there’s a zen koan where the teacher holds a stick.
the teacher says to the student,
“If you tell me this stick is real, I will hit you with it. If you tell me it is not real, I will hit you with it. If you say nothing, I will hit you with it.”
the student reaches out, grabs the stick, and breaks it.
bureaucracy is the death of the soul. spiritual attrition warfare. kafka's the trial, which i swear i was going to finish before posting this quasi-review, reminds me a lot of how i used to feel growing up as a young neurodivergent boy: you are made to defend yourself in a game you don't know the rules of (if there are any), but that everybody seems (or at least pretends) to know, except for yourself. rules which you will never be told because everybody is too good for it, but that you will be mocked for not knowing; against a grandmaster who makes them up to your disadvantage as they go along, pitting against you everybody you were sure was your ally up until now, convincing them they are helping you the entire way. and the worst part: you are taught that the right mindset to have is to think "ha, they won't beat me. i'm more stubborn than they are", which only serves to perfectly illustrate them beating you.
after being put on trial in front of an unknown crowd for an unknown accusation, joseph kay manages to take a sneak peek at the judge's alluring, dense law books the next day, when the court is out of session, in hopes of finding out more about this impossible game. in them, he finds nothing more than a crude doodle of a couple fucking. yes, exactly like that scene from the big lebowski. there is nothing going on behind the scenes. there is nobody working in the back room of the dmv. it's all a screen.
however, and despite this, it is somehow taboo and frowned upon to point out that the game itself is rigged, which will lose you friends and all credibility, as if it indicated an immaturity that should fade with age, and as if ass-kissing the game's insane rules were something that commanded respect or honor, instead of indicating the lack of a backbone. in this scenario, even breaking the stick results in you being beaten with it. and what do they expect to get for it? a stick of their own to beat with?
- the judge is not your friend.
it is not "petty" or "childish" to point out how soul-draining, self-defeating, obtuse and opaque the bureaucratic process is. you should not be one of the childlike people to uphold the illusion.
anything you say can and will be used against you, and not only will you be blamed for it, you will be publically and socially shamed for it. the system is not only rigged against you, it culturally programs the people around you, inflitrating the minds of your support circle, the people you trust most, to the point of guilting you and gaslighting you into thinking you're doing this to yourself, and that the consequences are your own fault. you will be psychologically and spiritually punished for any rules you break. if you do not break any rules, a rule will be created in order for you to have broken it.
the machine screams in resentment as it bleeds to death. hell is an infinite queue. the car is on fire, and there's no driver at the wheel.
- and yet, why do we create this illusion for ourselves?
the word "kafkaesque" describes not just a hell of tedium, but one we bring onto ourselves, simply because we see no other way forward. we love the security in thinking there's somebody behind the counter who knows things better than we do. human beings love having things under control, and there's nothing safer than being told what to do. why should i speak up against this? i don't know anything about the system. why don't we just leave it to the experts? the bureaucratic beast is immortal as long as it keeps breathing. it can never stop moving, or it stops being profitable. the procedures can never end.
you might think the machine is broken. you might have a myriad of suggestions, might even spend serious time and energy on complaining to the ones in charge or thinking up an improvement to the system. how to improve on perfection? the machine is working as intended. it's the same principle behind a perpetual war economy. you cannot let the proceeding end, ever. you want to keep the people unsatisfied for as long as possible, or the machine stops working. you have to let them be convinced that it's broken, so that they waste their times worrying about how to improve it rather than how best to dismantle it from the bottom. and most of all, you have to keep the measly carrot dangling, ever out of reach.
we all have a carrot, no matter how difficult it may be to find that of one particular person. we must make it a point to become untethered, independent from as many made-up carrots as they want you to follow. you must grow capable of being satisfied with the bare essentials, so as to have the smallest possible need to depend on any government official to feed you out of the "good will of their heart".
do not give them ANY margin. do not take them up on their fight. break the cycle of violence. let the judge humiliate you, let those you called your family and friends laugh at you, and be at spiritual peace.