Dilemma of the Modern Man

11:57pm

Ambulance alarms from the street jolt awake the Modern Man. Rubbing his eyes, he

looks at his watch and notices that it is nearly midnight. His greatest project is almost

finished, but he nearly slept past the deadline and has to get moving. The Modern Man

adjusts his black-and-white striped tie and proceeds on his journey to discuss the project with

his bosses. As he shuffles past the break room, his friend and co-worker Oppenheimer

approaches him.

Sleeping late, huh? Oppenheimer asks with a curious smirk.

Sleep is a short reprieve as my project nears completion. I need final approval from

the higher ups before I release it publicly. The Modern Man says this as he moves towards

the door.

Do you really need their blessing? This is your project and yours alone, so do what

you feel is right.

Shrugging apathetically at Oppenheimer, the Modern Man opens the door to the

Human Resources department. The area is drenched in stark white paint and blindingly

bright lights. The workers are dressed head-to-toe in white business casual and have an

unsettling smile on all of their faces. This department is eerily silent compared to the rest, like

it has an air of purity surrounding it. As the Modern Man shuffles past the workers, they

rigidly wave at him as if they were robots.

In front of him is the office of the Chief Human Resources Officer, Sandalphon. The
door handle feels icy and sterile, much like the rest of the department. Inside, Sandalphon sits

at his desk reading a book on puritan writing in American culture. He is by far one of the

tallest people in the building and towers over the Modern Man like an angelic statue dressed

in a pure white suit.

Sandalphon puts his book aside and says My my, oh my, if it isnt our finest worker

himself, the Modern Man! He rubs his cheeks in delight as a large smile grows on his face.

Is your project finally ready? Sandalphon says with elation.

Its nearly complete, but Im feeling uneasy about something. This project will affect a

wide range of people and might be harmful to some. Im deeply concerned of the negative

impact my project might have on American culture.

The smile on Sandalphons face widens and he says Dont be troubled by the

insignificant details. Our country will not be harmed in any way by the release of your

project. The only ones who should be afraid are the impure filth who try to upset the good

purpose of our nation, for they do not understand the importance of your project in the

slightest. Sandalphon grips his shoulder and iciness seethes into the Modern Man.

Your project will bring a smile to the face of every child in this country. The careless

will try to drag you into the depths of failure, but your place in society will shine brightly.

Have faith in yourself!

Sandalphon returns to his book and the Modern Man heads towards Technology

Department. He cant shake this feeling of being controlled by an invisible force. It sends a

chill up his spine thinking about a nation of perfection and cleanliness, devoid of free will. As
the Modern Man pushes on the door to the Technology department, the weight of the door is

heavier. It takes much more of his strength to open it this time, like an unseen force pushing

him back.

11:58pm

Once inside of the Technology department, the Modern Man is engulfed in sweltering

heat. The air conditioning seems to be broke in this area and it makes the Modern Man

grimace slightly. Loud music blares from a radio and the Modern Man cups his ears. The

nearby workers are wearing street clothes and chugging back bottles of cheap liquor as they

mash away at their workload. In the break room, the workers are tearing off their clothes and

dancing to obnoxious music. The technology department sure is interesting, he thinks to

himself.

After dodging yet another pile of naked business workers, the Modern Man stumbles

into the office of the Chief Technology Officer Helel. The office is somehow hotter than the

rest of the department and smells like rancid alcohol and sweat. Helel is ahead playing mini-

golf in his room and motions for him to sit. He is dressed in a black suit with a red tie and

slicked back hair. The Modern Man takes a seat on a couch between two naked women in

masquerade masks and adjusts his tie as they uncomfortably squish him into the middle.

Helel swings his club hard, knocking the golf ball through the window and curses

extravagantly.

What the fuck is it this time, Modern Man? Helel chucks the golf club out of the

window in a quiet rage.

 Well, my project is ready for launch and Im having second thoughts. Society may not

be ready for change just yet and I think we should reconsider some of the parameters before

releasing it. The girls next to the Modern Man grab his leg, but he gently pushes them away.

Helel stomps up to him and says All Im hearing coming out of your mouth is Wah

wah wah, my project is too harsh and toxic to society! Your lack of ambition is grinding my

nerves to dust. Helel lights up a cigar, puffs and says The weak need to be challenged or

else they will keep making worthless, mediocre shit that appeals to nobody. Your project far

exceeds the crap your peers is producing and will actually benefit America in a tangible

way.

Flicking his cigar to the ground, Helel puffs smoke into the Modern Mans face and

says If a useless person is sacrificed, does that mean they finally served a purpose? Do what

the world needs, not whats morally right. Helel smirks and orders a naked worker to bring

him new golf equipment. The Modern Man walks slowly out of the office while dragging a

naked masquerade girl clinging to his foot.

