Resist: Tales from a Future Worth Fighting Against

EXCERPTS FROM THE RECORDS ^{CHET WILLIAMSON}

(Note: The Zodiac was a New York City dining club established in 1868, and consisted of twelve gentlemen active in New York society. At least two volumes of the collected minutes of the meetings were privately published.)

SEPTEMBER 18TH, 20—:

BEFORE I RETIRED LAST NIGHT, I read a column which suggested that many of the outrages perpetrated by both children and adults might be due to the lack of civility in society. I cannot help but agree.

The final decades of the previous century witnessed a dreadful decline in civility, and this new century promises to be no more refined. We are on every side beset by adversarial imagery. The media poses everything in terms of battles, wars, and combat, and I find myself falling into this modern-day vernacular.

I recall (with chagrin) speaking before the board of our computer company just yesterday, and telling them that we should not rest until we have thoroughly crushed Tom Chambers’ company, which is all that stands between us and a virtual legal monopoly on network servers. I described our position quite accurately, as “outnumbered and outgunned,” but suggested that sheer courage and resourcefulness could yet win the war, though I would also be willing to shift some cash from other Fairfax corporations into the fray. I went on to demonize Chambers as the head of an evil empire who would be content with nothing less than total domination of the world’s computers.

Although that representation is certainly true, I am ashamed of my martial hyperbole, and my forebears would be ashamed of me as well. For a hundred and fifty years the Fairfaxes have conducted their many enterprises with restraint and even temper, and I feel the ghostly censure of my father, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather for betraying that tradition.

Therefore, in order to assuage my guilt, I plan to institute—or rather, reinstate—a tradition which, I believe, has long been neglected and which will, I trust, add a touch of civility and goodwill to the practices of at least a dozen businessmen, myself and my most powerful competitors among them….

Article I. This Club shall be known as the New Zodiac, modeled after the original Zodiac dining club founded in 1868.

Article II. It shall be made up of twelve members, or Signs, who shall be addressed by the zodiacal sign assigned to them by lot.

Article III. The New Zodiac shall meet for dinner on the final Saturday evening of every month, the place to be selected by that month’s host, or caterer, who shall make all arrangements for the dinner, the cost of which shall be equally shared by the Signs. The cost of wines and spirits shall be borne by the caterer.

Aquarius: Mr Frank Reynolds

Pisces: Mr Todd Arnold

Aries: Mr Jeff Condelli

Taurus: Mr Richard Rank

Gemini: Mr Thomas Chambers

Cancer: Mr Edward Devore

Leo: Mr John Thornton

Virgo: Mr Clark Taylor

Libra: Mr Bruce Levine

Scorpio: Mr Cary Black

Sagittarius: Mr David Walsh

Capricorn: Mr Henry Fairfax

NOVEMBER 25TH:

I fear that I may have made a mistake in selecting the charter members of the New Zodiac. Only Ed Devore and John Thornton come, like myself, from old money, while the rest are all nouveau. The strength of the original Zodiac may have come from the fact that the Signs were all members of New York society in a time when society meant something. Through its history, the Zodiac boasted both J. P. Morgans, Senior and Junior, the Revd Henry Van Dyke, Joseph H. Coate and John William Davis, both Ambassadors to the Court of St James, Senator Nelson W. Aldrich, and other wealthy and powerful, and, above all, dignified, men who knew the importance of civility. In my effort to make the club more democratic, I simply selected the wealthiest and most powerful men, hoping to bring civility to those who most needed it, myself included.

But the first meeting was not as I had anticipated, even though I tried to recreate as best I could the original menu served at the very first dinner of the original Zodiac on February 29th, 1868…

It was moved by Brother Gemini to make Brother Capricorn, the member who initiated this series of dinners, the Secretary of the New Zodiac. A unanimous voice vote followed, after which Bro. Gemini observed that perhaps the extra work would keep Bro. Capricorn so busy that he would find no time “to f— over my business.” Much pleasant laughter followed, and Bro. Capricorn accepted his new post.

Dinner seemed to be received well, although Bro. Aries had to be reminded that fruit was not to be thrown at his fellow Signs. “We are, after all,” said Bro. Capricorn, “the New Zodiac and not the Drones’ Club.”

“What the hell’s the Drones’ Club?” Bro. Aries asked, and when informed stated that he had never heard of P. G. Wodehouse. “F— this Woodhead, whoever he is,” he said, and tossed a strawberry, which hit Bro. Capricorn in the left eye, to the merriment of the company.

When the party was asked who would volunteer to cater the following month’s dinner, Bro. Gemini offered to do so, upon receiving assurances in the form of each Sign’s solemn word that whatever went on at the dinners would remain confidential. Bro. Gemini then made a vow of his own, that he would serve the Signs a feast at the next dinner, “like no billionaire has ever tasted before, but which we all f—ing well deserve. It’ll make what we had tonight seem like sh—t in comparison—as far as scarcity goes, anyway.”

Bro. Gemini then inquired of Bro. Capricorn if he might borrow the two volumes of the original Records of the Zodiac, which he wished to consult for further menu ideas, and Bro. Capricorn happily agreed.

