Читать книгу Bigger Brother - Matthew Vandenberg - Страница 2

Shay slips into a slow run, like motion is tangible, as she approaches her new workplace on George Street in Sydney. Her heels aren't high, but flat like the Netherlands, and so she clears the clear light rail tracks with ease, like a minister for transport clearing part of the system for operation. The tracks are relatively new - call them Flevoland - and the first of their kind post World War Three. It's almost nine years now since a nuclear bomb was dropped on Sydney. More on that if you read into it. But now, for reasons other than nuclear radiation, air is not clear. Climate is changing like the times, and so the gift Shay has for Matt is apt and comical at the same time, like prose she has no time to write (apt and comical have this time covered). Two mouth masks are in her hand, packaged in too much plastic like most Japanese goods. On them are pictures of cute, anthropomorphic, flamboyant, animated flames, which could be offensive to Australians during the season of fires, but the line drawn here is the mask itself: at least you're paying attention to it.

Shay, masks on hand, is Matt's Secret Santa, but there's no clause in his contract entitling him to acceptance of mouth masks. He doesn't think of himself as entitled, and doesn't think anyone should be. She knows this about him, his little secret, his passion for socialism, acutely fetishized. He likes the natural smell and voice of common women far more than obstacles like material goods. But it's funny, right? The masks that represent barriers, that can hang in the air like boring superfluous earrings or the standard scent of fiery make-up, to be presented to him now: a need but not a want, as smoke swallows Sydney whole like a male God's obsessed with vorarephilia, but not in an ideal way.

Shay smiles as she mentally writes her lines: 'so you can breathe easy, Matt'. This is smooth, like the way she dances, like the way they drifted apart just a few years back, easily and elegantly, without ever needing to properly say goodbye to one another. But now, as fate would have it, she's ended up working for the same company as him, so this can be fun, right? An informal meeting, ironic for a workplace, but there's nothing really official about this relationship.

Stop.

A crowd is present. Why?

The stairs are before her, people staring at something surround her, and the store one floor above, so it's the space below the stairs that grabs her attention now, in an unruly manner: this presence of a massive black box wasn't in the job description. The only words on it: Bigger Brother - Toward Twenty Twenty. What rules apply here? It seems as though daily routines can be ruled out. Is this the site? Is this where the notorious reality show is setting it's next foot? This can't be. This is absurd. But the crowd suggests this is the case, this big black box is THE case to be observed intently.

Shay shakes her head in disbelief. So much for being on time. There's limited space on the flight of stairs, like it's a plane. But she definitely has a seat booked.

'Excuse me!' she says, pushing past a congregation, almost religiously for the time being because this takes so much time it's like a second hand is taken and married (polyamory takes time, right?).

Ja-ram is waiting for Shay or controlling the crowd, whatever's more apt given the human traffic making the stairway a road to cross. She and Shay work to part the people present, so call this 'part-time'. But casually.

'Clear the way please!' Ja-ram yells.

'What's going on?' Shay asks, as she reaches new heights.

'We didn't know about this until this morning,' Ja-ram says, shaking her head. 'But our new store has a glass floor, speakers, and we're on top of a studio for the reality show, Bigger Brother. We've sold more food today than in the history of our stores worldwide. We are essentially running a cinema. But this is not the craziest revelation about what is working here' - Ja-ram turns to face the glass door she's been guarding, then signals Shay to follow her in, and others to stay back.

'When can we come in?' a man asks.

'Soon,' Ja-ram replies, signalling for an employee, Asami, to take her place at the door.

'There's a crazier revelation?' Shay asks, witnessing the people with their heads down, eyes glued to the cell that's an entire floor, pushing envelopes with new means of engagement with every step taken like cleaning the streets of Singapore.

Ja-ram looks at Shay, then at the people.

'They're watching Matt, an employee of ours,' Ja-ram says.

Shay laughs.

'You mean Matt's more interesting than what's going on below us?' Shay says.

'No,' Ja-ram says, with a smile. 'Matt is below us.'

'What?' Shay says, confused.

Shay follows Ja-ram to a clear spot on the floor.

They're looking down.

'Oh my God,' Shay says. 'He's on the fuckin' show.'

'Another thing we didn't know about until this morning,' Ja-ram says.

Ja-ram signals a button with her foot.

'There's a button for the speaker in this spot. There are more than fifty storewide.'

'What's he saying?' Shay asks.

'I was thinking he couldn't say anything about us. We're above him. In more ways than one, since every spot here is now like a secret back way to enter the store through, an office of sorts for management,' Ja-ram quips. 'But I don't think censorship is required. That's what makes this show so appealing. He can say almost anything, not that he's mentioned any of us yet.'

'How can we talk to him?' Shay asks.

'We can't,' Ja-ram replies. 'And he can't hear anyone up here. He doesn't even know where he is. No one down there knows exactly where they are.'

'What!' Shay says. She remembers the masks in her hand, and gazes at them.

She drops them on the ground.

'Merry Christmas Matt, I guess,' Shay states.

Ja-ram laughs.

'How did you figure out what to get him?' Ja-ram asks. 'You don't know him yet.'

'I know him,' Shay says. 'We dated once. Not for long. It wasn't a big deal. More like a short friendship.'

'What!' Ja-ram says. 'But Matt's been going on and on about how he's never had a girlfriend. Indian and Chinese men, especially, seem to be listening a lot to him when he talks about loneliness [1.].'

Shay walks over to the button and steps on it.

Matt's the only one sitting on a lounge.

But he's listening to someone.

'You're the first person to enter the house,' the voice says. 'Who do you expect to join you? Long answer only.'

'Really?' Matt says. 'You want me to talk a lot?'

'Go on.'

