The Scorpion's Telson
For the first fifty-five years of my life, I did not know what a telson was, and yet I somehow survived. Just today I learned that many insects have a telson, not just the scorpion, but this arachnid’s version is limited only to the last segment of its tail, with which it administers its sting. In crustaceans and other insects, telson refers to the last portion of the abdomen or the appendage attached to it.
I received this information after typing letters into my keyboard and with only minimal delay–a few seconds, nothing more. Had I desired to acquire this knowledge as a seventeen-year-old green ear wet behind the horn, I would have had to do research. This meant traveling to a library–we had no encyclopedias. I would have had to make use of public transportation, being without a car, and, since my research was not going to be accomplished quickly, I would have to bring either food money or a bagged lunch. Not to mention notebooks, pens, maybe some highlighters, as well as any identification I might need should I desire to take research materials home and it be deemed necessary.
On the one hand, this odyssey, so time- and energy-consuming, so imprecise and demanding–comparatively speaking–was an utterly inefficient way to brain oneself. On the other hand, I was completely limited to the task at hand. Once I finally had my long-sought parcel of information, I packed up and went home to move on to the next item on my daily routine. I at least had the illusion of being full, or full enough.
Right now, there are twenty-three open tabs at the top of my McBook screen. They do not include the pitfalls and black holes that my e-mail account and social media platforms might be, should I choose to open them. One of them is the ever-expanding document you now read. One is a thesaurus I use to be clever. A third is the open Google tab, and it is through this window I enter to learn what a scorpion's telson is and what words like anomie mean. Another is a YoTub video I may or may not use in the future, while a second YoTub tab is open to the magnificent Bob Dylan documentary "Tales of Rock and Roll: Highway 61 Revisited," because it is magnificent. Sixteen are research materials for this book. One is "Other."
If I've done the math right, that leaves one last open tab, and it is around this open tab that everything I've learned, everything this book might impart or hope to impart, revolves.
It is a picture. It was taken over a hundred years ago. The picture shows a highly unusual–but not unheard of–geological phenomenon. Without this phenomenon, or perhaps I should say without a distant ancestor of this phenomenon for accuracy's sake, we would not be living as we are now, and the world would certainly be a much more peaceful place. To give you a hint of what I mean, I'd like to go back to the beginning of this piece, now in DJ Jack Overview Dance Mix form:
For the first fifty-five years of my life, I was incomplete. The means to completion, however, have changed over time. Back when I was seventeen, for example, to become complete, I would have had to go to school. If I was still incomplete–LOL. Isn't everyone?–I would need to further the completion process by voluntary trips to libraries paid from my own pocket. These trips would involve either the use of public transportation or a private automobile. Food and drink would be involved. Likewise writing materials and government documents.
If you're keeping score at home, that means as a seventeen-year-old I was supporting:
–The colossal Department of Education. Not only did this involve teachers, but principals, secretaries, superintendents, janitors, school buildings, lunch ladies/ men, books and school supplies, and all of the maintenance people and supporting agencies at myriad levels of government that all help keep schools up and running.
–The towering Department of Transportation. They built and maintained the roads I drove over in one form or the other to reach the library or bookstore. Later, the puny library in my hometown was not up to the task, so I took the train to Boston to learn there; this Dept. would be responsible for the tracks and the trains, the stations, the drivers, conductors and ticket sellers, etc., etc., etc..
–The fossil fuel and electric companies providing the fuel for the cars n trains. These (I'm guessing) private institutions would have to build and maintain gas stations and electrical power plants needed to get their go-juice.
–The rubber industry, which made the tires on the cars and the hoses at the gas station, as well as, the soles of my sneakers (back then, at least).
–Plastic producers. Although nowhere near as widespread as now, plastic was still ubiquitous back then. One trip to the library usually entailed a plastic bottle of healthy and nutritious soda-flavored sugar, plastic-wrapped Suzy-Qs or some other god-awful "patisserie," plastic bic pens and maybe, if truly motivated, plastic highlighters, etc., etc.
I'm sure I'm forgetting much of what was involved but you get the idea. Now let's zip back to the future: I am still incomplete. I must pursue completion. This time, I stay right where I am. But I also need the support of other organizations, starting with the Electric Company, the makers of my computer, the same plastic producers–for whom the fates have looked down upon favorably, and any and all platforms I might make use use of in my futile attempt to once again become magically whole.
Times have changed since then, but one thing has not: hierarchies. Every organization or platform I've listed here, plus the ones I've forgotten or implied, are organized hierarchically, which means they are composed in levels. More importantly, each level heading upwards in the hierarchy contains fewer and fewer persons, until one hopefully very special and clever individual sits atop the whole shebang. For clarity's sake, I will reiterate: from its base to its summit the levels shrink, which means hierarchies are always formed like a triangle, or, more aptly, since these are weighty institutions: like pyramids.
None of these organizations or institutions can be created or run by individuals: nations or corporations build them. This should speak volumes about the true worth of individuality in the eyes of such artificial, unnatural creations.
The phenomenon I mentioned above, the one in the picture I often pause my work to stare at, taught us everything. We first started building pyramids to reproduce them. They showed us what true power us, what true abundance is, and that there was new territory to be conquered–in the sky. By now no organization is formed in any other manner: always hierarchical, always top-down. Every business, every government branch, every army, every sports team, every institution is organized in this way. Not only the Departments listed above, for example, but every car company you can think of is constructed this way as well.
However you feel about such ideas, it is important to remember that there similarities between pyramids & obelisks, hierarchies, and all their natural inspirations:
–The first similarity is the turmoil that fuels their rise. Turmoil physically propels the geological phenomenon upwards. The man-made creations are likewise propelled upwards from similar turmoil, albeit metaphorical, emotional, and/or psychological turmoil, yet rise they do.
–The second likeness is obviously the familiar geometric form of all these objects: some are longer than others but all are triangular; pyramid, obelisk, hierarchy, and these rock formations as well.
–And finally, all of the ideas I’ve discussed in this paragraph originate in the underworld. Call it a lower world, nether regions, a world below the one we see, no matter; from these infernal regions such phenomena unfailingly project skywards.
The picture I so often stare at also depicts something else. In the foreground is, or was, a city of tens of thousands of people, and it stands, or stood, under the shadow of this hideous, underworld monstrosity, one that naturally grew to be twice the height of the Washington Monument. And, with the rise of this most terrible higher power, the city, like Sodom and Gomorrah, was laid to waste. The destruction was total, and only a handful of people survived.
So late in the game, if one cares to pay attention, such monoliths–natural or man-made–are still producing and spreading destruction on a grand scale, and certainly not metaphorically. It’s something we should seriously think about, considering the abrupt ending of this city by the sea.
#Knowledge #Hierarchies #Organizations #Institutions #Priorities #Suzy-Qs #PlayerToBeNamedLater #Underworld #Turmoil