A Revisionist Tale of Conquest, Horned Heads, and Humility

The word went out a week before his arrival, ÒFloors are to be polished this week. Remove all objects off the floors on the night your workstation is scheduled to be cleaned.Ó Our Fearless CEO was to fly in on his magical company jet and grace us with his presence. Somewhere around February or March is usually when he pops in for his once a year visit to our location. He gives the standard pep talk consisting of the mantra, ÒyouÕre all working hard and IÕm proud of you. Now go out and work harder, because youÕre not working quite hard enough.Ó The only change to this speech from year to year is, perhaps, the dropping of the first sentence, depending on how the companyÕs doing that year.

When the metals division moved into its current location we had one FIMS analyzer. This machine is a little smaller than a breadbox. We also had one ICP analyzer, about the size of a chest of drawers laid on its back on a tabletop. The space we had was designed for these two pieces of equipment. Over the time since then we received another FIMS because of the workload. Later we received a second ICP. This was needed because the old one was having serious hardware problems, and was practically being rebuilt piece by piece. We got the ÒnewÓ ICP second hand, an ebay special. When it arrived it seemed to have as many problems as the old one. So it too was taken down piece by piece and rebuilt. As the new ICP was restored the old ICP went down. It seemed that it was impossible to have two up at a time. The obvious solution to this was to get a third ICP that was brand new. When this machine arrived it took several months to get it up and running and in spec. The same day the brand new ICP was ready, both the ÒnewÓ ICP and the old ICP had died on us.

When the repairman came in to inspect the various broken instruments I really noticed that it mattered that the room now had five instruments when it was only designed for two. There was no room to walk by him and every time I needed to get to the other side of the room he had to stop what he was doing in order to get out of my way. It is a very disrupting situation. I am constantly stepping over piles of data and samples strewn about on the floor because our desks and bench-tops had been taken out to accommodate the instruments. It is a situation begging for an accident to happen, not to mention a severe fire hazard. I often have visions of working at the computer and the realizing the building is on fire. I rush to exit at the rear, but trip over a pile of data that has been stacked on the floor. As I fall my face lands on a pile of acidified water samples that break all over my face. Having been knocked unconscious the acid eats my face off as the smoke and acid vapors asphyxiate me. Eventually the flames reach me and I wake to just in time to feel the full brunt of my death by industrial parsimony.

Despite the fact that on paper we had three major instruments, in reality generally we only have one. The cycle continues. When one ICP is fixed, the other two, for whatever reason, are out of commission. Even the new machine is constantly on the fritz. Being new it has to work out all the kinks. At least that is what we tell ourselves to keep from believing we are under a curse.

In the high offices of the corporation however we have three ICPs on paper, therefore we have three machines that work. So the salespeople are given quotas to fill based on a lab that has three working ICPs. This means three times more work than can handle.

ÒThe king of Egypt answered them, ÔWhat do you mean, Moses and Aaron, taking the people from their work? Off to your labor! Look how numerous the people of the land are already,Õ Continued Pharaoh, Ôand yet you would give them rest from their labor!Ó Certainly we could not have rest from our labor. Indeed we were to make bricks while collecting our own straw.

All the stacks of data on the floor and piles of samples next to them had to be put away. Out of sight out of mind. The ICPS had to be cleaned off and presented as working, even the two that happened to be malfunctioning at the time. There was no honor in a messy lab when Our Fearless CEO is strolling through, it would somehow show that we were not working hard enough.

It was now time and Our Fearless CEO came to inspect the troops who wage his economic war. I felt like my role should have been that of the prophet Micaiah. He was imprisoned and put Òon scanty rations of bread and waterÓ because he told King Ahab of Israel that all his wars are for not, that he was destined to fail. Previous to MichaiahÕs coming the false prophet Zedekiah Òmade horns of iron and said Ô the Lord says, Ôwith these horns you shall gore Aram until you have destroyed themÕ The other prophets prophesied in a similar vein, saying: ÒGo up to Ramoth-gilead; you shall succeed.Ó All of these people either feared or desired power (most likely both) and therefore regarded it as something to be pleased with platitudes. Micaiah on the other hand, saw these kings as something still subject to a higher power, and thus nothing to be afraid of. The obvious fact to him was that the forces of Israel and Judah could not match Aram, and he was right.

