Can The Crescent and Stars Really Mean The Good Life? – A Study in the National Search for the Meaning of Life.

Love or loath it. The age of speed is here to stay. We can no more return to the cottage industry anymore than we can hammer our keyboards into ploughshares; neither can we undo the internet; dismantle the feral age of globalization and step back into a time machine.

But this doesn’t stop many of us from questioning the advent of this new order – where is it all leading too? What’s at the end of the road?

The life of the battery chicken is an apt pathos of life under this new order. It pokes fun at the imperative of speed but it also carries a serious message, one that paints a dystopian future rather than one of restful, meaningful and rejuvenating utopia.

What’s the net cost to this obsession with speed? How did it even manage to whirl itself into our lives? Surely our sinews, muscles and brain can’t keep up with the culture of speed forever –  something has to give; relationships suffer; goals get compromised; one falls into a rut; Is it such a wonder these days many no longer see the allure of buying into the rat race and what really happens when one decides to walk out of synch with the drum beat of the culture of speed and ceaseless competition?

Don’t assume for one moment you are immune just because it hasn’t hit you – it’s like artery clogging food. You don’t know it, till you’re lying flat on your back while everyone draws straws to see who will give you mouth to mouth.

The speedophile culture creeps up on the best of us. Human resources even have nice round sounding words to describe why we should all impersonate Duracell bunnies –  multi-tasking, strategic rotation, skills upgrading etc. Whatever they dress it up to be. It just means you’re shifting to a higher gear; it gets a little harder to turn the wheel of life, all the while tiny slices of the “I” gets sweep into the bigger “we” – individualism gives way to the generic – life becomes binary. One is either in or out, functional or dysfunctional, with us or against us, worthwhile or just plain disposal. 

Are we barreling inexorably towards a precipitous cliff? Why hasn’t someone put up a “dead end” road sign?

Let’s begin by asking ourselves how much damage has already been inflicted on our mind, bodies and spirit? What happens when children are encouraged to speed read? Yes I know they cover a larger text footprint, but can scanning really enhance their understanding?

What’s the cost of this reductionism? Does it come at the expense of deep spirited understanding at a jugular level? I don’t know about you but I believe it’s hard, if not impossible to read poetry speedily without missing out large chunks of its deeper meaning.

Ultimately the question really hinges on; what you define as “understanding.” I don’t deny for one moment someone who speeds read a textbook would in theory cover more material than someone who reads slowly. But surely to equate quantity with understanding is just plain stupid. That’s only progress, if you deny the whole notion of quality against the quantity curve. It’s one that will ultimately militate against the whole idea of discernment. I know this first hand as there have been many instances when I find myself revisiting books I have once read only to find myself coaxing out nuances and teasing out new meanings which previously escaped me. They’re of course small things, infinitesimal even, but nonetheless, it all adds to up to the depth of understanding.

When Microsoft first rolled out power point – many managers heralded it as the end of comatose inducing presentations. That only holds true if you believe. The complexity of business can be subject to simplification by compressing schools of thoughts and states of minds into baby food bullet point. I don’t for one moment deny power point improves the overall presentation by offering an endless array of eye candies.

But it still doesn’t answer the question; does it really improve decision making and understanding at a jugular level? If understanding here refers to skimming superficially over concepts and ideas, by glossing over the glaring inconsistencies and contradictions – I have a word for form reductionism – it’s called “rail roading.”

Nothing more than a derivative of watching TV, where one’s nose is pulled along roughly at a speed of a motorized wheelchair to a prearranged script laced with rollercoaster CGI and a musical score that could probably sell Adolf Hitler as simply a misunderstood post card artist who was just trying to make the world a better place for blond, blue eyed albino’s.

In short it’s a form of hypnotism. The equivalent of lacing tap water with Prozac to keep masses in a happy chrysalis; where their sense of security has absolutely no bearing on reality.

