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But we don’t want to do the effort involved in playing the guitar, or the drums or even just head-banging to the music. All we want is to flick the long curly hair back, raise both the hands towards the sky and soak in the euphoria of the crowd chanting our name.
For the people who still didn’t get it, the above lines are just a metaphor (go dig out your Wren & Martin’s).
There exists a “matrix” in this world. Matrix is all around you. But fortunately this one is of the can-be-told-and-explained types unlike the one in which Neo and Morpheus had to fuss over red and blue pills. Every day when the world wakes up to the sweet baritones of trucks/buses honking (birds chirping, you say? in the city? joking, right?), the only thought that covers everyone’s minds is “How do I score another point today?”, in the manager’s score book, that is. Working, producing results isn’t a concern anymore. It’s all about the game and how you play it. As the Neo in you fights through the “sentinels” of bugs in the code, the “agents” are busy firing away e-mails at the rate of gazillions per hour. After all, its the one who sent the email that counts.
But before you jump to conclusions, let me tell you it’s not the agents’ fault. The “architect” designed them this way. Some time ago I bought a t-shirt which said “Job Appraisals are blackmail” (and I made it a point to wear it to all my appraisal meetings, until it faded down to the extreme that it began to read “i blackmail”). So far I have been unable to fathom the dynamics that govern this. The anomalies in the equation seem to be just too many for any human being to solve. May be it’s like that “Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle” we read about. The moment you measure the anomalies, the rest of the equation changes, and you are left with a jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces too less or too many.
The easiest way out would be to request the dolphins to approach the mice and get them to carry out a simulation that gives us our “42”. After all, the dolphins are indebted to us for all the fish and it’d be easy for them to pitch in a bit more than just saying “so long, and thanks…”. But of course, the mice have better
things to deal with than the minor nuances of measly human beings’ daily lives.
The next best thing would be to get an audience with the architect, but who is he? Everyone. Each one of us is the architect of one’s own demolition, and of everyone else around us. Each one of us contributes to the fallacies that plague “the equation”.
But of course, we can’t rectify it, because we can’t accept it.
‘cuz we all just wanna be Rockstars………….
without playing the guitar, or the drums, or head-banging………..