly gave off a calm confidence which said, "I'm ready, when you are". These men were well trained in word-to-word combat, discoursive tactics, and parasocial behaviour. Their non-aggressive posture appeared as natural as their practiced comradarie--nothing could have been further from reality. These men were the government's best of the best. I needed to be on my toes not struggling to control my thoughts. My hope was that they had misjudged my slight lapse as a feign of weakness to provoke one of them to attack and be ambushed. At least for now, these wolves were at a distance.
"Let us begin with the report from the department of dismission & distraction." With that, I played the opening move of the game.
A lithe exacting man stood. His name was Eliot Eversite. With confidence and grace, he made the most of dispelling the worries that his department's budget was completely out of proportion with it's impact steering the public. In fact, he demonstrated that at most 2.5% of the population even believed that his department existed. His charts and formulas were seamlessly integrated into his melodic recount of the months activities. All of the relevant details were present but artfully occluded with dazzling and intriguing anecdotes.
I decided to try a double feign of interested-apathy. But he countered with empathetic-disengagement. That confirmed my suspicion that he was fishing for a budget increase. It was shaping up to be a perilous disclosure.
I side-stepped his disengagement with thoughtful-neglect and opened up a faux-dialectic with the others about Dismission & Distraction's report. It was a good stop-gap but it micro-elevated the other's positions. I was gambling that Dismission & Distraction's endgame would be marginally more effective than the others. It was a risk I needed to take after my disastrous opening.
After a few superficially polite inquiries, Dismission & Distraction sat with oppressive appeasement. Twisting my glass of water in musing manner, I elected to hear from the department of Discouragement & Derision next.
Discouragement & Derision was the often thought to be the most powerful of our departments because it was the most conspicuous. But this made it our least respected arm of government. My selection of his department second was a show of strength or second-order guile; my underlings would be processing and probing to unravel that for a while. We were well trained in articulated ambiguity so I needed to keep this meeting rolling so that they would be too occupied scoring political points to see through to my objectives.
The stalwart head of this department, Steve Steader, drew up his imposing height. Impassively he recounted each of his ongoing projects and initiatives to impede political thoughts or endeavours by all potentially disruptive factions. The bait & expose initiative that had numerous fake semi-political groups that attracted would-be political activists and then publicly destroy all credibility of those ensnared. The idiot-of-the-day blog although simplistic still was an effective deterrent to many who thought about discussing or contemplating politics.
After I gave a non-negative acceptance of the report without discussion, the others would be on edge. It was a sign of both demotion and support. I had to opt for delayed lightning resolution--the higher stakes may force a late game dodge retreat-thrust. This straight forward mixed messaging would dangle under their chins big gains in prestige.
Disillusionment & Disempowerment selected a wounded smile opener. Philip Fowler always knew a precise way to attack every situation. He never had lost an millimeter in overt valed debates. By leaving him last, he had an huge advantage over the others being able to read every nuance and to know faux thrusts from false feigns. Most of the population was too busy being distracted, dimissed, discouraged, and derided, to get to the stage to require disillusionment or disempowering but this is exactly why so much energy was needed to target this potential dangerous quarter of percentage of the population--they could possibly become very disruptive. Philip seemed to have found incredible methods for finding and subtlely siphoning off the spirit and initiatives of those caught in his web. Underneath the bewildered-smugness of minister Steader and the fascinated lost-in-thought of minister Eversite, it was clear that they knew it was going to be a tough day to break even.
The near power vacuum at the end of Disillusionment and Disempowerment's oration left me few options. Instead of the typical reactive storm of minutia or a deluge of decisions deflowering all pregnant conceits, I pulled deep from my improvisational core and followed a hunch--authoritative-abdication.
It was clear none of the ministers had planned for this contingency. A few failed forays highlighted this unexpected turn of events. The balancing of the ministers positions had artfully left them in an unplanned meeting of peers rather than faux sensei-senpai jockeying. Just before they regained their situation sense, I pulled a classic rescue d'etat and adjourned the meeting.
I finished my water thanking the minsters for an informative disclosure. Timing will always be tantamount to every discursive tournament. I survived another round. Although the political points would still need to be tallied. I appeared to have faired well. But next time, they would be more prepared. They could smell blood.
I had wild thoughts that I could barely keep at bay. I imagined myself standing and declaring, "this meeting is adjourned." Instead of rising, I grabbed my glass of water and focused on its liquids' surface tension. If only I could dive into the water, float on the surface and let the water draw the aches from my back. I took a sip, letting the fluid seep into my tongue as if this token gesture of relaxation might be conveyed to my back. The peristaltic wave brought some relief down my spine but I hid my momentary pleasure by burying my eyes in my notes.
