Agenda
by John Cannatella



They pointed their fingers in the wrong direction and led the arduous voyage toward deception. “These are my sheep,” they said of us and we were pleased to be counted amongst the herd. Somewhere along the ancestral parade someone actually uttered the sound, “Baa,” and private enterprise was born. Slaves became free men and women, earned their daily bread, and toiled for the good of the company. The social order didn’t change, just the perceptions of freedom and slavery. The lines became blurred with corporate spin. We worked for the well being of our families now, as if that hadn’t been done before. We could afford certain creature comforts along with the necessities, in fact these boons replaced the necessities, and that had never been done before. We were on our way.

And then the road became cluttered with the carcasses of those who didn’t have it so good and we had the misfortune of having to step over them. Charity and animosity became enmeshed into a global blur and we were right back where we started. We can’t possibly carry the load of our neighbors any longer; they’ve collected too much over the centuries.

Who did this to them? Why are they where they are? Why are we paying the freight, mostly at the cost of our convenience? How can they put up with this? Why must we?

The answer comes back to us in whispers, but we knew it all along. It’s all for the good of the company. They’ll take care of the residue, don’t you worry; just keep your mind on your job. You are lucky you’re working, by the way. Yes, yes, you can call it a career if you like, just stay focused. And keep an eye out for the man on the podium pointing his finger in the wrong direction. Without him how would we know where to go?