Clones in a Shallow Vein

After a rather difficult morning of dealing with difficult, but wonderful people and all with difficult, but not unusual problems, and all of them valued colleagues necessary to the success of the unit, I ate a quick lunch, returned to the office and saw my friend Sol-Fa, a 6 month old burgundy colored sofa with 2 matching pillows, sitting in the middle of the floor with a sweet smile on her inanimate self, asking for attention and a gentle moment of partnership, and with a book in hand by my favorite author Philip Roth, I sat down to escape my current state of stress and began to read. Several illustrious and thought-provoking sentences later, not unusual for the Pulitzer prize winning author, I reflected on how I wished the people around me saw things the way I see them. A funny thought for sure as I closed my eyes.

Awakening a few minutes later, I did not feel rested. Although I did not yet understand why since there was no real reason for my anxiety and nervousness, the brief nap had left me feeling anxious and frightened, a false emotion with no bearing on truth but nevertheless real to me. My agitated state increased with a sense of foreboding of what existed outside my office door.

With great timidity, I got up, left my office and saw myself down the hall. Not just one of me but many of me all dressed similarly but each one unique as well. Some of my selves were taller, some shorter, some with hair (I liked those!) and some without. Many were women, and many were children. Each one was dressed differently than my normal slacks, shirt, and tie, and in fact were dressed in pastel plastic, without seams, creases, buttons, and anything distinctive other than being plastic. Some were peach colored, others yellow or off-white, or light green or baby blue or any of the various light benign colors that exist. But the plastic appearance did not give pause and instead looked entirely normal. I looked normal to myself and quickly looked at my real self only to see the usual attire of tan pants, shirt with a tie, and sports coat.

I immediately wanted to be confused for it's not everyday one steps out of one's office and sees lots of himself dressed in plastic, but for whatever reason, it felt completely normal and even joyous, a welcome emotion from the earlier fear experienced only a moment before. To take it another step, I have rarely if ever felt the kind of complacent joy and peace that was overtaking me as I watched myself interact with myself in a false sense of euphoric happiness perhaps similar to a drug trip (although I have no knowledge of what that means), or heavy anesthesia before a surgery.

As I approach one of my many selves, I smiled warmly and asked how things were going, only to get a similar smile and a nod of acceptance. I then shouted playfully at all of the clones to talk and have fun, but each one simply nodded in agreement, remained silent, and kept walking that oddly quick paced, deliberate walk of mine. The walk, however, was aimless, almost in circles and strangely robotic but very similar to my own style without the goal-direction and purpose.

I began to talk more rapidly and more expressively as my initial fear returned in a flood of anxiety and concern, similar to a brewing storm, darkening clouds, or incessant repetitive sounds such as a pack of coyotes advancing to their kill. I began to scream contentious statements to try to get a response from the clones, even a raised eyebrow, or a downward turned mouth, or a tensing of the shoulders, anything that would signify anger rather than passiveness. The clones did not react to me at all, entirely oblivious to any external stimuli.

Walking faster and faster and finally running from clone to clone, I decided on force in the hopes of getting a reaction. I struck hard and then harder with all my human strength, but the clones remained in plastic with frozen smiles on their faces as they continued their purposeless pace. Soon the clones multiplied until there was very little space for me to move, and though I tried to escape, there were more and more of them and I realized I had become smaller with little to no significance or presence. I was disappearing rapidly among the horrible, smiling, shallow, but ever increasing plastic clones. It was like being smothered by mirrors on all sides as the clones continued to pullulate around me. I screamed in terror, kicking the evil reflections, but all in vain as my world threatened to implode.

Sweating, pulse rapid, and shaking, I woke up in shock wondering where I was and wondering if the world had ended. I slowly got up from my friend Sol-Fa, recognizing I had simply had a bad dream of some kind, and walked out of my office, down the hall hoping to see anything besides myself. Not surprising, the world was as it used to be and the people, thankfully, were once again themselves, some difficult, some pleasant, but each one unique and special.

I returned to my desk reflecting on my dream.

What a plastic, shallow, and frightening world it would be if everyone looked and thought like me!