I sat watching Pinky and the Brain.
I had never had a single desire to be ruling the world, but I woke up this morning to something screaming in my head. Not a real scream, but a notion that had been beginning to bug me for more than a year now.
I was not powerful and I was not a genius but I did have something I noticed that people seemed to be lacking for quite some time now and that was a mind of their own. To take over the world in a place where everyone was a sheep was a simple process. They were too caught up in doctrine, fads, media, and social status.
How long had I been inside today? I can’t remember. When the knock came at my door, I sent them away. Every day they sent people around to bug me. The first thing I was going to do when I was running things was stop them from knocking on my door.
The process, oh yes, sometimes I get easily distracted.
I had to divide the people into categories. Religious evangelicals were easiest to control. They followed doctrine without questioning, they believed things whether or not there was evidence of truth and they were stubborn in their belief so once you had them you had them for a lifetime.
Scientists were not as easy, but like the evangelists they were stubborn in their belief. Once you gave them a scientific course to follow, they blindly pursued it until they made a discovery. Never mind that, in most cases, it was never about the discovery but the money involved.
Everyone else simply followed the crowd. So all anyone who wanted to control the world had to do was to direct the sheep. There weren’t many criteria for being able to do this; a person simply had to have a plan to put in place.
I grabbed a pad and sketched out a basic format for what things might be needed to keep the sheep occupied. They reveled in drama and seemed to function better when things were in chaos. Social media, fanatic spending for unnecessary merchandise, frenzied feeding on non nutritious foods, a preoccupation with sex but an inability to function in relationships, and a predisposition to participate in activities that neither educated nor advanced anyone.
I was getting all riled up.
There was another knock at the door. I was going to have to do something about these interruptions. I peeked through the widow.
“Unless we have business, I would appreciate it if you would come back at another time. I am in the middle of something important and I would prefer not to be interrupted at this time.” I said.
I backed away from the door and waited to see if they would go away. When they didn’t answer I assumed that they would leave and went back to my planning.
What type of things could I do to the sheep to keep them occupied while I solidified my plans to control their lives? I thought about it. I could preoccupy them with television; manufactured gadgets that did everything from minimized their workload to think for them. I could bombard them with visions of half-naked nubile young women, who they would never be physically able or emotionally stable enough to interact with, and in the end I could…
Another knock? These intrusions were getting to be too regular and too annoying. I would have to answer it.
“Connie, I need to talk to you,” said a female voice at the door.
When I looked through the window it was Francis Drake. Dr. Francis Drake the psychologist. For a moment I was confused. Then I began to remember.
“I thought we had agreed that you would answer the door and take your medication without having to be reminded. I don’t mind allowing you to live in single living quarters if you agree to follow the rules, but I will make recommendations to return you to the general clinic population if you continue to resist taking your medications.” She continued.
* * *
Constance Livingston was a 45-year-old female suffering from severe depression and chronic paranoid personality disorder. In Jan of 2014 she was working for a Fortune 500 type company with all the benefit of corporate life. But she like most people had realized that to function in her present reality she had to give up being an individual and succumb to the corporate desire to relieve all mankind of not only their individuality but also their rights, becoming a drone, a simple unit that performed daily functions and followed the standard protocol.
In February, she had gone to work armed with a flash drive filled with computer viruses, a .45 caliber hand gun, and a bottle of sleeping pills. She was not certain what her plans were, but she knew she could not continue to live like she had been.
When she arrived at her job, she loaded the viruses into the main computer via the security desk computer which had no cameras on the desk and was always unoccupied for 20 minutes during the shift change, and went upstairs to her desk. She poured sleeping pills into the coffee of her supervisor and proceeded to wait at her desk. She sat and played music quietly while she uploaded the same viruses to her computer and proceeded to attach them to all the emails sent to her that morning and responded to their requests.
She turned off her computer and went to the office of her supervisor who was now sleeping soundly. With gloved hands she placed the revolver in his hand and then in his desk. She sent an email from his open desktop in which he threatened to shoot the company officer. She poured the remainder of the sleeping pills into her own coffee, put the bottle in her supervisor’s drawer and returned to her desk.
At 11:45 AM the IT department came running into the office. The receptionist was not at her desk. The security had been unable to connect with the network and viruses had been traced back to all the computers on the floor. They were attempting to contain it locally because they could not access them from the main computer. They found her and the supervisor sleeping at their separate desks.
When she woke she was in the hospital. They had given her activated charcoal to eliminate the sleeping pills in her system.
When the police arrived they asked her if she was a part of the plan to kill the company owner and what she knew that would make her supervisor attempted to kill her. She said that no one had attempted to kill her that they were crazy and trying to frame people. After several incoherent outbursts, and a violent display of screaming, they administered some anesthetic and admitted her to the psychiatric ward.
She had been in the sanitarium for nearly 3 year now. She lived in single quarters, had everything she needed, and aside from having to take medication everyday she was happy. Her supervisor had been indicted for attempted murder, but had no prior convictions so he had been given 18 months and released on probation. The company fired him. Connie was given an indefinite leave of absence with pay. The company figured it was the least they could do for endangering her life. They were certain that the stress of her experience had contributed to her condition and were willing to do whatever they could to help her get well.
* * *
Connie held out her hand to take the medication. She put the pills in her mouth, swallowed and opened for the good doctor, then turned to walk back inside.
“When is the last time you’ve been outside?” asked the doctor.
“I don’t know,” answered Connie.
“Well what are you going to do today?” the doctor inquired.
“The same thing I do everyday Pinky, trying to take over the world.” Connie laughed and went back into her living room and sat on the sofa and waited for her medication to take effect. She would try again tomorrow.
World Conquest © DJuna Blackmon 2014, All Rights Reserved