#rhys david

Part 1, Page 5.

The Professor makes an offer.

a story by the Author, written for the Author, produced, edited, and commissioned by the ever un-egotistical Author.

It was neither a She or a Him. I don't want to give too much detail about the character, because that could distract from this story. That's not to say that the Character in question is not detailed, however. Quite the contrary. In fact, the Character is the most well thought out, detailed, flawed, deeply considered character you've likely ever read about. But I don't want those details to come through, because I don't want you getting distracted.

Let's call this amazingly detailed (but still enigmatic) character Shim. Shim will be used in place of he, she, her, or him. Shim will also be Shim's name. See? It's already started. You can claim you didn't read that if you want, but that seems unlikely to me as you're reading this bit. What do you mean I'm babbling? This is just a conversation. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS NOT REAL-TIME THOUGHTS BEING EXERTED THROUGH SPEECH, BUT AN EDITABLE PIECE OF WRITING?! Stop being such a judge. You've always been such a judge.

So, Shim. It was Shim's first day (I'm sure you'll get used to it, I already have.), I probably should have started with that. Anyway, *ahem*, I'm not here. You're just reading. Like a book. Remember books? This is like one of those, but made of pixels instead of paper.

IT WAS SHIM'S FIRST DAY, and Shim didn't really know what to expect (are you used to it yet? I knew you would be. Gender neutrality is great, don't you think? It sucks how people make snap first impressions on people just because of it being a she or him. I feel like the world would be a place if we all jus... Oh fuck, I'm rambling again.)

It was Shim's first day. Shim didn't really know what to expect from Shim's work, or Shim's colleagues. None of Shim's friends of family had ever had a job like this. Shim had spent the night before trying on different combinations of Shim's clothes. I feel obliged to point out, at this point, before you start imagining any details, Shim wears gender neutral clothing. Shim's bottoms are neither trousers, nor a skirt. Not that either of those things are specific to either human gender, but I know how you think, you detail fetishist sicko. Shim's clothes do not exist, in this world.

Shim was trying on Shim's smart clothes the night before, trying to get the best arm-leg-head-genitalia-spleensack combo. Shim is totally an alien now. I can do that, as an author.

Someone once said "The pen is mightier than the sword", and I stood on a pen today and broke it, making me even mightier, still.

Yes, it's a good life being me, the Author. I created this whole mega-detailed character earlier on. Oh yeah, you were there. Well yeah I did that. You can understand why I wouldn't want to share that. Actually, you weren't there. The thing about literature is (and I would know, as a highly skilled, talented, and beautiful Author), is that it's not immediate. The people who observe it are not observing what's going on in your head, they're observing what happened in your head, a small collection of infinitely small moments in time of an infinite, ever changing collection of tiny moments.

Shim looked out of the porthole. The iron seas were rough this dayght, Shim thought to Shim's self. Tomorrow would be a new nay. And that new nay would be the start of Shim's new job. Shim's Shim came into the room to comfort Shim.

Ok, I should, at this point, explain. Shim's species reproduce asexually, like bacteria. As such, Shim doesn't so much come from a parent, but Shim is instead an exact genetic copy of an older version of Shim. Shim's Shim, as apposed to Shim's mum or dad.

Shim's Shim explained to Shim that Shim's Shim had gone through exactly the same thing when Shim was Shim's time.

I should explain. So Shim's species don't experience time as half a dimension like we do, but instead as another spacial dimension to move through. As such, experiences, lessons, needs, desires, goals, and, indeed, any kind of ambition become completely redundant to Shim's species, because they experience everything and nothing that ever will or has happened to them all at the same time.

Greed, on top of being an unreasonably ugly word, is a topic which penetrates my mind’s guard and forces my consideration often. It is one of the greatest problems with the human condition, and human greed is one of the most devastating forces on our planet, second only, perhaps, to human ignorance, which I intend to discuss at a later date. I precede these words with human because in my opinion, the greed felt by modern man is a significantly different concept to the temptations felt by animals, which is arguably a version of greed.

            Animals need temptation. Many need what could be considered a basic instinctual greed to survive. Animals tend not to decide that they’ve eaten enough, primarily because avoiding food is a poor survival strategy. Lions, for example, need to hunt as often as they can, be as opportunistic as possible, because they are constantly relying on the success of their last meal. Assuming that they will last a few days without another meal is a path to failure and starvation, and not an evolutionary option. Through this unscrupulous, resourceful method, the lion can continue at least a few more days. Once a zebra is consumed an digested, the lion must begin to consider its next meal.

