Industrial Society and Its Future
Marcy Pendergrass was putting up the Fourth of July decorations. The one hot girl in the office.
She made no small talk. Her heart not in it. The CEO gave a speech, remotely. You may have read about merger talks. Nothing has been determined. As you know in this competitive landscape we can and must do more with less. In the coming weeks, departments may be evaluated. I expect with your competitive drive and your love for a challenge we’ll emerge from this process stronger than before. Applause over the conference room speaker phone.
The summer after freshman year of college he worked nights in a candle factory. They’d fire you for going near the trash. If they let you take broken candles you might break candles you wanted. He worked the shipping line. It was called Plymouth Rock Candle but they barely made anything there. Just assembled it. Product came from overseas. You’d open a crate and an oxblood color bug the size of a men’s loafer would crawl out dying. Second shift once startled a cobra sleeping in a case of votive holders shaped like Christ. The candles were sold by women at parties. They were a loss leader. Revenue came from selling women the idea of selling candles to friends and neighbors. Seminars and training materials. The women sold women who sold women and so on.
The shipping warehouse was biblical. A million cubits high. So big there was haze in the distance. He was a temp. Third shift was an experiment. Keep working 24 hours. 9PM to 5AM he stuck UPS labels on boxes packed with Yankee Bayberry Everflame™ Jar Style his coworkers picked from scaffolding racks that leaned over and gave you vertigo. You could feel the electricity that ran the conveyor belt in the nerves of your arms. Next to him a man pulled a lever over and over that dropped styrofoam peanuts from a hanging bag the size of a high school gym. Labels were a cake job except one or two hours a night, when a guy up the line screamed CANADA and you had to start reading the tiny address as the box rushed by. Three provinces need an extra sticker. Housewives sell each other candles in places like Yellowknife where babies die from blackflies. If he fucked up and forgot the sticker one more time one of the guys on truck said he’d kill him. He’d done 20 years for murder. Six dollars an hour.
One night Mark, the manager, called the whole warehouse to sit in a circle. They’d succeeded. So productive the company made third shift permanent. As such half of you will be let go in four weeks. Anyone talking about layoffs will be fired immediately. I know this is hard news. Also, second shift packed 5,000 unicorn votive stands with no bubble wrap. This product is genuine glass. Before we start on quota we’ll take them out and repack.
Violins began to play. Management chose an adult contemporary mix. Annie Lennox’s “No More I Love Yous” four times per night. Mark was watching as they scotch taped bubble wrap on the smiling cartoon unicorns and they couldn’t talk about getting fired. On break he’d told the foam peanut man he was taking Amtrak to Long Island. Visiting a girl from school. They’d taken acid together. Their souls were intertwined. They’d get married. Someone had to say something while Annie Lennox overenunciated IN SI-LENCE so the peanut man said: hey. Did you know this guy has to go 200 miles to meet a girl. Mister New York here.
Surprised it’s not the fuckin moon, said the convict.
They made fun of him all night. But he thought about her hair. Felt hope. After the layoff he moved his trip earlier. Couldn’t wait. When he got off the train she introduced her new boyfriend.
This time he was safe. Larry, Vice President, Global Sales, overheard him talk about telemarketing. So you have cold calling experience. They moved him up to sales. He took a girl to dinner to celebrate. She got a direct deposit every month for an old man to watch her take a bath, then half fuck her with a bunched up condom on. The amount was ten times his raise. The client’s money came from an instrumental role in developing the USB adapter. Half the time his dick felt like it went in upside down. On sales calls the voices felt like cigarette burns on his neck.
The office nervous. But not him. Now he was revenue, not cost, plus he planned to steal key data on government officials from the company’s database. Give it to terrorists. Marcy’s summer dress was white and her panties were striped like a candy cane. When she reached high to hang tiny American flags she showed 36 hours of armpit stubble. His mind became two micrometers tall and he wandered among the fat cut hairs like in a forest, feasting on her smell. He wanted to say don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid to lose something we all hate. Why could I never speak to a girl like this. We’re both just mammals. How am I so beneath her.
Are you doing OK, he said. And she said: we’re not supposed to talk about it.
Larry left his office unlocked over lunch every day. Laptop open. He was afraid if he let his computer sleep Windows would install a software update, while he was presenting. He stuck in the USB drive. It was upside down. Had to take it out, flip it, push it back in hard before the laptop fan started whining. As instructed he left it in for a minute and then pulled it back out. Only one more step to go.
Red Dawn
The new bomb punched a hole in the sky. Over the fireball the black cloud ceiling of seething H. R. Giger demon intestines broke open. You could see blue. The blast was up high. Miles and miles East. The sound came half a minute later with heat like a blow dryer too close to your neck. Then quiet. They’d come out of the tent barefoot in the mud, lower halves naked in the cool wet air, peering over the cinder block fence and squinting. Is it safe to look, she said.
If it wasn’t, we’re already fucked.
Will there be radiation?
I don’t think we can do anything. If we’re gonna die we’re gonna die. How do you feel?