Stained
Glass Murals; Willson's Journal 11
I am in the Library at Foothill again. In the long reading room with the high ceilings, wood-paneled walls, stained glass window, large colorful wall tapestries, rose colored lamps hanging from the ceiling, and the long row of large polished wooden reading tables, all with those lamps with the green glass shades again. I want no large rabbit lady on hover disc coming down the long reading room looking at me again. I think I do things wrong and don’t know what. So I will stay awake. Try. I find explanations here for things I have seen and write them in my journal. And learn some. Historical accuracy for my readers of the future. This morning was more on what I saw at the Pier. Now on to my adventure with Reuben in Spring Desert City; there is much to politics. That you have to know if you are going to try it ever. Oh my! Not like I thought!
***
[Editors’
Note: Willson writes in a colloquial style and very much in his own
voice as he records what he does and sees. He must have an excellent
memory (or imagination). Later he does research in Libraries to provide
context and ‘backstory’ about some of what he has seen to amend those
passages in his Journal. The
amended passages are in a more professional style you would expect from
a writer who is educated (or who has some education anyway). If we have
done competent work in translating the changes in writing style
throughout the Journal will
be apparent to the reader. We must also reassure the reader that we are
as sure as we can be about the accuracy of the following translations
as preposterous as sections might seem.]
A lot of desert out here too. There are people who like the desert. Some even who are not dead yet. We are well on our way to Spring Desert City up ahead. “Willson do you play golf?” Reuben chuckles to himself a lot. I could have been a ‘keeper’. Is there also a company that supplies Fools? “If we had time I’d get you out on one of the courses here. I always carry several wackers in the back of the car. Do you use a wood or a metal?” A few more chuckles. I see the first golf course way up ahead so we must be close.
[Editors’
note: The text mentions a game we have chosen to call ‘golf’. We call
it that because it is played on large areas of land that have been
elaborately designed and landscaped to be used solely for that game.
The purpose of the game is to cause a round ball to fall into a hole
that is a considerable distance away and can only be reached after
using implements with considerable skill to avoid obstacles along the
way. This is similar to our game we call golf in that basic way only.
We use wooden mallets and wooden balls and play on courses that are
usually no more than ten square leagues (using the ancient measure of a
league as twice the distance a messenger can run in 300 heart beats).
The balls are standardized as the diameter in hand with the distance
between tips of thumb and fingers no more than one and one-half the
length of the first joint of the thumb. Mallets are in size and design
specifications determined by the Mallet Guild. Players have a choice of
also throwing the ball along the course as long as they do so
underhand. In our society by custom there is a course for every 10,000
citizens and the game is universally enjoyed by all ages for
socializing and exercise. In Willson’s society the courses are
apparently much larger, though we have not yet been able to determine
the full size of any. There are few courses and access is restricted to
the privileged in society. Only those who have had access to a course
when younger have had the opportunity to learn the difficult skills
necessary to play the game. So there is a high level of prestige in
playing golf. Players move the ball by throwing it up and hitting it
with a ‘wacker.’ Wackers are custom made and expensive. The courses
have elaborate obstacles that skillful players cause the ball to go
through or around. It is considered an insult to say a player ‘Wacks
obstacles.’ Those with high social status will whisper ‘wacks’ about
someone thought not to be socially adept. Even one golf course would
make a community a desirable place to live. Persons in Public Life
seeking to impress often appear in public carrying their wacker.]
“How did you learn to play golf?” I ask. He doesn’t seem like he is rich. To me anyway. “I worked on my wife’s family’s course when I was in school. That’s how I met her.” “Where is it?” I ask. “On their main estate up by the mountains out here. All you can see up there is the big gate.” He then makes quote marks with his fingers “a ‘secret place’ for important people to meet.” He grins “they are sorry I was ever there so they don’t let me go much now.” I learn that her family is big in publishing magazines popular with the public for everyday simple reading. The family started the company over 100 years ago to bring ‘learning and news of progress’ to isolated parts of The Nation. Now a part of the Cockh ‘Family of Companies,’ but his wife’s family members still manage and operate.
