I Don't Know Either

I suddenly found myself, groggy-eyed, in a factory. Either the building was infinite or mirrors have been placed on both ends, for I saw no end, looking either way.

Stumbling to my feet, I pulled myself up. Before me was a conveyor belt. I surveyed around me; workers were sparsely scattered throughout the factory. Perchance that it was an assembly line, but one in which each item travelled a few hundred metres to the next worker. Inefficient design with such limited workers, I mused to myself, although empirically my brain registered that there must be an infinite number of workers, if what I see is any good approximation of the number of workers per unit area.

Unless, of course, mirrors have been placed on both ends. But for some reason my senses and perceptive abilities lagged like that of a good aged computer associated with William Doors. Excuse me. Gates. Man what is wrong with me…

My legs temporarily weakened, and in a reflex arc my arm shot out for the nearest object to support my body, which happened to be the conveyor belt. Lucky for me that it was travelling at a surprisingly low velocity. Adds to the inefficient design, I guess. Inches from my hand was a book titled…Da…Das Kay-pi…Das Kapital. However you pronounce it. Sounded familiar…chess book? No… that was Mine System by Capablanca…wait that’s not right. Shaking my head, I threw the book back on the inefficient conveyor, watching it inch slowly towards infinity. Unless, of course, mirrors have been placed on both ends. Ow my brain hurts.

I awoke again. A group of workers surrounded me. Surprised, I stood up. I was still in the factory. One of the workers came up to me and explained in Russian that I was struck in the head by Michelangelo’s David statue. I nodded, although I stopped to think how I suddenly understood Russian. David Statue?! And I turned. Sure enough, it was there standing, life-sized, on the conveyor belt. But it doesn’t fit…the conveyor is too small. Ahh nothing makes sense. I knew what was going on. Aha! I am dreaming! But I just woke up. Unless mirrors have been placed on both ends. I got up and walked away, leaving the group of Dutch workmen behind in confusion.

I staggered down the corridor towards the mirror. Unless the factory was infinite. I caught up to the David statue, and then Das Kapital, unlike what Xeno told me. Suddenly a worker picked up Das Kapital and started ironing it. Don’t ask me…he just had a clothes iron in his hand and started applying to the cover. A shiver shot up my spine. I love chess books. Suddenly I found myself on top of the worker, furiously strangling him while trying to pry the book from his hands. He would likely have given me seven degree burns with the copper in his hands…I mean iron, had a man not gently nudged me off of the choking worker. The worker, unperturbed, returned to ironing the book. I turned to the man.

“Why hello. It’s nice to have visitors,” the man said. “My name is Charles A. Mosser. The manager Alex Quickling is not here today, so I am in charge. Touring the factory, I see. Do you have any questions?”

I stood up. “Sorry about…err, your worker. But why is he ironing the book?”

“Ahh,” Charles explained. “He’s an avativator.”

“Avati-what?” I questioned, quite confused. “And is this factory infinite?”

Charles shrugged. “I’m not sure. That you’ll have to consult with the creators in the theoretical physics department. A group of Dutch destroyers told me you were knocked out by David?”

What kind of a question was that? But I nodded. I asked Charles, “Why are you here?”

“Why, I’m an avativator. Undeniably the highest rank in this factory, for all the creators do is just stuff silly things onto the conveyor, and while the destroyers are pretty good at negating the creators, they have not yet learned the true art.” Charles declared in an air of pride. “Why don’t you observe them yourself? The rank of each worker is displayed on a badge. I must be off now,” and with that, he produced a clothes iron from his sleeve and walked away. I saw him pick up an idea (don’t ask me. He just saw an idea and picked it up from the conveyor) and iron it in the distance.

I turned back to the man ironing the chess book. Suddenly, it was just not one book he was ironing, but a whole stack. I walked up to inspect it. Titles such as The New Theory of Economics and The Communist Manifesto jumped out at me. The worker, sure enough, had a badge with a big A displayed on it. It appeared to have some sort of a red circle going around it, and the A, also in red, intersected it in several places. Or maybe I was imagining things, for the circle and red ink disappeared upon a second viewing. There was this sadistic flame in his eyes, as he hacked away at the stack in the iron. Then, with a triumphant flick of the wrist, the iron disappeared into his sleeve, and he walked away, leaving me with the stack of books, surprisingly undamaged. I flipped open Das Kapital. Suddenly, it was as if all the interesting economic theories in there were erased and replaced with rubbish. The book was hilarious—absolute nonsense.

I never knew how I realized Das Kapital was not a chess book, but don’t ask me. I continued my stroll. Beside me the group of Dutch destroyers I saw earlier were hacking at the David statue with axes and ice picks. I walked on. Novices, I thought, although it never occurred to me what they might be novices in.

Gradually, I realized that everything was on the conveyors. Uh that made no sense whatsoever. Never mind. But creators would walk by and place something on the conveyor, and then watch as avativators and destroyers came and reduced (and oxidized. Hah. Wait what does that mean again…never mind) whatever noun was placed on the belt. The creator would look at them forlornly with a sad look in his eyes, but do nothing. Other times a group of creators would stare at the avativators and destroyers, shake their heads, and walk away.

Further down the infinite corridor—need I say, give the possibility of feigned infinitude by means of double mirrors at the extremities of this factory—I saw myself. Wait. But I’m standing here…Maybe it was a mirror. I walked closer. But it was me. I ran up to him…or should I say me. But that would be grammatically incorrect (lest of course grammar accounts for such strange incidents). He was wearing the exact same clothes as I was, the same mole on the ear, and…well same everything, with the exception of that badge on his chest that read A. And then I realized that I was wearing the same badge. Strange. Thought I would have noticed that earlier.

I tried talking to me, but I ignored myself (haha see what I did there?). He (or I) walked up to a mirror. Before I can say anything, he produced a…well it wasn’t really an iron, more like a steamroller (don’t ask me. He just took out a steamroller from his sleeves), and rolled it up and down the mirror. Then suddenly he turned and charged at me with the steamroller. He was surprisingly stronger than I am, which is rather strange considering how we have the same genes. I fell over, but he was already running the other way, flaying the weapon around, attacking the very factory itself.

Then finally he stopped. He turned to me and smiled. I stood up angrily. “Are you insane? You have two essays to finish that are due on Monday! (of course I didn’t know that, but seeing how I had two essays to finish, it was a safe assumption) Why are you in this factory anyways?”

He didn’t say anything, but instead swept his hands in an expansive gesture. I turned and looked. The whole factory suddenly looked ridiculous. The destroyers, the creators…my what nonsense are they throwing onto the conveyor. It’s just not right. The avativators are the most awesome. I had to do something…and then I realized I was holding a steamroller (don’t ask me. It was just in my sleeve). I saw the thought of a history and literature essay coming down the conveyor, but a destroyer came and smashed it with a hammer with a banner attached. Haha hammer with a banner attached. They should call it a banhammer. And I realized my twin was gone, and I proceeded, steamrolling down the infinite corridor. There was no mirror on either side.