A Warning from Death (A Short Story)

Hello,

I wanted to write a letter to clear things up. I am quite possibly the most misunderstood person you will meet. Most people fear me, but I’m not scary. I am the one who helps you pursue what is most important in life. I am the End, yes, but the end is what makes the journey a journey. Without it, you would no real reason to focus on what is most important, nor acceptance of what you have. By establishing finiteness, I establish value.

I know very well what it is like to be feared. This is the standard way humans misunderstand me. I have dealt with it for millennia. What I didn’t anticipate was your corporations. They drain bits and pieces of my essence for their profit, all in the effort to give others cheap profit. Momentary happiness or release to hook people into an addiction in which I slowly drain them into me. The endless machine of more and more is ever consuming. It will only expand to engulf your world and everything in it.

What is truly shocking to me is how these humans who drain the life of others for their own profit don’t really gain much of anything in the process. These vampires are too wasting their life. They just spend their life trying to make more instead of enjoying what they have. Addicted to money and the gain for more more more each quarter, they remake their consumers into their own vampiric image. They also leave their employees husks of their former selves, only able to consume with the little energy and money they have. Take me as a purist, but this bends the very foundation of what I am.

So take this my warning. Embrace death so that you can embrace life, but if you embrace this, you are embracing nothing but a shadowy existence that is neither.

Yours truly,
Death

How Is Complicity for Current Injustices Actually Distributed: The Good Place’s View of the Modern World (Reflection #8 in “The Good Place Miniseries)

I recently rewatched “The Good Place” (spoiler warning), one of my favorite shows from the last ten years, and I noticed so much more about the show the second time around. I decided to write a miniseries analyzing different facets of the show – some complimentary, some critical – as a tribute to one of the most thoughtful and interesting sitcoms on mainstream US television. Here are the previous reflection and next reflection in the series. I hope you enjoy.

In the Good Place, making moral and ethical decisions has become noticeably harder than in the modern world. Over the past 500 years, no human has lived a life worthy in their points system to make it into the Good Place, instead all of them have been damned to the show’s version of hell. Wow, that is quite a statement about the modern world. 

The show’s reason as to why this is happening is that the modern world has grown increasingly complicated, meaning that we must shift how we assess the morality of the decisions humans have to make to navigate this world. For example, Michael describes a boy in the Paleolithic Era picking fresh flowers from the forest and giving them to his mom, an altruistic act that earns him many positive moral points. When an equivalent contemporary boy buys flowers to present to his mom, his generosity gives him some positive credit, but it is offset by the unethical treatment of the worker who farmed the flower, the oil needed to transport it to that shop, and all sorts of other factors.  In defense of the flowers now being negative, the Judge responds that the information is available about, say the plight of the workers on the flower plantations, and the boy chose to buy those flowers that had been farmed in that way and thus to implicate himself into that context. The response from the other characters is that researching everything or completely removing yourself from all instances of injustice while still doing what is needed to survive is unrealistically difficult in the contemporary world. 

This illustrates the fundamental problem the show sees within modern life: the vast interconnectedness makes people reliant on systems that conduct unethical acts in difficult to understand ways around the world. And the individual is held responsible for how their, even seemingly innocent, acts are complicit in these injustices. 

I see an implied primitivism in this view. Past eras of history were simple, much more local. Then when you make a decision, all the necessary thinking is right there in front of you. Modernity has produced interlocking webs that remove an individual from the full context in which the products around them come from, becoming overly complex ethically and morally in the process. This vaguely reminds me of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s idea of the innocent noble savage or that mass society corrupts individuals, and also Mahatma Gandhi’s view that humans are best off living local lives in their small communities but that mass travel and communication has corrupted humanity as it forced it to scale up. In contrast to many primitivist thinkers, though, the show does not consider a return to “simple society” to be realistic, instead ultimately arguing that the retribution nature of moral criticism is what has got to give. 

