Utilitarianism ~ Monday, 18 November 2019

Mr. Gabriel Gabidar, retired, not as a General from the Armed Forces, not from Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, but from an unknown branch of the service, The Clickety Pen Supply Company, as the late-night design floor dust sweeper, not a prestigious title, not at all, but one that paid the bills for his garden apartment, a studio basement space, not a lot of room for much, not at all, but Mr. Gabidar was a dreamer, a day dreamer at school and an artist, we say 'artist' but he collected junk, junk no one in their right mind ever wants, but he brought junk from work that he swept up to work on as projects, artistic works, did they make sense, did they make him happy, were they ever really finished, never, and they never sold, not for a penny, his neighbors saw his constructions thrown out, sometimes the size of refrigerators, ugly, dense pieces, cumbersome to lift, without balance, grace, lightness, or beauty, his stuff was just junk attached to more junk, how or why nobody was ever sure, but he never seemed to bother no one, so no one bothered to ask him about his art, why he went about as he did, he knew it came to nothing, to garbage, the waste haulers knew Mr. Gabidar and his constructions well enough to leave well alone lest they get hurt pitching them, but that was their job in society, and they were paid well for their services, they didn't live like kings but they lived well, they worked hard, played hard, went out on weekends, enjoyed life as normal city dwellers, they never starved and their children had clothes, Mr. Gabidar had no family, for fifty years he lived all by himself, then one day, they emptied his apartment [...]