.jpg)
Whenever anyone starts a new sport, a hobby, a job, or in this case becomes involved with a religion, there's a period of unbridled enthusiasm. The possibilities seemingly endless. Its all you ever want to do. High spirited idealism triumphing over the grittier, trickier, clunkier aspects of oneself and the actual situations you live and work in. Positive emotions, imaginatively fired up with passionate devotional fervour divert awareness away from such pesky negatives. Talents and potential that have lain dormant and unexplored for so long, well, lets just say they are eagerly overestimated.
Suddenly its possible, in ones mind at least, for you to become whoever you want to be, you just have to want it enough. Commit yourself to an ardent disciplined pursuit of your ideal, purer, more perfect self. Who wouldn't want to free themselves of impediments given the opportunity and means? The power of most political and religious ideologies is leveraged by such a vision, of potency unchained. Its amazing what these can make anyone do, of their own free will.
And so it was with Duncan. Similar to reformed smokers, the most damning and vitrolic critic of religon, once they become one of the faithful and intimately caught up in it, turn into the equivalent of a hard line Jesuit enforcer. Duncan, so reserved, weak of will and lacking in confidence, had moved rapidly from being a man with a wary, sceptical, if not defensive viewpoint, into being a wildly open minded embracing enthusiast. Now he wanted, to not just read everything, but to try out everything, disciplining himself with a fervent inflexibility to every conceivable spiritual practice. Because everything beamed so brightly from this new dawn, any discernible Jungian shadow side was whitened out in the glare from it. He learned to meditate, completed beginners then intermediate courses, did weekend study and training retreats in central London. Hoovering up whatever Material Arts Movements teachings and practice's that Gavin thought it appropriate to offer him.
His approach to work and fellow practitioner's shifted too. He'd been hyper critical of most of the 'believers' before joining their ranks himself. Largely because of their perceived laziness and incompetence in the practical sphere. Who would have guessed it, that these self same failings extended into their spiritual practice too? Now he was one of them he felt it his duty towards his fellow brothers, to pick them up on the minutest behavioural infringement. This wasn't helped by a pamphlet written by (Runga Bunga La Di Da ) called The Crucible of Friendship. Where it was suggested using the 'hot poker of feedback' so that it 'stoked the embers of self-awareness'. Duncan glossed over the qualification that this type of feedback was only beneficial in 'long standing and mutually respectful friendships'. He just vented his righteous sword of a mouth at anyone
It wasn't long before he was considered by most at Retinal Hemorrhage, to be an almighty self righteous prick. Gavin, initially turned a blind eye to this previously uncharacteristic behaviour. He recognised what was going on, he'd had similar moments of zeal, where he'd pulled people up for the smallest deviation or infraction of good practice. This he knew would pass. He just had to give the naive idealism sufficient time to become tarnished a little. For reality to hit the fanatic in his lover.
It wasn't until he too was in receipt of being 'stoked' by Duncan, that he very patiently sat him down, and tokd him in even unemotional tones to never to do that to him ever again. That how he was acting at work was not just unhelpful, but cruel and counter productive, not to mention exhibiting a complete lack of compassionate understanding. Duncan sucked in his face, then left in a resentful huff at being so kindly, but thoroughly pulled up. Gavin smirked, Duncan would get over it, the pout said it all.
As it turned out this wasn't to be the end of it. The very next day Gavin was presented with a delegation of stroppy 'believers', who had a more radical idea for how Gavin should deal with his boyfriend. Accusing Gavin of protecting his lover from the consequences of his actions. Duncan must leave or they would. This put him in an impossible position, any action he took either compromised his relationship or his effectiveness in running the business. Duncan's approach and execution of his work, taken on its own, was exemplary and beyond criticism. The problem was his intolerant zeal, which could always be tempered down, not his competence in doing his job well. He would not 'move on' his lover, let alone sack him. The situation they were putting him he felt was invidious.
Gavin was experiencing first hand, one of the many reasons outlined by ( Runga Bunga La Di Da) in his writings, why internal relationships within the movement were to be so actively discouraged. Primarily, sexual relationships sabotaged clear thinking and action. That this principle was broken at some point by nearly everyone, did not alter that fact. However, this took little or no account of a universal truth about personal relationships - that it was in the nature of human loins, not the undoubted correctness of religious ideals, that they would always forcefully thrust themselves into the motivational driving seat. Gavin was going to have to call someone else in to sort the situation out, and mediate with his staff. Too emotionally invested himself, he no longer could do this. So who would that person be ?
Passing the buck upwards, he sent an e.mail to the UK Headquarters for the movement. Few people knew exactly who ran it, where it was, or what its purpose was, or how ir was funded. Gavin certainly didn't know. There were names, but mostly without faces, but with reputations. His eye brows raised when he learnt who they were sending, - the current Controller of Rectitude, Peter McAlister, popularly nicknamed The Persuader. Judging by his reputation in the movement, he seemed an entirely heavy handed and disproportionate response.
He arrived at Retinal Hemorrhage on the dot of 9am, the very next day.
Anyone who might have been expecting The Controller of Rectitude to be a tall serenely imposing man with seet kindly eyes, would have been surprised by his size. He was diminutive and sweaty, with sleepless bruised looking swags under his eyes, punched into a wide face that matched his rotund pudgy body. He resembled the sort of disheveled looking bouncer you saw in seedy nightclubs. Dressed in an ill fitting suit,tobacco stained shirt collar, obligatory garish tie at half mast, and seriously scuffed black brogues. Piercingly intelligent, one look from his black eyes drove deep into any soul, whose psychological armour would crumple, unable to withstand them.
In the execution of his job, he felt there was no desire or virtue in him in being the kindly spiritual practitioner of the Material Arts Movement. His religious duties, did not require him to be likable or pleasant, but critical and coercive. He was definitely more of a dark arts man, the bloated bruiser, a gangster with no redeemable, mother loving softer side. The first words spoken tpo him weren't the furious castigation Gavin was expecting. Out of his heavy lipped mouth came a voice, whose timbre and tendency to reverberate its vowel sounds, indicated that a long long time ago he may have been from Glasgow. It was gruff, squeaky and yet matter of fact.
'You might reasonably be expecting me here today to sort out this moderate little crisis you and your boyfriend have summoned into being. However, there is a far greater, far more grave, far more urgent matter I'm here to deal with. I'll not explain this in precise detail right now. You'll just have to take my word for it. Because there are things we need to action, and action straight away. You are going to help me organise and carry this out, my boys.
What we have to do is close Retinal Hemorrhage down. Clear out machinery, computers, furniture, initially to the garage warehouse in Finsbury Park. To sell these off at a later date, once the coming storm of interest has passed. Destroy any paper documentation, transfer money, pay off creditors, all employed staff, close all bank accounts. We must leave no active trace here that might lead the authorities too swiftly to individuals, communities or institutions of the movement either here, in Europe or worldwide.
Close that gaping mouth Gavin. Get cracking man! All this needs to happen pronto - ideally fuckin yesterday.'
NEXT EPISODE
Duncan's Not Doing Too Well ( Episode 12 /12)
The final episode of Part One of Donkey's Almanac
will be posted on Friday 25th November
No comments:
Post a Comment