When You’re Not Important Anymore

Yesterday a friend of mine was told s(he) isn’t important at the university. As in “in the scheme of things”; as in “we don’t have a role for you in our department”. Sometimes academic “units” and those who run them like to use the language of stage-craft. “No role” means the chosen play has nothing in the script for the likes of you. What interests me about drama as obfuscation is how meagre its assertion is. It’s a dispassionate construction to be sure–no role, but also an employment of the supernatural for the script is beyond us, it has arrived from divine provenance like Spinoza’s birds. The atoms assorted themselves this way. Currently this fatalistic conceit is gaining ground at the university. We don’t have a role for you. Ronald Reagan: “mistakes were made”—passivity masks the intentionality. As the priest says to Herr K in Kafka’s novel The Trial: “It is not necessary to accept everything as true, one must only accept it as necessary.” One day your unimportance is imperative. That’s just the way it is. It is required that you not be important anymore. A large letter tries in vain to push itself through the papyrus.