The corporate pep rally was over. Our lab had been given a cursory cleaning. All the data had been put in boxes on high shelves in the bay area and the samples had been hastily put into over flowing boxes and put under those shelves covered by a tarp. Papers were shoved into the few drawers that remained after the remodeling of our lab. As long as Our Fearless CEO didnÕt touch anything or go where he wasnÕt supposed to, the carefully crafted illusion would hold. There was but one last touch needed to convince him that he could wage his economic war with impunity, the Òhorns of ZedekiahÓ needed to be forged. It happened that the ÒnewÓ ICP was working that day so I had taken down the torch for the brand new ICP and cleaned it while My Absentee Manager fidgeted with the tubing on the old instrument. The staff meeting was over and it was time for the tour. There was tension in the air so thick that it seemed headlights were required. When Our Fearless CEO came into our lab, we had just gotten the two broken ICPs to light. Eureka, all three instruments seemed to be running smoothly. Of course they werenÕt running smoothly. The pumps turned, the plasma was lit, and they hummed with all the joy of instruments ready to run samples, but if one tried to calibrate either of the two broken ones they would fail miserably. But Our Fearless CEO was not in the lab to calibrate the instrumentation. He was there to see the glory of his folly. My Absentee Manager (who for some strange reason had actually showed up for work that day) went into a long shpeal about how Òwith these three instruments runningÓ we could handle any load that came our way. And of course he was right, we could. The problem was only one actually worked. Not only had I failed in my prophetic call to truth, I had been complicit in the forging of two Our Fearless CEOÕs iron horns.

Should I feel bad about this? Any failure to be truthful should be repented as a matter of course. But, it must be remembered that God was the one who Òhardened the heart of PharaohÓ not to let the Israelites go into the desert to worship, thereby bringing about the plagues that ended in the death of the first born. It was also God who said to the deceiving spirit that presented itself before the throne of the almighty, ÒWho will deceive Ahab so that he will go up and fall at Ramoth-gilead . . . You shall succeed in deceiving him. Go forth and do this.Ó That spirit was in the hands that forged the horns of Zedekiah.

Pharaoh was grasping for glory and as a result forced undo labor onto Israel. Because of this God hardened his heart to teach him a lesson. Ahab, king of Israel, stretched out his hand for power and for his own glory and God sent the lying spirit into Zedekiah to deceive him. Because of these Biblical tidbits I can hope that I am in the line of Zedekiah. That is, I am aiding the divine plan though my weakness and underhandedness. I am helping to bring Our Fearless CEO to a place of humility, for grasping for more than deliverable, paying too much attention to numbers and measurements of market and not enough to need of the laborers on whom he so desperately depends. No decent person would wish the end of Ahab king of Israel on anyone. ÒSomeone, however, drew a bow at random and hit the king of Israel between the joints of his breastplate. He ordered his charioteer Ôrein about and take me out of the ranks for I am disabled.Õ The battle grew fierce during the day, and the king, who was propped up in his chariot facing the Arameans, died in the evening. The blood from his wound flowed to the bottom of his chariot . . . They went to Samaria where they buried the king. When the chariot was washed at the pool of Samaria, the dogs licked up his blood and harlots bathed there.Ó One gets the impression from the good book that AhabÕs death was less than noble. Our Fearless CEO may himself be in line for a considerable castigation, not necessarily of an ignoble death, but of poor profit margins for his lack of attention. In either case the punishment fits the crime.

I was acting, of course, through my weak motivations of fear. Yet, this is so often how divinity works through people, mainly to let them know that they are not performing the work through power of their own, but God who is more powerful uses their weakness to aid divine providence. It could be all of this . . . or it could be that I over interpret my fearful need to deceive authority figures to their detriment and my gain. IÕm sure there are plenty of Zedekiahs and Micaiahs around to advise me on the matter if I would listen.

Phillip G.

Literature