Who is Jonathan Relevant?
The answer, so far, seemed always to be found in the eye of the beholder. In part, Jonathan Relevant was what they wanted to see. And that part was internalized so that his perceptions of himself altered according to the emotional needs of the other persons. Therefore it was he, himself, Jonathan Relevant, who was the most accurate yardstick for the feeling quotient of others.
Now, put to the test, the yardstick recorded peculiarly non-Relevant measurements. When G-for-George Pullman Porter came face to face with Jonathan Relevant, for instance, there was a notable lack of that rapport which had formerly existed between them. There was friendliness, and lack of aggression, but—
“Black and white together,” G. P. greeted Jonathan Relevant with the words.
“Right on, baby!” Jonathan Relevant replied with a clenched fist and a voice filled with Cleaver righteousness.
“Sure. Sure.” G. P. yawned.
“Up the Panthers!”
“Uh-huh.” G. P. agreed without conviction.
“Manhood for Gabriel!” Jonathan Relevant shouted. “Manhood for black men!”
“Oh, absolutely, man.” G. P. nodded. “But do you have to go screaming it out like that? You’re jarring my tranquillity.”
Jonathan Relevant stared at him, frustrated. There was nothing coming back. He didn’t feel black; he didn’t feel like Eldridge Cleaver; he just felt like basic Relevant-— and that left him feeling incomplete. The other person had to supply the missing components to the Relevant identity at any given moment, and G. P. Wasn’t helping.
Like G. P., Leander Pigbaigh lacked the emotion to round out the Jonathan Relevant picture of Jonathan Relevant. “Flowahs foah peace, Colonel.” He placed a garland around Jonathan Relevant’s neck.
“We mus’ be vig’lant!” Jonathan Relevant said tentatively.
“Flowah powah, Colonel. Flowah powah.”
“How ’bout the Red menace?” Jonathan Relevant tried desperately to make contact.
“Y’all too up-tight, Colonel. Relax an’ enjoy life.”
“But the Cee Ah Aih—”
“See what Ah mean, Colonel? Naow what yew wanna go talkin’ shop foah?” Leander Pigbaigh shook his head sadly and moved away from Jonathan Relevant.
Making contact with Ludmilla Skivar proved equally difficult. The hot-eyed Russian beauty simply clutched at Big Dick Eberhard and looked at Ivan Relevant blankly. "He is teaching me the American custom of bundling,” she informed Ivan Relevant, “and you are interrupting.”
“Comrade. Wouldn’t you like to make love?”
“Not particularly.”
"What about our plans. for returning to Mother Russia?" Ivan Relevant whispered to her.
“One place is as good as another.”
“Would you rather be with him than me?” Ivan Relevant tried jealousy.
“One man is the same as another. His body is warm. That is all that I require.” She turned her back on Ivan Relevant and snuggled up to Big Dick Eberhard.
A few moments later Jonathan Relevant was crossing the campus when a wire-service newsman stopped him.
“Say, Mac,” the reporter said, “there’s a rumor this Jonathan Relevant’s here someplace. You got any idea where I might find him?”
Jonathan Relevant felt no click of identity. The newsman wanted Jonathan Relevant, but he evidently didn’t want him enough to put him into focus. “No, I don’t,” Jonathan Relevant replied.
“Oh, well. I guess it doesn’t really matter.” The reporter looked through Jonathan Relevant without seeing him and wandered away.
This must be what ifs like not to be Jonathan Relevant!
Jonathan Relevant had a sudden flash of insight. This must be what it's like for most people, most of the time. No touching. Hazy identity. Not really being seen, or felt; not really seeing, or feeling. That’s what they mean by “alienation.” Everybody inside himself. And only half alive there without the part that has to come from outside himself. Awful! Just awful!
His thoughts were interrupted by a chance meeting with Chancellor Hardlign. “Good day, Mr. Relevant.” The chancellor nodded to Jonathan Relevant as if he was just an acquaintance, one of many students, or faculty, not important enough to slow his pace to greet.
“How do you do, Chancellor? I trust your responsibilities are not weighing too heavily upon you at this time. Jonathan Relevant blocked his way.
“Not at all. Not at all. Everything is running very smoothly.”
“But the student disruption-—”
“Well, boys and girls will be boys and girls. Calm and tranquility will prevail.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Jonathan Relevant tried another tack. “How is your charming wife?” he asked.
“My wife?” The chancellor was vague. “Oh, yes. Fine. She’s fine . . . I presume.”
Jonathan Relevant left the chancellor and sought out Dr. Shpritzsvet once again. “Your universal deodorant definitely negates all emotions, not just those of hostility,” he told the scientist.
“Perhaps. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I have just run some tests with guinea pigs and the indications are that the effects are only temporary. They’ll wear off.”
“How soon?”
“I can’t say exactly. But probably it will be a matter of hours. Certainly no more than a day.”
“In that case,” Jonathan Relevant decided, “something had better be done to resolve this collegiate brouhaha before everybody regains their aggressions.” With this objective in mind, he left Dr. Shpritzsvet and set about arranging a gathering of the most pertinent people.
The meeting took place about an hour later in a conference room at the Administration Building. G. P. was present, representing the Afro-American Student Society. Minerva Kaufman was there for SDS. The chancellor, flanked by two aging alumni, represented the Harnell administration. Peter Glover came as an observer for the outside interests involved in the Science Research Institute. And Dr. Umpmeyer, Professor Rumpkis, and Mercy Altebopper were there for the faculty.
At the start of the session, they all had two things in common: lack of bodily odors and passivity. For a group with so many implicit differences between them, they were strangely friendly. Yet there was no relating, no touching of person to person. Hate was lacking, and so was love. And something else, Jonathan Relevant thought. Something . . . humanity! he decided. If there is no hate and there is no love, there can be no humanity.
Turn that around, and it might mean that you’re not human, boyo!
What is Jonathan Relevant?
Human, nevertheless!
Contradiction! Paradox!
Well, what's more human than that?
Another very small piece for the puzzle . . . and a hint that there might be other dimensions to it.
“Our demands are nonnegotiable.” G. P. was the first to speak. But his words lacked force. They seemed mouthed by rote, rather than delivered out of conviction.
“But we came here to negotiate,” the chancellor said reasonably. “The administration is prepared to work out a settlement as long as it’s not done under duress."
“Are you prepared to sever all government research contracts immediately?" Minerva Kaufman asked, resting her head on the chancellor’s shoulder. “The SDS wants that, abolition of R.O.T.C., plus the granting of all the black students’ demands.”
“My dear,” one of the alumni interjected, “you don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Yes,” the second alumni chimed in, his attitude both fatherly and detached, “if we cut off our research contracts we couldn’t afford to keep Harnell open.”
“Perhaps a compromise could be worked out whereby Condom-Inium removes only those projects which disturb you,” Peter Glover suggested.