Brave New World Revisited: The Warden
Community, Identity,
Stability. Those words echoed throughout my mind like a bug buzzing in your
ear, as you try to swipe it away. In case you haven't took notice I'm the
Warden in this world. My job is important, but I’m not in the top of this food
chain. I’m the kind of guy that doesn’t get noticed and doesn’t really get a
part in the play. Since I don’t get
noted I’m free to think whatever I like about this world and the lab rats
within it. I’m going to tell you about this world in my mind’s eye.
I’m sitting
behind a desk, signing papers, and watching the rats go on about their day. I
know almost everything about these people, especially the play going on between
the Controller and Marx. How do I know? Well, you could say all the world 's a stage, and
all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their
entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts. I take a glance at a
walking figure coming towards me and I realize who it is marching those feet.
Marx shook my hand, “Delighted, Mr. Marx, delighted.” booming my voice, “We have just received special orders…” “I
know,” said Bernard, interrupting me. “I was talking to his fordship on the
phone a moment ago.” His bored tone was trying to imply that he has always talk
to his fordship every day of the week. “If you’ll kindly take all the necessary
steps as son as possible. As soon as possible,” he emphatically repeated. At
eleven three I had all the papers necessary in his pocket. “So long,” he told
me patronizingly as I accompany to the lift gates. “So long.” Turning away I
began walking back to my desk rolling my eyes in the process. "The fool
doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool". I
whisper to myself taking a rest in my chair.
Days
after Marx became popular by bringing John, the Savage and the son of the ex
D.H.C., to the civil world. “ The world is grown so bad, that wrens make prey
where eagles dare not perch.” “What did you say Warden?” asked a Beta female,
she had the most beautiful face of all the Beta women, a face of Aphrodite. “Oh,
I was just mumbling about something unimportant.” I shrugged off her next
question of what she should wear for Forster tonight. Community, Identity, Stability. Those words echoed throughout
my head like Hera complaining about Zeus’s endless wives. "Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon
the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of
sound and fury, signifying nothing." I whisper to myself as I continued to
live in this godforsaken theater.
Kristal - very interesting!
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