Edelweiss - CH I - The ALGORHYTHM [ XXX ]

EDELWEISS
Chapter I:
The ALGORHYTHM


“I probably will count on fingertips, those who would really love what they are doing. In rest, everything feeds the human ego, the desires, the appetite for illusions.There comes the owner of the place, to make the deal with the one in charge for gathering the workers. If everything is pretty much negotiable, what about to really count on a large scale, all the things?! But who has time, to count these? I haven’t seen so often a landlord, to count the moments of the lives of those who are requested to complete a task – in this case, the wall surrounding a property. One say that since the rightful owner of the place is preoccupied only about the task being completed, regardless of all what takes from the sketch to the final outcome, one should not question authority in such matters. Because all what takes, is the right chief or engineer, and the right people who would work as a team as the indications provided. But I do wonder, at some point, does really any of them know what involves whole process? The one with the sketch, or the plan, comes to lay it flat on the table, and claim: this is the way it has to be done, after analyzing the perimeter of the place. The other one comes and consulting the landlord, over the estimated price for the materials, establish what has to be done next. The landlord, thus, has a view of ensemble of how the project will look like when finished. It agrees, or just bargain, upon case. Then the one in charge with the teamwork, fix the schedule, upon agreements. All go happy, upon settlement. The right time comes, and the team arrives. They have the tools, they have the muscles, they have the brains. And all, occur as normal as it should. They say. All of them, say it. The workers say they are satisfied with the task given, with the fixed schedule, and with the payment. Those in charge, come once in a while to overwatch the process of building the wall. They have dealt with all paperwork. That’s only a surface, to count. But who’s really counting in depth, all these?! Nobody. Yet, I’m the questioner, and then, I ask the landlord why he wants this wall being built. I ask then, what is really its satisfaction, upon the completion of such a wall. I ask also, if knows from where these materials come from, and what was the process of delivering each of them, who’s providing and under what circumstances. Funny way, if not weird, to look upon things. For at their surface, all looks neat and clear. But in their depth, requires a different approach. Yes. Logical. Or too logical, for even the common landlord. What business has the landlord, to know from where those stuff came for? When one just pays for all, does not count an origin. When one just open the wallet or just sign off a check, with ease, has no concern, for these all. These, don’t matter. Under the devise of “I’ve got money, I can afford” or “on what I’ve just gave these money for?” there’s always, something missing. One can not count, in complex issues. Who cares from where the construction materials came from? Or, who’s managing those?! Or, who’s loading those?! Who’s packing, - who’s delivering? As when bargain over the price, for even a brick, who does that? One does not care how that brick was made. All it wants, is cheaper.Same, in working.Who’s really treasuring the work of a man, the effort of a human being, into even making a simple, common brick?But I have seen people making bricks, in a desert. I have seen the struggle of a woman and two little girls with the hands in molding clay, under the heat of the sun, and nobody asking there if any of them needs fresh water, nobody there to ask, if such process is painful, what their bodies have to endure, and how their hearts feel, working like slaves.This example, is one among billions.Nobody truly cares, how a brick is made,- why would someone care how a wall is built?! All feed the human ego.“
[ … ]
- Shall be continued…

©Th3Mirr0r

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"Learning never exhausts the mind. There are three classes of people: those who see, those who see when they are shown, those who do not see. Art is never finished, only abandoned." [ Leonardo da Vinci] [read more]