I am reminded something precious usually has to bow out; when we relegate the “stop and go” old fashion dialogue to convenient sound bites; an underlying strata of the logic whizzes by us. Understanding gives way to confusion. The truth is substituted for the spin machine. Instead of deep spirited narratives; we all have to settle for shambolic mumblers.

As you can all see, I am not speedophile; you could even say, I reject the whole idea resolutely; enough for me to even throw out sautéeing; bullet trains; speed dating; scanning; dummies publications; executive summaries along with a hundred other things that threatens to water down my understanding.

Yes, I know it could very well be mistaken for nostalgia; a return even to the age of authenticity; not really when I consider how well I’ve taken to fake boobs; I just cant stand fake people who wear wonder bra (the only thing wondrous about it is when it finally comes off, one is left wondering where did it all go?).

I guess if there is such a thing as a longing for a “return” – it’s couched in terms of the search for “meaning” and “happiness.”

What I find depressing abt the search for “meaning” and “happiness” is how, it often shares the same arty farty shelve as humanities, poetry and probably the odd copy of Prozac Nation.

 

There’s an almost frivolous willo-the-wisp air about the whole idea of dissecting, distilling and pinning down, “happiness” and searching for the “meaning in life.” 

 

Until recently, it’s been the sole hunting ground of poets, song-writers and film directors. Hardly the domain of hard nosed policy planners and strategist who would much prefer a mechanistic quantitative no nonsense approach. I suspect, spouting percentiles, facts and numbers lends them an air of credibility.

 

I do it everytime at work; scribble a few mumbo jumbo theorems on the white board and off I go. Usually no one even bothers to challenge me. Not even if what’s actually up there happens to be my latest crackbrained theory on how to win the national lottery by studying meandering ant trails. 

 

No one I am reminded wants to come across as silly and usually when they’re confronted with a iron curtain of math gobble d guck. Most make teeth sucking sounds nod their heads as if they know what you’re really talking about.

 

Of course pulling off such a feat requires a certain amount of flair, panache and aplomb. Apart from the pesky problem of how to regularly deal with the seven habits of highly ineffective people; or how to side skirt difficult questions by out staring my opponents using the Jedi mind trick without coming across as a sex starved homo. Providing one remains confident and not fidget too much. One is rarely ever challenged.

 

I mean, I once increased the productivity of an apparel factory in the Philippines by a staggering 30% by just piping in music into the shopfloor.

 

In Malaysia, I reduced absentieesm to a mere trickle in a vendor of Proton by just allow workers in third shift to watch world cup football during their tea breaks.

 

Of course, one goes through the motions of throwing in a few robots, conveyor belts and cutting edge theories to mask the real reasons for these improvements. But at the end of the day.

 

I know only too well, life at the poverty line for the average worker (I even once went undercover on shift for nearly a full year in a cocoa factory ekking out a  shift supervisors salary of $3,700 per month. That was how dedicated I was to my craft – I wanted to know how life was in the trenches – I just didn’t want to read about it; I wanted to experience it first hand;  there is no one who is as good as me in this area – I am the best there is, not in a kampung hero sense, but in an international sense – I know what works and what doesn;t work!) can often be a dehumanizing ceaseless grind. And it’s usually the small things like fire stairs cigarette breaks, coffea breaks, corridor conversations and pull overs for a brief respite which can make all the difference between heaven and hell in the work place.

 

This prompts the question: should politicians, corporate leaders and decision makers take happiness more seriously?

 

For me, the question has to be; can they afford not too? Against a backdrop where many of us may already believe we are living in the age of paradox - this question has never been more urgent.

 

At a time when we are enjoying unparalleled economic growth; many of us still remain uncertain, bovine and apathetic about what the future holds; Will I still have a job come this time next year? Will I have enough money to retire comfortably? What’s the point of even writing this article? What am I trying to prove? How do I fit in?

 

Ultimately this profound sense of estrangement has to lead us all to consider;  have we been looking for happiness in the wrong place all along?– Does it really reside somewhere in endless economic growth and consumption? Where is it? 