We reach the first golf course on the edge of Spring Desert City. I don’t see anyone out playing. “When to they play?” I ask. “They don’t!” Very sharp, impatient now, then I see the large electric signboard Meet the Honorable Brightly Dawn with a flashing notice below in big red letters Alert: Appearance delayed for two hours! Reuben is upset. He drives very quickly to the Civic Auditorium, which is between a large hospital and a large funeral home. The big-lettered electric sign at the front of the Auditorium also warns about the delay. At one end of the block there is a bank and a pharmacy; we continue to the other end of the block where there is a bank and a pharmacy. We quickly park and Reuben runs to the public phone booth outside the bank. He is in the booth for some time, putting money in the machines and dialing numbers. Banging on the walls inside. Finally I see him talking, be seems to be pleading, to the machine. He walks slowly back and gets in the car. “I was able to leave a message. It will be OK.” I think he is convincing himself. “We will have to hurry back after. We can have those beers now anyway.” Reuben is sure nervous because of the delay.
We go back from the main streets out towards the desert until we get to unpaved roads and into a modest neighborhood of small family houses. The people who work in the retirement homes, restaurants and so on I think. We stop at a Sonoran style neighborhood tavern. As soon as we sit down a waiter brings us beers and pats Reuben on the shoulder. Then he soon brings Reuben another beer and takes away the empty bottle.
“I publish Ax to prove to my wife’s family that I am capable of joining the business. I want to do more than just having an income because I married their daughter. Not have so much time for these places.” I wonder why he is confiding in me. Then he says “oh forget I said that”. I don’t think he believes it much matters what he says to me. Or maybe he’s right and he shouldn’t drink so much. He is quiet and nervous. To keep the conversion going I offer that I recently read in the news magazine the company publishes Your News Today an article that details the ten or so ways the Government works to go against the will of the people. I thought it was helpful in keeping the people informed so they can be better citizens. There is silence. Reuben gives me puzzled look, but does not say anything. After a while he looks quickly at me again, and sadly shakes his head. And take a large drink, stands up like he is very impatient, looks at me with some frustration and anger, and sits back down, now very animated.
He quickly looks around and turns to me “Willson I am going to tell you something. And you didn’t hear this from me.” A pause as the waiter walks by. “That article had two purposes.” He looks around again. “And neither was to ‘inform the people!’.” He leans across the table closer to me and just in front of my face. “One. It is to tell the ‘Government’ or to remind the Government what to do, how to act. The article you remember had what probably? Good programs managed by incompetents. Laws without effective regulations to implement them. Regulatory bodies without regulators. Business agreements with other countries that cheat people here.” “So” I answer, “the article is really to tell the government what to keep doing?” “Yes!” He finishes the bottle, a fresh one arrives. I take a drink. “And you now can see what ‘Two’ is, right?” I’m not sure but I answer “so that the people blame the government and not anyone else?” He doesn’t answer immediately and I see that is obvious. Then, “yes, the second reason is to keep reminding the ‘People’ to blame government.” He is silent for a while. Sad.
“And there is another kind of article that you see all the time Willson. These make fun of the ridiculous things said by some politicians, radio and TV personalities, religious figures – like The Sonorans are taking people’s jobs. The Celestials work too hard, study in school too much, are ‘unfair’ in business. Descendants cause all the crime. What there articles really mean is ‘that all is working to divide the people – keep it up!’.” I sort of smile and shake my head in wonder. I am going to have to think about this but I do say “if all that is true then ordinary people would have to be pretty stupid. I know nothing but ordinary people and I know a lot that are not stupid.”
“No the people are not stupid as you say. Not all anyway. They know that they are being cheated and manipulated. They are just very confused by who is doing it.” “So” I reply “all is the result of a large conspiracy then?” “Willson that is a good point. When people consider that they are being manipulated they might think of a secret organization, of secret meetings where the people who have the real power give directions to their retainers in the arts, publishing, and the rest, you know, TV and all.” “People who say there are such things are thought to be cranks” I offer. “Yes, but thinking like that is understandable. Reality is far worse though. The people who do what is wanted do not have to be told. They know, or they would not have the positions they have.” I never thought of it this way. “And.” There is a pause as Reuben takes another drink and a look around “the people in power don’t really have to create the new ways to stay in power. Their retainers do it for them. If you see that a recent university graduate details a new ‘abuse of power’ that is soon repeated and echoed in the popular press you now understand what that is.” “You mean he is giving the people in power a new method?” I ask. “Yes! That is the definition of intelligence in The Nation. You are not the most intelligent if you are an original thinking engineer, or artist. You are the most intelligent of all if you create and develop what the powerful need before they know they need it.” I am stunned. I am not sure I believe this. Maybe Reuben should think more about his drinking
(continued
on Page 2)
Page
1 2
Contents