07-13-2014, 06:13 PM
Marcus entered the Consulate and made his way to his office. There was a meeting scheduled for 9am that morning, so after getting a cup of coffee and greeting a few co-workers, he made his way to the conference room. It was 8:50 but it looked like everyone was there. He had an idea of what it might be about- Ascendancy's speech was still fresh in everyone's mind- but he only knew a few of the people in the room.
He was wearing a cream wool suit with a brown purple streaked tie, lavender pocket square and dark purple leather shoes. As always, his purple Sigma pin was on his lapel. He sat down and pleasantly greeted the group. He recognized mousy Darya Korablina, with her sharp thin nose and even sharper tongue. She kept the Press Affairs division running smoothly. There were no leaks in her department. The free press- such that it was- was very controlled, both literally as well as what the Consulate allowed them to learn. For all her sharpness, she did her job well and Marcus respected her.
But next to her was a man he'd never seen before, a short Indian fellow in his 30s- a guess, but given that, other than himself, there was no one here under the age of 30, it seemed reasonable. Beyond that estimation, Marcus didn't know. He'd not been around many Indians before and their age markers will unknown to him. He understood that. He knew white people who had trouble guessing the ages of black people for similar reasons. He introduced himself and found the man was Javas Sandhu. "I oversee the Religious Dialog department of Press Affairs.”
Ahh, of course. Yes, this was definitely in response to Ascendancy's speech. It was time to bring the 5th Dominance into the 21 century.
It was amazing to him that a person's religious world view could hold so much power over them, could move them to make the most painful of sacrifices or commit the most savage acts of violence. He understood, of course, the human need to feel connected, to be known and understood. The need to bind together with others- whether as part of small groups or massive organizations, religious or otherwise- was part of the web of the human experience. It hardly mattered that the beliefs themselves were ridiculous in the extreme. That cognitive dissonance between fact and belief was not the important thing. For whatever reason, humans possessed a craving to belong to something larger than their puny existence; they craved meaning in their lives. Give a person all the money and material possessions in the world- their physical needs being completely met- and they could still be unhappy. A lion or a shark did not try to find meaning. No creatures did except for humanity.
Such a powerful tool. And now we are finally leveraging it to deal with the cancer in the DV. That need to bind was strong. Stories and even music itself played major roles in that binding of people into large communities. It was the evolutionary reason for their development, as sociologists had discovered.
That, of course, led him straight to Anatoly Yushakov. Once could hardly miss him in his flamboyant dress and the charm which he oozed. His suit contained lighted dark blue strips along the edges of his onyx suit, cobalt shirt and vivid thick pink tie with a pearl stud under the knot, platinum glasses, dark hair spiked up. The man was a fixture at movie premiers, club openings, and parties of the elites. The man embodied the department he oversaw: Media Affairs. He had his hands in everything. He was a music producer, among his triumphs being the career of electronic punk band Pushkin's Bear and of new pop darling Onyx. Marcus wasn't much into music, but he couldn't deny the man's influence. He also oversaw movies, TV, and even fashion. People didn't realize how much of their beliefs and opinions were shaped by pop-culture. It made Malik laugh. The one thing that people gave the largest percentage of their time to following and consuming? Of course it was going to shape the way they viewed the world. And it was dismissed as frivolity. People just had no clue.
An exotic looking woman sat next to Anatoly. She had features he would say were African,- wider nose, kinky hair, darker heavy eyebrows- and yet there was something very white about her- her skin and those bright blue eyes, her blonde streaked hair. She was elegantly dressed in a form fitting navy blue capped sleeve dress, belted at the waist with a pleated ruffle accent at the waist. He could not look away. It usually wasn't his way to respond to woman like this. It was a puzzle to him, more than anything else. She introduced herself as Elouera Galloway, her accent naming her as being from Australia. Ahh, so she's Aboriginal. That explained it. And she was also part of the Religious Dialog department. He was curious.
“So you are also part of Religious Dialog...but are not part of Press Affairs?”
She gave him a wide smile and a playful voice came out. “Yes. Anatoly thought that it was important that our Media desk also help to bring religion into the 21st century. Half the world's population is under 30. Pop-culture is their life. Shouldn't it reflect their beliefs?”
