Control

It’s how you call it once you peep through a crack of the facade. It’s a widely mistaken volatile environment, much like religion. Not only that people like talking about it, but they endulge in such discussions for hours, rarely if ever having any resemblance of a clue what they are talking about.

Any little action that you can possibly think of  that you can’t do altough you are able to do it [psy/fiz] is regulated by a form of control. Sometimes, the apparatus behind it is simple, like the thing that keeps you under control when you face the complicated decision of saving us all the missery of your presence and jump off a remote but high cliff. The mechanism involved there is an easy one, the self – preservation inherited will pretty much do. But when it concernes your baheviour in the society and all the control that runs down from there, the levers and pins run a little more complicated than that.

Your own perception of value, your private shopping list, your bahaviour in the city. It is allready known, all the important bits: you have the perception of value of a wide class of people, some people buy some shit and during rush-hours, there is a one-in-5 chance that you are the actual asshole that blows his horn, may it be the sound signal for his mother burial.

But the fun part of control is the impact end of the game. The part when wooden-handled tools come into action. It’s when the jaw breaks with that sandy noise that crumbles teeth. When the system hits a trap-door and wants to put you down the creepy way. A heel in an army boot produces a rubbery plastic water filtered noise when it jump-stomps onto the head of a victim laying on the ground. That is the noise of severe brain-trauma, and you don’t need to be a trained surgeon to recognize it. It compresses the all muscles and nerves in the eye-area by a couple of centimeters and releases. It is more scary to a human ear than the loading sound made by a 44 Magnum; that is another particular sound that you mustn’t worry whether you’ll recognize it or not. And this bloody description above is scientific fact. How so? Control relies on study. Infantry flat-foot tiny lines of data kind of study also shows that people who associate hard metal impact sounds [such as the sound of a hydraulic hammer] to danger find the sound of brains compressed between asphalt and boot less creepy than those who are frightened of explosions. That is why you send miners to break the bones of students, not policemen.

But why do we know these and other gruesome facts? Control is a sub-machine, a sub-interface of the system that keeps most of the things together, working somewhat smoothly. It relies on the knowledge of all these things and much more. Off course, the system has many breeches. One of them gives everyone access to all knowledge, or most of it, because it is way too much to be sorted out by one dude.

The Archimedechal support-point of control is the fact that you want it. You rather be controlled than doing your own thing  most of the time.  That is the base of money system, credit mechanisms, TV and most other human-invented systems.

Enjoy.