Let’s say a start-up company, a dynamic, virile group of entrepeneurs so typical for New York, was acquired by another company than Microsoft. In the last years they had grown from a small business with a small idea, attracting the interest of a small group of risk capital investors and talented young professionals, and the tide of the market had delivered them great fortune, rising them to the vanguard of new technologies merging with old interests. So, convincingly they had sold themselves to this corporate conglomerate, not Microsoft, in the course of spring the acquisition was closed, and over summer the promises of the young cocoon had undergone a metamorphosis, turning into an adult butterfly, the pride of the whole orchard, bringing color to the gamut of green hues.
The tides of uncertainty that a lone swimmer feels pulling at his legs and pushing against his torso, tempting it to go along, then again resiliently resisting in a stretch of strength reaching deep inward for self-consciousness and hope, that Sirens call of wealth, they require us to be alert, raise our sails if we need to, but respond aptly, there’s no time for a paper trail when shredding an enemy from one’s tail in the volatile conditions of the capitalist markets, where conditions change more often than the New England weather. But the weather might no longer be of much importance, like said, because the work paid off, if even the work of many paid off for only a very few, and the outcome of product placement has become as certain and predictable as the best of money can buy, now the David was brought in by the giant, being not Microsoft.
Part of that stability people with a degree in business would argue is due to the fat and solid layer of middle management that has solidified in the global corporations of our time, managers are like flies, they smell the carrion of the wales of the capital sea like no one else, and they grow on the harvest of bacon that comes from these conglomerations, building their towers of Babylon that watch out over America and the swelling hurdles of American laborers that sink in the mud of their consumer loans to buy ever and ever cheaper and cheaper Chinese made ruins of decaying products, which are the loose brick of certainty that now fills our lives, while the ruins are scraped together again by the harvesteers of recycled labor, that feeds their suburban complacencies that rule a world. But honestly, I would argue against it, these vertical powers have a sight, but can never reach the plains that reach to the horizon, while they elude higher and closer to the sun of hubris.
So this company, this small cocoon, has exploded in the last three months to form a vast army of middle managers, more title than substance sure, this typical bourgeois class to whom ideas represent more value than work and to whom supervision means you don’t need to clean your hands at the end of the day, and that is a good thing, they all nodd to this. So this other corporation has grown into such a network and spread by which to reach their outersides that they need managers to manage the management, they need horses to pull the horses, does anyone know the chariot or the horseman that holds the reins? Is it true we are carrying a lean and deadly warrior? I would argue against it, but then I don’t believe in vertical organizations.