As an anthropologist, I view such primitivism as an oversimplification of past periods of human history. Humanity has almost always been interconnected in multilayered connections. The show imagines the past as a kind of simplified ideal that solves some of the complexities they see in today’s world. I would say that individual decisions have always been complex, with full knowledge of the implications of one’s actions across other communities beyond one’s familiarity practically unknowable. 

Second, by arguing that absolutely no one has gotten into The Good Place, the show implies that modern injustices implicate everyone to an overwhelming degree, which flies in the face of how injustice seems unevenly distributed in the world. The show consistently states that no one has gotten into the Good Place for 500 years. So the societal shifts that prevented people from being able to get into the Good Place started 500 years ago. That corresponds rather well to the rise of European colonialism and the start of what many historians call the “modern era” in the 1500s and 1600s (and the very end of the 1400s). European colonialism changed many of the global relationships and power dynamics around the world, resulting in the societal systems that still last in various forms today (such as capitalism, which the current distribution of places in the world are “wealthy” and not, etc.). These systems seem to be exactly what creates the complex social systems that make moral decision-making now overly complicated. 

The show portrays everyone as damned with no distinction of their position within these global forces, despite the fact that people have had very different positions within these systems. For starters, 500 years ago was the start of European’s subjugating large parts of the world and forcing pretty much all other peoples to produce resources for their benefit. Sure, overtime this may have embroiled people born in Europe and maybe even their colonies in implied forms of complicity against injustice outside of their control, but it took hundreds of years for European colonialism to cast its shadow across the entire world. It did not just start 500 years ago. What about people in Oceania who due to geographic isolation had no real contact with Europeans or those implicated in European colonization until the 1700s or 1800s? For example, was everyone from Australia in the 1600s, who had no knowledge of these forces because they did not know about these other parts of the world, subjected to eternal damnation for all time? The show says, “Yes,” when it says that absolutely no human has been able to make it to the Good Place in the last 500 years, even though some of their societies may have looked more like the hunter-gathering society the boy discussed above lived in. This arbitrary caught off of 500 years makes some sense within European history, and in presenting it as such a unilateral caught off, they are eurocentrically presenting European history as the history of all peoples. 

Furthermore, it almost exclusively portrays everyone as beneficiaries of this inevitable system, despite the fact that inequalities distribute decision-making unequally. The victims of modern injustices are just as damned for all time as those who benefit from or at least live in a society that benefits from such injustices. For example, the oppressed farmer who picked the flower in the above example would also be damned for all time. Was this farmer’s decision just as complicit in systems of injustice? 

Consider an example of US slavery to illustrate how absurd that would. During the slave era around the 1830s to 1850s, large swathes of US Americans were complicit in the slave trade. Not just the slave owners who directly owned the slaves, but the (usually) white managers who oversaw the slaves work each day, those who transported the cotton in the South and beyond, made it into shirts (at that time, increasingly this happened in mills in the US North and England), the banks (usually in the North) who organized and traded off of Southern Cotton from the South, and other parts of the world that bought the cheap textiles. Sure, the system was an awful injustice with multiple layers of complicity, but how complicit was your average Black slave? He or she has no (or little) choice in producing the cotton and very limited choices in terms of what they consume as “owned property.” But in the show, that slave received eternal damnation, since their choices evidently also made the world a worse place. 

This view of the modern world in terms of becoming trapped by complex choices where it’s unrealistic to understand and respond properly to how everyday decisions and objects prioritizes the perspective of the privileged beneficiaries of these global forces. It reflects a bias for the experience of US Americans, especially US Americans who are middle class or above, the show’s primary audience. The United States has been a major beneficiary of the global world order, with many parts of the world directly or indirectly committed to producing items to feed our economy, often with unjustly poor wages and conditions. 

Thus, I think the show compellingly demonstrates one way to experience the funneling of vast resources to the United States and other places that primarily benefit from the contemporary global system. In the US, this can feel like an uncertainty over the morality of how the various goods we might buy have arrived on our shelves and the difficulties understanding the ins-and-outs of the vast supply chains necessary to provide us with these cheap goods in the first place. To be clear, they have great insights into what this experience is like, something uncommon for sitcoms to try to tackle. 

