The Mental Cabinet
- The Dominant. The cabinet is responsible for function. The computer works in conjunction. When something can’t be found, the computer searches. If something eludes me, such as the pharaoh who commissioned the building of the Step Pyramid, I can search. The computer automatically recognizes the query, and brings up a name – Djoser. (Pronounced, ‘Zoser.’) If this were not recognized, I would move to the cabinet. Here we have two drawers: A-L and M-Z. The section regarding Egypt is in the first drawer. Therein contained: E, Eg, Egypt. Pull the folder, and search. Papers in folders aren’t in a particular order, but it doesn’t matter. Ah. Here it is: ‘Djoser, the pharaoh to commission the building of the Step Pyramid.’
- Imagination. That cabinet is haunted. But only when I want it to be. Normally I go looking for ideas. Information on Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings, theories about magic, Star Wars, Star Trek, Fifth Element, theories about science. The best information’s about people. There’s a billion files about different people, though not lots of solid info about individuals. There’re only theories, but it’s a start. The more I tinker with those, the better I get at making accurate profiles. I love profiles. They help when I’m alone and need people to talk to. Then I can invent someone and talk to him.
- Rhetoric. The filing cabinet is useless. So is the computer, and for that matter the entire layout of this place. What kind of use do we have for a black Pit? (Other than the endless torment of doomed souls brought in by that disgrace!) The bed makes no sense either. There are beds outside. This place is a mess! It’s no wonder things get lost. Clutter’s the reason for absent-mindedness. Clutter – the catalyst of those past years of lethargy, apathy, and procrastination. Clutter – the very thing that induces stress today! It’s the same as it was three years ago, and I’ve no doubt it will not change. Something needs to happen. But what’ve we already accomplished? The Room with the Lock. That’s the only constructive formation within the confines of this disaster. It has the capacity to keep that disgrace out of my way. Unfortunately, our ‘commander’ has no concept of responsibility. He lets that abomination run free, obstructing thought and pouring emotion! Those two are a pair, the bane of my existence.
- Mr. H. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex … Hopefully the lock’s undone. I need a picture. M-Z; noise: Mozart; W, West, Weston Martin! ‘First crush; instigator of imagination, muse, inspiration; catalyst of our Age of Imperialism; middle school obsession.’ Yes. Hello again, Weston.
- Ego. That cabinet houses the names of countless persons, each one of them unique, and all of them pathetic, which is why I have the Pit of Eternal Darkness. It’s my design. The dominant used to be weak, tossed about by the living sea, hung by the chords of religion. He needed a release, so I offered him one. It stands to this day – each time he becomes frustrated I push an image over the edge of the Pit of Eternal Darkness. Usually, it’s one of the likenesses our friend has created. I’ve commissioned him a few times for amusement.