Drenched in sweat and the smell of cheap perfume, The Modern Man approaches the

door to the Testing Facility. Upon pushing on the door, pain spirals through his body. Was he

really that tired today? He survives the pain and pushes forward into the Testing Facility.

11:59pm

Workers casually move through the office and step around the Modern Man. Nothing

feels out of the ordinary as people conduct tests for their projects. Machines whir as they

produce calculations for the workers. His last stop is to meet the Chairman who keeps his
office right in the heart of the Testing Facility. The door to his office looks like a janitors closet

with the name tag barely hanging on. Inside is a small room with a tiny desk where

Chairman Nebuchadnezzar sits. He is an old man with a long beard wearing business casual.

On the desk are family photos, a slinky and a large plastic fish.

Nebuchadnezzar pulls up a chair for the Modern Man and says Are you excited to

show off your work to the public?

Well, not quite. Im conflicted with releasing the project in its current state and worry

about the repercussions that will ensue. The Modern Man grabs his right arm and looks

down.

You shouldnt doubt your ability. Your project is fantastic and will change the course

of history. Nebuchadnezzar frowns sadly and pats the Modern Mans shoulder. During my

younger years, I made many mistakes. My actions hurt countless people and I too was lost

with what to do. What worked best for me was to keep trying until I did things that felt

right.

Nebuchadnezzar lets go of his shoulder, smiles and says Your project may hurt some

people, but it will help so many more. Decisions are not meant to be easy, nor should they be.

I wont think any less of you if you decide to stop the project, but I believe it will help

America tremendously in the end. He pulls the Modern Man close, and whispers We are all

sons of bitches. Do what you want, but at least do something.

Gripping his black-and-white striped tie anxiously, the Modern Man leaves the office

and approaches the door to his project. The doorway extends for what seems like forever and
emits an ominous presence. Behind this door lies his greatest life work, yet the Modern Man

feels terrified of it. Sighing deeply, he pushes the door with his entire body. Regardless of

how much agony he endures, the door does not budge. Boiling steam shoots through the

openings as he continues his task. The door freezes his body while the steam burns him.

Screaming out in pain, the Modern Man manages to creak the door slightly. His bones start

cracking under the pressure as some cosmic force tries to stop him from reaching his project.

His shoes melt onto his feet and his right arm snaps in half, but the Modern Man continues to

push. With the last of his strength concentrated into his left arm, the door opens.

5:27pm

Kenneth Bainbridge steps into Los Alamos Laboratory, awaiting the launch of his

project. The greatest work of his life, code-named Trinity, is a nuclear bomb that will

change the world. Bainbridge felt a mild amount of uncertainty prior to reaching this room,

but now his conviction was stronger.

His fellow scientist Robert Oppenheimer approaches him and asks Arent you just the

spitting image of the American modern man?

If you think so. Is everything ready? Says Bainbridge.

Of course. On your orders.

In mere moments, Trinity exploded and a foul yet awesome display engulfed

Bainbridge. His conviction was blown away in that moment, leaving him shuddering on the

inside. Regret consumes his mind as he struggles to retain his composure.

Bainbridge adjusts his black-and-white striped tie before whispering to Oppenheimer

Now we are all sons of bitches.
 Apotheosis

Church bells ring on a pious day----Oh, how they usher in the sacred melody!
The Manufactured Messiah embraces his blessed garb and ribbon,
Walking out of the laboratory with determination
Holding closely a psalm of bitter spite

His dearest friends are but memories in his heart

Impaled, stoned, hanged and burned----Yet not a single sin did they commit
The church moved with mechanical grace in the distance,
Standing proudly as a sinister obelisk

Not a single tear on his face,

A crown of worship holds his sorrow back
The Messiah sees a serpent in his reflection----A truth the devout do not see
In the shadows stalks the Apostate, waiting for the coming of seed

Mass of clergy bow before him and cry for his loss,
His body covered in silky white fur----pure and virgin, never once defiled
The priest gods beckoned him to the altar,
With a sacrificial dagger in each hand

In a fit of chaos, the clergy was no more----The church painted red with vigor
In the divine blood of those he massacred, the Apostate holds the Messiah in his arms,
Taking off clothes and embracing passionately, uncomfortably, without choice
The altar cracks as defilement takes place, revealing God's Dimension

Tears flowed down the Messiah's face

Covered in sacred blood and pearly white devotion,
An act of great profanity brought him to trial
While God stands at his podium in the courtroom, waiting to pass judgment

Visions of misery and guilt overwhelm the Messiah's heart, blinding his conviction
Giving birth to the Beast of Indulgence
Nothing but anger and hunger remains,
As the Beast devours the courtroom

The Apostate runs in fear----Oh, how the blood runs from his severed arm!
With no God left, he snickers to himself
Grasping firmly on what remains of the faithful light
The Beast consumes the Apostate, ushering in a world of depravity