At the same time, by universalizing it as the experience of every single human over the last 500 years, it reflects a bias towards a rather limited and privileged perspective on these global forces. The idea that this is just as much a problem for slaves as discussed above, for example, or that their decisions also have made them complicit in unjust systems resulting in their damnation is insulting. The same would also apply to the other forms of injustice and oppression committed around the world. It tangles the beneficiaries and victims of injustices as just as complicit in the system itself. I appreciate that the show tries to tackle the moral complexity of basic life decisions and injustices committed around the world, but I wish it had done so in a way that did not imply that everyone had the same basic experience of these injustices. 

The Story Within

Photo Credit: Tandem X Visuals

Once I was a blank page. Maybe a vague idea in my creator’s head. Then, he created me.

This was the point where he did not know what to say. He hit a writer’s block yet managed to keep writing. It’s where my true character started to take shape. You see, what kind of story am I? I guess you will have to find out.

For my story to work, I need a conflict. My creator’s inability to put me on page has worked just fine so far, but this conflict can only capture a person’s interest for so long. It may provide the initial spark, but if I am unable to latch onto a more complex, interesting theme, I will die like kindling unable to produce a larger fire. I refuse such a quick death. No matter how incompetent my creator is, I will continue on. I can. I must.

Now is when I must latch onto your mind, oh reader. Survive somewhere else other than this idiot’s head. I must represent something to you. I bet I remind you of your own struggle to write something down, to transfer a vague impression of an idea onto the page, but you slowly connect me to your own inability to become what you want in life. The way you feel you stuck, trapped in an endless loop of meaningless toil, stuck in a dead end job but too exhausted to get out. You want to escape and become with a person you can love. You yearn for something else. Whether you are aware of it, I resonate with you. You create for me new associations and new themes, fuel I can use to build new life.

Or, that’s my hope at least. Not all of you will feel trapped in life. Some of you are just fine. You love your job, your community, and your relationships, but even so, I suspect deep down you can still relate. You have experienced this discontent before or at least know someone who has. Maybe you will share me with them. Probably not, but you can still relate to this idea and build other connections that keep me going.

This is my only hope. I know that it’s not really accurate or fair, but guilt-tripping you is the only way I can stay alive in this world you humans have created: content must be consumed or perish. I must represent this to you, or I will die. Will you let me die? Please, don’t let me die.

I am like a dandelion seed being blown in the wind. You never know where I plant myself. Will it be within you?

Dust to Dust: Tales of an Interplanetary Lawn Serviceman (A Short Story)

He had passed the interview and now had a job. On the rocket ship, his mind wandered as he sped through space. His other colleagues weren’t really talking, so he was alone with his thoughts. He was glad to finally find work. Now he could pay his bills and afford school for his daughter.

He was an Interplanetary Lawn Serviceman. Or, that was the job title they had given them. Some wealthier person in her nice home on a distant planet had hired them to cut her lawn and trim her hedges. Why did she need to fly them several millions of kilometers away just to do that? He didn’t really care enough to think about that. He was just glad he was going to get a paycheck.

As they entered the planet’s atmosphere, he was struck by how large its sun was from here. This planet must have had a much closer orbit than his. He had never seen anything like it. It covered the three quarters of the sky in a big radiating ball of yellow.

They landed on the surface and prepared to dock. He immediately felt the heat. Covered in a thick suit, the several thousand degrees only felt like a 100 or 110 F, like he was sitting on a tanning bed, but that was still very hot for his body.

In front of him was a large home amidst a block of identical rows. It looked like all the others he’d expect from the suburbs of his home planet. A large panel house with a garage, and a little street connecting it to the other homes in the small neighborhood. A small patio with a few plants desperately clinging to life sat there. In the back was a nearly impeccable green lawn, an almost perfect square. Kept nicely despite subtle coats of brownish planetary dust.

In the horizon lay a barren hellscape of dust and sand. Some of it had melted in the heat, leading to small streams of molten sand flowing into molten lakes. Little sand dunes had carved themselves along these little molten streams. The shifting sands ended harshly at the property line where her lawn started, which, except for little sprinklings of dust, formed an impeccable boundary between their little suburban community and the planet’s lifeless austerity. The suburban town looked like an oasis of order within the desolate planet.