            Anyone who has ever owned a pet will be fully aware that most animals will show these traits in their feeding patterns. Present a dog with specifically sized meals and it will consume all, not over eating due to the owner’s choices. But constantly filling the food bowl will cause it to eat more than it needs.

            For modern day humans, in the first world at least, this brutal temptation is less of a necessity. Many of us consume all that we need every day without fail. Not only that, but we consume what we want. Whether edible, or consumable by other means, we are cursed with a lack of satisfaction. Once we’ve eaten more than the necessary calories a person needs, our eyes still travel straight for the dessert menu. Once we’ve had the one, intended glass of wine, we instantly convince ourselves to have another. Five minutes after no one posted anything interesting on Facebook, we need to see what has emerged since. Once we’ve watched one episode of “Orange is the new Breaking House of Lost Wires & Thrones”, we “need”to watch another. As a survival instinct, it makes perfect sense, but when a species is thriving as strongly as humans are, it becomes destructive to the rest of the world.

            We, as a species, have irreversibly polluted our air, eaten other species into extinction (and many others nearly so), reshaped the land for our own benefit, enslaved each other, altered the evolutionary timeline of species for our own benefit, burnt rainforests, and caused so many other atrocities. But why would we? Many of these actions could easily be pinned down to short-sightedness. But all could be blamed on the human being’s misplaced feelings of self worth. We feel like we can. More than that, we feel like we deserve it. But why are any of us more important than any other creature on the planet, be it man or beast?

            Thoughts like these during my childhood led me to become a vegetarian. I’ve never had an issue with humans or any other animal eating meat. It is, after all, what nature designed us to do. It’s just that once I’d discovered where meat came from, at what cost a beef burger or a fillet of chicken was created, I began to question why a conscious, living, breathing, feeling, wanting, thinking animal deserved to die just for me to eat another meal, when there are plenty of other things I could survive on. I never thought that I would change the world or other people’s ways with my vegetarianism, it wasn’t a protest, it wasn’t a stance on how I thought humans should be, it wasn’t an attempt to save the animals. I know, and have always known, that the animals that I choose not to eat have been killed anyway. And that personally not eating cod would never stop them from being overfished. It was, and still is, a matter of self worth, and the worth of other animals. Do I deserve to consume this life?

            This is, unfortunately, the only portion of my life in which I have truly controlled the underlying animalistic temptation to consume endlessly. I, like many of my social peers, am constantly checking websites and apps which don’t stimulate me. I will sit around for hours watching a TV show with no worth to me, simply because it’s on. Because I need to be consuming something. Even if I’m full, I will snack on foods which I either don’t, or (usually due to overconsumption) no longer enjoy. This constant search for satisfaction is, without doubt, the cause for a current human epidemic: obesity. All the while it is simultaneously the force pushing the successful to further success. The sad truth is: the only time anyone seems to actually end their search for satisfaction is when they can no longer search for it. Even the most successful businesspeople will constantly expand their empire with no end plans, until they, as a human, cursed by mortality, can continue no longer, never actually satisfied with the expanse of their success. When, in the not-so-distant future, a sole corporation finally rules our planet, it will have no choice but to seek to expand its poison to other planets, other species.

            So, to feel true satisfaction, we, as a species, need to let go of the concept of success. The minds we have are a unique opportunity, because more so than any other creature living today, we are able to counteract instinct, to say no to what seems natural, and instead of endlessly consuming selfishly, create a change for the benefit of all. Instead of consuming energy by checking Facebook every five minutes, spend our time finding better ways of producing said energy.

            Over recent years, my realisation is that my, personal, greatest pleasure is not physical, or in success, or the completion tasks, but in creation. To do the opposite of consumption. Whether it’s writing a song, making a video, drawing a picture, or writing a short essay about greed. And it’s not in sharing it, or getting a public response (although those things are great too), but the true pleasure, for me at least, is in the production of the thing itself. It’s in embracing all those little frustrations, and the pride you feel when you get something right. And, from now on, I intend to direct my efforts and time to that, rather than living the rest of my life as a pseudo-zombified greed machine. And although I hope that you, reader, find your true pleasure in life, and do the same, I wrote this for myself. I wrote this to enjoy writing it.

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