Her blue eyes sharpened. She was no fool. “Shouldn't it also help make religion be something that unites and uplifts people, rather than something the makes someone decided to perform an honor killing?”
He was intrigued. Very very interesting. “So I help facilitate understanding and dialog among young people in regard to religion and their music and social media- their entertainment in general.”
He couldn't help himself. The tools Ascendancy had at his disposal were amazing. He was excited to see this massive operation in action, to actually participate in it. This was what power was for, the shaping of minds. And now, the DV was squarely it's sights. “Fascinating. I would really like to speak to you more about this. Maybe afterward we could talk.”
There were others at the table, but before he had to time to make their acquaintance, Dr. Bykov stood. “Alright everyone. Let's begin.”
His eyes swept the table, bringing everyone to silence. Marcus admired the control he had over the group. He watched attentively. “As you know, last night Ascendancy threw his annual Christmas dinner at the Kremlin. Many of you were there. For those that weren't or for those that didn't get a chance to hear or read his speech, among the topics discussed were the revolts in the DV. Now, you and I know how accurate the public news can be.”
A few chuckles were heard. “But the truth is, the situation in the DV is not good. Chaos reigns. CCD forces will soon be entering to bring things to order. But Ascendancy has tasked us with a new operation. For too long, DV has lived in the past, reliving old rivalries and injuries. Father and grandfathers regale their sons and grandsons with tales of past heroics, of indignities and slights, of their birthright and jihad.”
He paused, letting it sink in. “NO MORE! The fertile ground the revolt grew out of must be salted over.!The culture of death and envy and entitlement must be eliminated. It is an honor that Ascendancy has placed this task in our hands. We possess the tools and experience to alter the shape of the DV forever. Never again will there be a worry over revolt there when we are done.”
He paused, letting it sink in. “To that effect, I have assembled this team. Some of you know each other. And we have a few new faces for this task.”
He nodded to two people- a dark man and an attractive woman with piercing green eyes, thick scarf woven around her neck and pulled up to the back of her hair, almost in the manner of a hajib...and yet not. “Together, I have no doubt that we will succeed. There is no question of failure.”
His eyes went around the room, gathering assent as if it was foregone. Marcus too nodded. He was here for order. He believed in it. And he was happy. Even without the Force, he was happy.
Edited by Marcus DuBois, Sep 3 2014, 12:18 PM.
He was wearing a cream wool suit with a brown purple streaked tie, lavender pocket square and dark purple leather shoes. As always, his purple Sigma pin was on his lapel. He sat down and pleasantly greeted the group. He recognized mousy Darya Korablina, with her sharp thin nose and even sharper tongue. She kept the Press Affairs division running smoothly. There were no leaks in her department. The free press- such that it was- was very controlled, both literally as well as what the Consulate allowed them to learn. For all her sharpness, she did her job well and Marcus respected her.
But next to her was a man he'd never seen before, a short Indian fellow in his 30s- a guess, but given that, other than himself, there was no one here under the age of 30, it seemed reasonable. Beyond that estimation, Marcus didn't know. He'd not been around many Indians before and their age markers will unknown to him. He understood that. He knew white people who had trouble guessing the ages of black people for similar reasons. He introduced himself and found the man was Javas Sandhu. "I oversee the Religious Dialog department of Press Affairs.”
Ahh, of course. Yes, this was definitely in response to Ascendancy's speech. It was time to bring the 5th Dominance into the 21 century.
It was amazing to him that a person's religious world view could hold so much power over them, could move them to make the most painful of sacrifices or commit the most savage acts of violence. He understood, of course, the human need to feel connected, to be known and understood. The need to bind together with others- whether as part of small groups or massive organizations, religious or otherwise- was part of the web of the human experience. It hardly mattered that the beliefs themselves were ridiculous in the extreme. That cognitive dissonance between fact and belief was not the important thing. For whatever reason, humans possessed a craving to belong to something larger than their puny existence; they craved meaning in their lives. Give a person all the money and material possessions in the world- their physical needs being completely met- and they could still be unhappy. A lion or a shark did not try to find meaning. No creatures did except for humanity.
Such a powerful tool. And now we are finally leveraging it to deal with the cancer in the DV. That need to bind was strong. Stories and even music itself played major roles in that binding of people into large communities. It was the evolutionary reason for their development, as sociologists had discovered.
