Each pass of the overhead fan blades makes a consistent push through the air. The drumming of the motor, the hum of some distant machinery, and the steady rush of air through the air conditioning ducts makes a perfectly consistent surround of sound were it not for the occasional rub/click of a problem gear (?) in the fan motor. That one sound is never the same and has no particular timing; something is worn ..or loose. Or loose and worn. Perhaps it is a wobbling problem? It is a loud sound ..sometimes. The fan rotates, something is loose and it binds in a different place against something else, thus wearing a different place each time, thus producing the differing sounds at different times? The thickness of the …you know? Things sound differently through different thicknesses of different stuff at different angles and ..forces.
It is enough to keep him awake. Interested.
Because the thing is: its supposed to work perfectly. No off-sound. That is the deal. The proof.
The Board says he has lost most of his free will. They say he hasn’t made his quota of proofs of having free will appear. Now they using are the test he used last year to remove a sitting President on him.
WTF, right?
The tools are lined up neatly on the bench. Precision screwdrivers; pliers; color coded wire; non-conductive tape; blueprints of the motor; electrical testing gear; connectors. His diploma from MIT. A blank pad of paper; pens; a brand new mechanical pencil; an eraser.
Smart asses. They are using the fact of his past expertise against him.
Knowledge is a ball and chain.
Comes in the door, gonna ease your pain.
But knowledge is a ball.
And chain.
The door behind him opens, footsteps approach, then stop. The fan goes around again. Perfectly.
Looks like you got it fi…
Then the click.
Man, you ain’t done nothin’! You just sittin there. Look, Mr. Chairman, I’m for you. I’m on your side..as part of my proof I’m showin’ my free will the right way. But you got to give me something to tell them. You got to give me somethin’. I’m yo number one fan, right now, you know? I’m doin for you. But you ain’t doin fo’ me. I plugged your chair in. I know you got power.
He sits under the fan in his motorized wheelchair. Staring. Staying cool. A small smile appears as he pees himself.
All the legal proofs change with each election season. You can’t keep up. Even if he succeeded, they would require a different proof of free will, a different proof of life next time. He had taught them carefully: Everyone is a battery full of free will that eventually runs out. And then: what good are they?
But he never saw himself that way. Does free will really ..leave? Or just the ability to prove it? Or is it a wobbling problem? Proofs sound different at different thicknesses of ..different angles. They need to look at him differently, listen differently at different times! The whole foundation of the doctrine of control is that you can’t escape having free will. How can they say you can’t get out of having something and say you ran out of it?!
He inhales sharply. The problem is ..loose. It’s alive?!
The footsteps fade as the pee drips on the floor, but stop at the door.
You got six mo’ hours, man. “Mr. Chairman.”
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Pslam 7: 14-16 Behold, he travaileth with iniquity, yea, he hath conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood: He digged a pit, and hollowed it out, and is fallen into the hole that he made. His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violence shall come down upon his own pate.
In the Name of Jesus Christ, amen