Greg Mulcahy

One day he would throw his shoes away and they would be gone. That was one message. A crow is black. And there are those healthy men who heartily eat big dinners and something sticks somewhere and cough, cough, cough, they're dead. That fellow who wretched, choked, vomited, and died.
He did not want to beg for mercy, but he knew he might.
He knew he would.
He could not buy enough guns to save himself.
The installer came to his house to install the new equipment. The installer was fanatically loyal to his employer. At the first suggestion that any equipment might work equally well, the offended installer angrily corrected him. The installer seemed a man who knew no anxiety. Absolutely sure of himself, the installer knew only what he knew and knowing only that knew his worldview complete.
The installer was exactly what the installer said he was.
He could not say as much.
The party of making things work was working on making things work by engineering the present as nothing but what it is. He suspected in their secret work areas party members were creating a precise replica of the status quo that would continue into the foreseeable future.
The installer would fit with them.
As would the crow.
They were sending no message forward, but what need was there for them to send one forward?
Or he could not receive the message. The installer installed the network he could not understand. The network and the understanding of the network were the same thing. To not understand the network in the way he did not understand the network was to be outside the message that allowed one to partake fully of the network.
He'd be a dull spectator, he understood.
For example, he paid. He did not profit. If one paid one did not know what one was paying for. Every time he paid, he lost.
The chronic nature of it bothered him.
He did not make the precise calculation of loss.
The installer could. The installer no doubt kept records that mattered. The installer did not put off inconvenient or unpleasant tasks. The installer took the world as it was and installed the network to make it more that way.
The installer would eat the meat of the world, and, if lucky, he might be left some scrap of cold fish like the seagulls.
Or the crows.