That, of course, led him straight to Anatoly Yushakov. Once could hardly miss him in his flamboyant dress and the charm which he oozed. His suit contained lighted dark blue strips along the edges of his onyx suit, cobalt shirt and vivid thick pink tie with a pearl stud under the knot, platinum glasses, dark hair spiked up. The man was a fixture at movie premiers, club openings, and parties of the elites. The man embodied the department he oversaw: Media Affairs. He had his hands in everything. He was a music producer, among his triumphs being the career of electronic punk band Pushkin's Bear and of new pop darling Onyx. Marcus wasn't much into music, but he couldn't deny the man's influence. He also oversaw movies, TV, and even fashion. People didn't realize how much of their beliefs and opinions were shaped by pop-culture. It made Malik laugh. The one thing that people gave the largest percentage of their time to following and consuming? Of course it was going to shape the way they viewed the world. And it was dismissed as frivolity. People just had no clue.
An exotic looking woman sat next to Anatoly. She had features he would say were African,- wider nose, kinky hair, darker heavy eyebrows- and yet there was something very white about her- her skin and those bright blue eyes, her blonde streaked hair. She was elegantly dressed in a form fitting navy blue capped sleeve dress, belted at the waist with a pleated ruffle accent at the waist. He could not look away. It usually wasn't his way to respond to woman like this. It was a puzzle to him, more than anything else. She introduced herself as Elouera Galloway, her accent naming her as being from Australia. Ahh, so she's Aboriginal. That explained it. And she was also part of the Religious Dialog department. He was curious.
“So you are also part of Religious Dialog...but are not part of Press Affairs?”
She gave him a wide smile and a playful voice came out. “Yes. Anatoly thought that it was important that our Media desk also help to bring religion into the 21st century. Half the world's population is under 30. Pop-culture is their life. Shouldn't it reflect their beliefs?”
Her blue eyes sharpened. She was no fool. “Shouldn't it also help make religion be something that unites and uplifts people, rather than something the makes someone decided to perform an honor killing?”
He was intrigued. Very very interesting. “So I help facilitate understanding and dialog among young people in regard to religion and their music and social media- their entertainment in general.”
He couldn't help himself. The tools Ascendancy had at his disposal were amazing. He was excited to see this massive operation in action, to actually participate in it. This was what power was for, the shaping of minds. And now, the DV was squarely it's sights. “Fascinating. I would really like to speak to you more about this. Maybe afterward we could talk.”
There were others at the table, but before he had to time to make their acquaintance, Dr. Bykov stood. “Alright everyone. Let's begin.”
His eyes swept the table, bringing everyone to silence. Marcus admired the control he had over the group. He watched attentively. “As you know, last night Ascendancy threw his annual Christmas dinner at the Kremlin. Many of you were there. For those that weren't or for those that didn't get a chance to hear or read his speech, among the topics discussed were the revolts in the DV. Now, you and I know how accurate the public news can be.”
A few chuckles were heard. “But the truth is, the situation in the DV is not good. Chaos reigns. CCD forces will soon be entering to bring things to order. But Ascendancy has tasked us with a new operation. For too long, DV has lived in the past, reliving old rivalries and injuries. Father and grandfathers regale their sons and grandsons with tales of past heroics, of indignities and slights, of their birthright and jihad.”
He paused, letting it sink in. “NO MORE! The fertile ground the revolt grew out of must be salted over.!The culture of death and envy and entitlement must be eliminated. It is an honor that Ascendancy has placed this task in our hands. We possess the tools and experience to alter the shape of the DV forever. Never again will there be a worry over revolt there when we are done.”
He paused, letting it sink in. “To that effect, I have assembled this team. Some of you know each other. And we have a few new faces for this task.”
He nodded to two people- a dark man and an attractive woman with piercing green eyes, thick scarf woven around her neck and pulled up to the back of her hair, almost in the manner of a hajib...and yet not. “Together, I have no doubt that we will succeed. There is no question of failure.”
His eyes went around the room, gathering assent as if it was foregone. Marcus too nodded. He was here for order. He believed in it. And he was happy. Even without the Force, he was happy.
Edited by Marcus DuBois, Sep 3 2014, 12:18 PM.