'A Korean person,' Matt states. 'Already, there are famous K-pop stars, but they don't really have a voice of their own [2.]. But maybe a Korean here in Australia can speak volumes, getting others to wait and pray outside for their success like they're taking the Suneung [3.] as they talk about the nature of politics and stress in South Korea. Eight hours and they'll be heard. Fast. Well. Becoming big like BTS. But if you think that's fast, it's nothing compared to the time it takes to take your own life by jumping into the Han River. It's like the mics are down, the important speakers are underwater where no one can hear them. Who can listen? That's something the stars never talk about. They're too high. But what if they came out of the closet of cloud nine? Where would they end up? What is success? It's the wrong interpretation of that word that has people plunging to their deaths, that has people working nine to five without fulfillment, or studying for even longer. Further, in Korea many young adults just want what's white (with their skin in the game) or gold, or colorful if it's expensive. But why don't they question this consumption? Instead, think. What does a person really need to be happy? Freedom from stress, perhaps? Or, even better, the ability to "CHOOSE your stress [4.]" to be under, and when not to be? That's a question.

'We need goals and passions but we need to own them, and to own them better than material goods. Am I allowed to say that? Am I allowed to push something intangible like feelings that a price can't be placed on? I work in retail and I'm told to push goods. And it seems like this is what I'm doing but I'm not. I'm talking to people. I'm just talking to people. Here, now, alone, I can't and so I'm talking to walls like these are words I'm jotting down by spitting with excitement for a test I need to pass, but it's in my head alone. I decide whether I pass or fail. Emphasis on MYSELF. I don't know who's listening to me, if anyone other than one pseudo God, but I decide whether I'm dead or alive right now, like Lee Kun-hee [5.], but I have words rather than money to share. I'm alive. And so my words can only multiply.

'But who's collecting my thoughts? Is this cell padded? Samsung, just to drop a name. I long for publicity, but in the long run. Now I feel like I always have and so I do what I can to create my own world out of nothing and survive mentally. All I can do between trying to meet people is write. I don't long for nor appreciate material goods, only people present. Here, when alone, I can only speak, but maybe - hopefully - on behalf of many people around the world. There needs to be a balance of freedom and structure. I have the freedom now to say and do whatever I like, but I'm lonely. People need order and structure to some extent [6.], a social fabric [6.] to push but not tear, public spaces [6.], and so I long now for some incidental exposure [6.] again and again until we finally connect with one another. I hope I'll find someone soon. I may have my prose but many men around the world can't even read and write so what do they have to say for themselves? That's a weird choice of words but I wonder how many of them are lonely against their will, and forced to take the blame and suffer the consequences. Lonely in Korea or Japan because their family doesn't care for them enough to allow them to choose their own path in life. Yes, that's loneliness too, when you feel that no one around you can understand what you're going through. Or lonely in China or India because females have been historically undervalued, aborted, so much so that men far outnumber women, and without companionship there is only fear, hatred, contempt, anger, crime and violence, if they're without words. But speechlessness, now - by necessity - is enough to spell out the events in the Middle East and Africa. From the plight of boys of Boko Haram to ISIS. Then in the States shooters cause as much pain as possible when left to their own devices. They're left lying around to put it bluntly.

'Yes, there is definitely a need for control, a need for a bigger brother so to speak. But sister also, and family, and wife or significant other. In general, around the world. I haven't forgotten about women. From honor killings to acid attacks to human trafficking, slavery, and rape, they're undeniably horrifically and starkly alone when surrounded by abusers alone.

'I'm no angel myself, though I do try to be. But to combat my chronic loneliness in my own creative way I search every day for women to talk to, women on buses, trams, and trains to ask for directions, globally even, in the hope that I'll catch my fix of bad breath for the day, a potent drug for me that's like hormones, messengers I crave in a way only an addict can. I put to you and to the public: is this a conversation worth having? Talk to me. I urge you to, for my sake and yours. But still, as always, the reply's paid but my letters are dead. I can't hear a word anyone says, and can only hope they talk and think about me just a little. Or at least about hormones and what they're good for. Will we even need birth control pills [7.] anymore if men are simply taught to value their hormones over the physical act of sex itself? And this is indeed a lesson. One to teach. Not quickly or violently but cautiously and optimistically and urgently. I can choose my own stress, because I have the mind to, but others cannot, and it's to them I want to reach out. Do you feel me?'

_____________________

References

1 Why China and India face a marriage crisis | The Economist, https://youtu.be/SWwhEaFmSno, [Loneliness, high rates of young single men associated with crime and violence]

2 Confessions Of A Former K-pop Idol (ft. Crayon Pop) | ASIAN BOSS, https://youtu.be/KdOA5BCwBi0

3 Suneung: The Most Important Exam for Korean High Schoolers | ASIAN BOSS, https://youtu.be/D4c5ZRJII68, [Parents waiting and praying outside for success]

4 Teen Brains Are Not Broken | Roselinde Kaiser, Ph.D. | TEDxBoulder, https://youtu.be/ZQUBFgenMXk, ["Choose your stress"]

5 Why a $15,000,000,000 inheritance can bankrupt you in SOUTH KOREA? - VisualPolitik EN, https://youtu.be/gRi_ZoKjMRc

6 What obligation do social media platforms have to the greater good? | Eli Pariser, https://youtu.be/bWA1gvA5lxU, ["When things are too loose, people crave order and structure . . ."; social fabric over individuals, incidental exposure; public space]

7 The surprising link between women’s brains and the birth control pill | Sarah E. Hill | TEDxVienna, https://youtu.be/RdwLAyWHBVs, [Hormones]

8 Katy Perry - Never Really Over (Official), https://youtu.be/aEb5gNsmGJ8

9 The Weeknd - Secrets, https://youtu.be/eXDU9um19HM