Who Will Run the Slop Factory When We’re Gone?
No one has much noticed, but the world actually ended
An Interview
No one has much noticed, but the world actually ended, and quite some time ago. Can you believe that? No, right? But I’m telling you, it’s the truth. I like to take that as a testament to the remarkable work our team has been able to accomplish. To replace a living, green planet with slop and have none, or only very few, amongst its dominant species notice, that’s a rare accomplishment. Even we, professionals that we are, don’t often pull it off so cleanly as that every time. Hence the banners.
Yes, we celebrated. There was pizza, too. We like to play hard, but then we get back to work.
It’s a tireless job. I won’t lie to you. Do you think you can handle that? There is no end to it. Let me ask you, have you ever watched a desolate lot? I mean, really sat and watched a real shit hole piece of land? Maybe some place covered in concrete and salt and sand, or some old bombed out field, a polluted and abandoned factory, a mined out mountain, or even some irradiated testing site? It doesn’t matter what you do to it. The green world comes creeping back the moment you turn your head. She’s a tireless old girl. We must remain ever vigilant.
I’ll tell you, even in the time it took for the team to scarf down a couple hot pizza pies, seedlings took root, minds became enlightened, relationships formed.
Life, uhh, well, you know.
Still, we were forced to stay late into the night making up for our brief lapse, slopifying entirely new, burgeoning ecosystems. That’s not what every day looks like, but I won’t lie to you and tell you it never happens. That is why we are looking for someone with commitment. With a constitution of steel. Because this position isn’t for just anybody. I see here that you’ve seen combat and that you’ve worked in the oil field. That’s good because you will see death here, and we want a man who is able to handle himself.
Do you know where slop comes from?
Yes, that’s right. Not everyone knows that.
A lot of people may be surprised to hear this coming from me, but I do have a heart and of course I think it is a crying shame that the crude substance slop is derived from can only be formed by mass death. It’s certainly not the way I would have designed things were I the creator of the universe, but, hey, God works in mysterious ways, as His befuddled followers must so often remind one another. . . I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t joke about such things, not in this day and age. People are so touchy, and this is an interview, of course. Believe me, your personal beliefs are your own, whatever they may be, and they will be respected here.
That’s just a little joke we have. I didn’t mean nothing by it.
Not offended? That’s good. Good man. Tough skin. That’s what we like.
So yes, anyway, it is a fact that our beloved slop has rather obscene origins. We don’t exactly boast about that part, but it’s true and in order to fuel our operation much of the world must be kept as a standing reserve for the gristmill. I see that doesn’t phase you, or if it does you keep it well hidden. Well, if that does give you trouble, let this be some consolation: we don’t exempt ourselves from the process. Only our investors hold that privilege. We are as much a part of the lottery system as the rest of the planet. I can see you had some understanding of that already. Very good. Not everyone handles this part of the interview so calmly.
Stoicism? Yes, I am familiar though I am not committed to the practice myself. I understand it is having something of a moment. If it brings clarity of mind in difficult situations, then you will be all the better for it here, for it is the case, whether you take this position or not, that you are a number in a vast seriality, and one day your ticket will be drawn. A perk of this job is, until that time comes, you can have the honor of playing witness to those who go before you.
While it is, of course, tragic to watch, it is also awe-inspiring to see a centuries old being turn from a pine tree into timber with the flick of a switch. It is that moment of conversion, much more so than the timber in itself, that powers our industry.
The old timers talk about the demented majesty of a Whale becoming oil, although you don’t see that one so much anymore. Still, even the smallest transmutation is enough to send shivers of ecstasy through our most veteran members of the team. I’ll take you down to the processing room to show you before we get out of here, so that you can experience it firsthand. Afterwards you will understand why we have begun filtering the phenomenon so that on screen we see nothing more than a 1 turn to a 0. It has made it so much easier on our team, and keeps out the perverts who once flocked to this factory for the sick joy they derived from watching the process. It’s all very professional now. Just business.
In a way, it’s actually a cleaner process than the messy everything-eats-everything world that nature devised. Especially now that it has all been rather automated. The algorithm decides. That is the other part of the joke I was referring to earlier. Around here we like to say the algorithm works in mysterious ways. There are t-shirts. We’ll get you one, if you’d like. I know, I know it’s probably in bad taste, but my team has to put up with a lot of stress, and if a little bit of gallows humor helps relieve that then I will not be the one to take it away. I’m not some braindead jackass, but political correctness does have its limits, you have to admit.
That’s just the kind of atmosphere we run in here. What do you say, think you can hang with the big dogs?