I scanned the three men before me. Each met my gaze and wordlessly gave off a calm confidence which said, "I'm ready, when you are". These men were well trained in word-to-word combat, discoursive tactics, and parasocial behaviour. Their non-aggressive posture appeared as natural as their practiced comradarie--nothing could have been further from reality. These men were the government's best of the best. I needed to be on my toes not struggling to control my thoughts. My hope was that they had misjudged my slight lapse as a feign of weakness to provoke one of them to attack and be ambushed. At least for now, these wolves were at a distance.
"Let us begin with the report from the department of dismission & distraction." With that, I played the opening move of the game.
A lithe exacting man stood. His name was Eliot Eversite. With confidence and grace, he made the most of dispelling the worries that his department's budget was completely out of proportion with it's impact steering the public. In fact, he demonstrated that at most 2.5% of the population even believed that his department existed. His charts and formulas were seamlessly integrated into his melodic recount of the months activities. All of the relevant details were present but artfully occluded with dazzling and intriguing anecdotes.
I decided to try a double feign of interested-apathy. But he countered with empathetic-disengagement. That confirmed my suspicion that he was fishing for a budget increase. It was shaping up to be a perilous disclosure.
I side-stepped his disengagement with thoughtful-neglect and opened up a faux-dialectic with the others about Dismission & Distraction's report. It was a good stop-gap but it micro-elevated the other's positions. I was gambling that Dismission & Distraction's endgame would be marginally more effective than the others. It was a risk I needed to take after my disastrous opening.
After a few superficially polite inquiries, Dismission & Distraction sat with oppressive appeasement. Twisting my glass of water in musing manner, I elected to hear from the department of Discouragement & Derision next.
Discouragement & Derision was the often thought to be the most powerful of our departments because it was the most conspicuous. But this made it our least respected arm of government. My selection of his department second was a show of strength or second-order guile; my underlings would be processing and probing to unravel that for a while. We were well trained in articulated ambiguity so I needed to keep this meeting rolling so that they would be too occupied scoring political points to see through to my objectives.
The stalwart head of this department, Steve Steader, drew up his imposing height. Impassively he recounted each of his ongoing projects and initiatives to impede political thoughts or endeavours by all potentially disruptive factions. The bait & expose initiative that had numerous fake semi-political groups that attracted would-be political activists and then publicly destroy all credibility of those ensnared. The idiot-of-the-day blog although simplistic still was an effective deterrent to many who thought about discussing or contemplating politics.
After I gave a non-negative acceptance of the report without discussion, the others would be on edge. It was a sign of both demotion and support. I had to opt for delayed lightning resolution--the higher stakes may force a late game dodge retreat-thrust. This straight forward mixed messaging would dangle under their chins big gains in prestige.
Disillusionment & Disempowerment selected a wounded smile opener. Philip Fowler always knew a precise way to attack every situation. He never had lost an millimeter in overt valed debates. By leaving him last, he had an huge advantage over the others being able to read every nuance and to know faux thrusts from false feigns. Most of the population was too busy being distracted, dimissed, discouraged, and derided, to get to the stage to require disillusionment or disempowering but this is exactly why so much energy was needed to target this potential dangerous quarter of percentage of the population--they could possibly become very disruptive. Philip seemed to have found incredible methods for finding and subtlely siphoning off the spirit and initiatives of those caught in his web. Underneath the bewildered-smugness of minister Steader and the fascinated lost-in-thought of minister Eversite, it was clear that they knew it was going to be a tough day to break even.
The near power vacuum at the end of Disillusionment and Disempowerment's oration left me few options. Instead of the typical reactive storm of minutia or a deluge of decisions deflowering all pregnant conceits, I pulled deep from my improvisational core and followed a hunch--authoritative-abdication.
It was clear none of the ministers had planned for this contingency. A few failed forays highlighted this unexpected turn of events. The balancing of the ministers positions had artfully left them in an unplanned meeting of peers rather than faux sensei-senpai jockeying. Just before they regained their situation sense, I pulled a classic rescue d'etat and adjourned the meeting.
I finished my water thanking the minsters for an informative disclosure. Timing will always be tantamount to every discursive tournament. I survived another round. Although the political points would still need to be tallied. I appeared to have faired well. But next time, they would be more prepared. They could smell blood.
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