the inmate's journal : the corporation xxiii : hr & the law vi

If you’re one of the select few very senior executives working directly for a Fortune 100 CEO, you’re a tribal leader in a tribal war … each aware you might be the possible successor to the Chief of Chiefs … each aware you have to maintain the appearance of playing on a team while coming to work each day prepared for war.  A good CEO sits back and lets his deputies battle among themselves … as long as they follow two rules:  1) they are never caught doing anything but paying absolute continual obeisance to him; 2) they manage their jurisdiction so that anyone who can make a noise thinks they’re doing no less than an adequate job.  Everything else is fair game.

 

Some CEOs enjoy the wars below them, in the way that Zeus enjoys and even encourages fights among the lesser deities.  Some tolerate them.  But the divine attitude doesn’t matter much … what matters is how each deputy proves himself—his ability to manage the fight and emerge relatively unscathed is a critical sign that he may be eligible for elevation to the throne itself.

 

So this particular battle between Childs and Haze, set against a backdrop of other particular battles between Haze and Nard, Nard and Twatfish, Twatfish and Haze, Nard and Childs … this particular battle, one among endless battles in endless boardrooms on endless continents in endless centuries … ended with Childs being fired and a new HR head being brought in from Wal-Mart, one with a reputation for cost-cutting and ruthlessness—an old school, no-nonsense boy who nevertheless knew how to talk about respect and teamwork in ways that were believed … and Project Dream was transferred to Haze and quietly dissipated, the way dreams do.  Maeby was promoted to Associate Chief Reptilian Officer (ACRO) and I went back to my office with nothing to spy on but the mirror.

 

Oh yes.  You’re wondering about the sex?  It’s the only reason you’ve read this far?  You’ve refrained from going on your favorite porn site because you expected Maeby and I to be tearing at each other far sooner than this and who am I to delay your gratification with stupid theories about dreams and nature and spying?  We know one thing about nature, don’t we—whether it’s new nature, old nature, virtual nature, or smelly nature—nature is sex and sex is nature and didn’t the Marketing people have it right?

 

Well, the truth is … I fell so desperately in love with Maeby and her breasts, I got so distracted by the wine and the undressing , the 5 star hotels, that I forgot to properly ingratiate myself with Haze and she took all the credit for Child’s firing and Dream’s oblivion. 

 

And that’s the law.

 

You can only focus on one thing:  love or power.  Rapturously falling into the dream of someone else or protecting yourself and climbing to domination.  Do you think you can separate them and have love at home, power in the office?  No.  Jesus was right, about one thing at least—you can only serve one master … it’s love or power.

 

I know you want both, greedy beloveds … you want both full and unified, love in power, power in love, falling and climbing, fantasy and nature, vulnerability and strength, vultures that bless you, subways that sing … you want both … you want it all … 

 

… and that’s the dream.