Puppeteer

21 September 2011

I can see the strings, the cross-rods way above me.

I move a leg. And another one. In a few moments, I begin to do something my puppeteer calls walking. He smiles. As he twitches the cross-rods, his audience is entertained, dazzled by this wondrous thing that moves.

He pulls strings here and there, and I realize I am not alone. There are hundreds of us - perhaps even thousands, all moving, all doing stuff - to the delight of the audience. My fellow puppets seem not to take notice of the strings connected to them: it's like they haven't seen it yet.. or just prefer not to give a damn.

I look at the audience. A massive plethora of myriad individuals, watching us, studying us. Then I see something above them - strings. They are puppets as well, puppets who are currently just watching us do stunts. Eventually my eye catches one of the stage puppets move ot of the stage to be replaced with someone from the audience. After a few moments, I feel my legs being walked out of the stage. I am now being made a part of the audience as well.

All of the motions, all of the people watching, makes me wonder who moves these many puppets, who controls them. I squint up toward the light to take a glance at the puppeteer's nametag. His name is Society. For the past few hours, I keep seeing someone go to Society and help him move the puppets. A few hours ago, there was only one. Now there are hundreds of them, each making at least 10 puppets move. They all have the same nametag: Technology.

Now Society doesn't always control the puppets by himself. Sometimes, he crushes them, destroys them, throws them into a fire for reasons I could not comprehend. Sometimes Society just cuts off a puppet's strings, rendering the poor wooden figure lifeless, laying in a heap of wooden uselessness on the floor. He occasionally wipes out puppets of a certain color, of a certain height. There are times when he threw an entire region of people away.

Both the puppeteer and his group of sidekicks with the name Technology take part in this horrendous display of destruction. But there are times when they actually improve some people. They polish their wooden eyes, make them more attractive, make them do more actions. Sometimes, they augment the puppet's capabilities.  They help them be the best puppet they can be, for the delight of the audience.

I take a look at myself for a second and I was shocked with what I saw: right there, on the dull tin plate pinned to my chest, is the name Society.

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