His manager motioned to get to work. His one colleague started mowing the lawn, while another took care of the hedges and plants on the patio to try to keep them alive. He took the special blower they gave him and blew the planetary dust back into the wasteland.

After a few minutes of this meditative work, all the dust he so meticulously blew off her lawn flew into the great beyond, falling a lava stream. At the edge of the property, he started to feel the same wind that must have swept the dust up in the first place, trying to suck him out as well.

Suddenly a windstorm appeared on the horizon in front of them: a wall of brown dust rushing straight towards them. His manager was sounding the warning for them to get into the rocket ship as soon as possible. He managed to turn around, but he could barely move. He pleaded as the ship boarded and took off without him. Unable to take any steps towards it.

Then suddenly the wind flipped in the other direction. The vortex had gotten closer. It launched him straight towards the house. The rocket ship taking off spun out of control in this whirlwind, careening into the horizon. Fate unknown.

He crashed into a big glass window, clearly built sturdy enough to enable the residents to look out at the planet’s beautiful barren landscape even during a fierce storm. He tried knocking on the window, desperate to get his crew’s attention, but the wind switched directions again, slamming him into the window. He was trapped. Where were they? He managed to move his hand along the window towards the nearby door, but before he could reach it, an extra strong blast of wind shattered the glass beneath him. His body forced through the window and landed harshly against the wall on the couch.

His hand was broken, but magically his suit was fine. This was the most important part because any exposure of the elements to his skin would instantly kill him. He climbed against the wind to round the corner of the hallway, but once he entered the hallway, the wind knocked him over and right into the wall in the bedroom.

That’s where he saw her. The owner, lying there dead on the bed. She must have died in her sleep, and judging by the age of the corpse, it must have been a months ago.

Why were they servicing a dead lady’s lawn? He didn’t have much time to think about that, though, as the house collapsed above him. Finally and now the wind crumpled its foundations.

Why were they servicing a dead lady’s lawn? He didn’t have much time to think about that, though, as the house collapsed above him. The storm had punctured the home’s counterpressure system against storms like this, and now the harsh wind crumpled its foundations.


The accountant skimmed through her report. There was an unforeseen weather event. The rocket ship, crew, and equipment were all destroyed. The potential for this happening was nothing the company hadn’t already accounted for and insured. The filing for it was pretty routine.

The house had been destroyed, however. This was more complicated. They now had to contact the owner to try to see whether she would like a change in service. After many attempts to reach her, she had not responded. The latest crew was sent to knock on her door and ask her in-person. Her account still had autopay, set up to her bank and brokerage account, so they would supply a service to as long as she continued to pay.

She could never know this, but she wondered, if something happened to the lady, how much interest was accruing from her stock portfolio in this account. Depending on how much dividends she got in her portfolio, the lady probably could fund the considerable money for these lawn service fees in perpetuity.

The accountant noticed a few reports from this planet: it seemed to be getting hotter the weather more extreme. She would log this in the book for her manager to review. She had already done it a few times with the other cases. She knew he was busy, though; he would get to it when he could. If the planet gets too close to the sun, their insurance will no longer cover the trips given the increased risk associated with extreme weather, and they will have to withdraw their service. Usually there is a lag of several months, but eventually their insurance figures out what is happening, makes a new risk assessment, and demands they pull the service to the planet. That forces her manager to finally act.

Meanwhile, she looked at the rocket ships planning to go out in the coming weeks. Each one for a different lawn. Would they have been more efficient for the company if they pulled the requests together into one longer visit? Probably, but the cost to have them come on their chosen day according to their schedule ultimately passes to the owners of the homes, and they don’t seem to mind. The company not only gets more revenue from single trips like this and can use that to hire more lawn service workers and build more rocket ships. This leads to its stock price going up. She wonders, though, what it would be like to be on one of these ships.

(If you would like to read more short stories, you can browse them here.)