 

Here I am reminded much of our metrics, definitions of success and national raison has since independence been structured to only  deliver on the imperative of maximizing the Gross National Product, little room is given to the consideration of Gross National Happiness or Gross National Understanding of the Meaning of life.

 

Though we may choose to deny this ”great patriotic struggle” may shape the way we weave it into our lives. It doesn’t detract from the fact it’s fast losing it’s allure as a reliable means to turn the wheel of life.

 

Perhaps its time to re-look at many of our traditional definitions of how we choose to square off our assumptions of what it means to be successful; and even question the abstraction whether it’s even possible to ceaselessly build ladders to climb to prove our superiority no end; maybe it’s time to pause, still ourselves and just take some time to smell the flowers.

 

Like primroses and parks that may do little to quicken the heart of the taxman; it may not even get us ahead in the rat race. Neither will it read like a page turner, but it could well be a life turner – relax, it’s another day.

 

I wish you all good luck in your search for wholeness & happiness.

 

Darkness 2007

 

The Story of the Zoo Keeper and the Bee Keeper

 

“It doesn’t require alot imagination to play the role of a zoo keeper; all you need to do is wave the rule book around like a policeman; any idiot can do that.

It takes considerable wisdom however to be a bee keeper; here one can come and go as he pleases, but at the end of the day, the bees are happy and they can always be counted to return home…remain productive….and even behave themselves and not burn the house down…..but that is not the real lesson my friends….look carefully, how does the bee keeper manage his bee hive? It is not so different from how a family, company or even country is run….the wise bee keeper never robs the bee of what is rightfully theirs. Here there is a heavenly balance; where you can say he is stands no higher than the Queen bee.

….if the harvest is thin, he will leave empty handed….if it is bountiful, he will take his fair share….

The zoo keeper on the otherhand is a kiasu and kiasi fellow (small minded and petty). All he does is takes and takes and takes and that is all he really knows. That is not surprising as this also happens to be the Tao of stupid people who do not know how to grow and prosper - they never ever see how their actions can affect others. 

If it is convenient for them, they will bulldoze; if it serves their goal, they will just ignore you; or better still pretend that you do not have a valid case. That is why they will never venture into business. They will talk alot, but if you pin them down and ask them, why don’t you give up your job, security and standing and go and start an enterprise since you are so clever?

All they can do is give you one hundred grand mother excuses why they are needed here.  And without them the system will simply come crashing down! All of which you can more or less flush down the toilet. Because if they go out there into the blue yonder; even they realize, they cannot fly.  Cannot means cannot. I have seen this in their eyes – I call it the cult of the immutable deaf, dumb and stupid. There is no way to be polite or gentlemanly about it. Stupidity is stupidity and it is inexcusable!

Is it such a wonder they can only play the role of the zoo keeper….and when his bees decide to fly off, he is quick to call them names like ”quiters” and label them ”an ungrateful lot.” If that doesn’t work, he will threaten to name and shame them. If that doesn’t work, he will busy himself to undermine their credibility and reputation through the mass dumbing machinery. But notice never ever once does he ever blame himself; we see this not only with bond breakers but also with good people who decide to leave before their season of harvest; why I ask myself? Why should a man uproot himself? Why would he go through the trials and tribulations of starting all over again? It must be one of the most difficult decisions to make even once in 10 lifetimes. You could even say this is the only question that occupies my mind whenever I design, consult or flesh out a game…. or when I am asked why an enterprise has failed or why is it going nowhere….study and research this well and I guarantee you whatever you put your hand on, it will certainly prosper and grow.

Disregard this and do not be surprise, if one day you look back, there is no one either in front or behind you…you are alone.

They have all taken flight. It’s game over, finished, kaput…..”

Darkness to the International Confederation of Gamers Address – 2005

This essay was written on board the Royal Thai Cruiser – KDD Ramayana.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XK2Mn-XgHjA

 

 

 

(This article has been reconstituted by the Free Internet Library Board – The Brotherhood Press 2008)