The evening was concluded by the relating of several humorous stories by Bros. Taurus, Libra, and Cancer concerning African-Americans, and some ribald anecdotes told by Bros. Virgo and Sagittarius about women who have worked under them.

Adjourned.

…Most of them seemed to be Philistines, but I confess that I was not surprised to find Ed Devore joining in with the ethnic jokes. He’s long had a prejudice against blacks, all the more so since his company was barred from doing any more business in South Africa, after nearly a century of high profits there. And though John Thornton didn’t make a fool of himself as most of the others did, he seemed ready to join in at the slightest provocation, and I expect him to be equally frivolous at the next dinner.

At least they all seemed to be civil to each other, which is a start. And Condelli didn’t throw any more food after my reprimand, except of course for the face-saving strawberry to show that my billions held no greater sway than his. Perhaps they will calm down in time. And perhaps Chambers’ attention to the dinner he’s catering will help to take his eye off his business long enough for us to make further inroads into his market share. I wonder, though, just what it is that he’s planning to serve….

The sumptuous meal was a near-complete recreation, Brother Gemini so informed us, of a dinner put together in 1925 by J. P. Morgan Jr., the differences being the years of the vintages and the meat utilized in two of the entrées, of which he would say more later.

In further emulation of J. P. Morgan’s magnanimity, Bro. Gemini presented the Signs with a linen tablecloth woven in Venice upon which were embossed all the signs of the zodiac, similar to the one Morgan had given to the original Zodiac.

As superb as was the meal (and its setting—Bro. Gemini’s newly completed mansion that overlooks the Pacific), even more extraordinary were the wines and spirits. It was not until everyone had made their way through every vintage and was well fortified with the extraordinary Cognac that Bro. Gemini revealed to us the secret ingredient of the Cubicle Steak à la Pompadour and the Champion de Virginie, sauce champagne. Morgan Jr. had originally served Cotelettes de pigeonnaux à la Pompadour and Jambon de Virginie, and all the Signs were curious as to with what meats Bro. Gemini had improved the recipes.

He informed us in a manner true to his personal style, transforming the dining room into a multimedia presentation area with a few spoken words. Screens dropped into place in response to the voice recognition technology, the room darkened, and Bro. Gemini then told us that although he would bear the cost of the wines and spirits, which amounted to well over a quarter million dollars (a bargain, he claimed, considering the short time in which his staff had to gather them), the shared cost of the dinner itself amounted to eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars each.

At the gasp from the Signs, Bro. Gemini inquired of Bro. Capricorn the cost of the previous dinner, which he had solely borne, and was told the amount was seventeen thousand dollars, not including the wines. Bro. Gemini admitted that there was quite a difference between seventeen thousand dollars and over ten million, but that his fellow Signs would understand when they realized just what it was of which they had partaken.

The presentation began then, a combination of video and still photography that showed in detail the process of harvesting the meat, with sections entitled “On the Hoof,” “Making the Purchase,” “The Butchering Process,” and finally, “In the Kitchen.” Much of the material was more graphic than several of the Signs cared to see, your secretary included, and Bro. Cancer and Bro. Libra wasted both the meal and the wines by disgorging the entire contents of their stomachs into thoughtfully provided plastic-lined silk bags.

Still, no one left their seats, and at the end of the presentation, Bro. Gemini gave an eloquent defense and rationale for his menu selections, by the end of which nearly all the Signs were in agreement with him, and checks for each Sign’s share were promised.

Bro. Aries was named the caterer for the next dinner, and assured his brother Signs that he would continue in the tradition established by Bro. Gemini.

Adjourned.

…Cubicle steak. Ed Devore and John Thornton, my old friends, actually laughed at the ghastly pun. Perhaps New England inbreeding has softened their brains so that they can find such a thing funny. Although Devore vomited at first, along with Levine, I think it was because of the graphic elements of the presentation rather than the knowledge of what they had ingested. They probably would have gotten sick at the sight of a steer being butchered, let alone a human being.

Cubicle Steak and Champion de Virginie, Chambers’ dreadful wordplay. Champion for Jambon, and it happens that Kevin Dupree, a purchasing agent in Chambers’ company, was indeed the Virginia state spelling bee champion when he was in middle school, as his projected résumé told us.

And what awful detail Chambers went into to carry out his parallels to the raising and purchasing of stock. We saw footage of Dupree ‘on the hoof’, both at his job and with his family; we saw the chilling purchase, Chambers himself offering the man ten million dollars for his family if he would vanish forever; then Dupree’s slow breaking down as the realization dawned that he was Chambers’ body and soul, and that if he refused he and his family would be ruined, both financially and in other ways that only a man with a vast fortune might accomplish.

The butchering itself was numbing, nearly as deadening to me as it must have been to poor Dupree; then seeing the meat cooked and prepared for serving, and most coldhearted of all, seeing us eating it in footage that had been shot by hidden cameras only an hour before and then assembled by Chambers’ flunkies.

By the end, some Signs looked sick, some merely uncomfortable, and some were smiling as though they were boys who had been caught stealing candy. But when Chambers began to speak, their faces changed. Though the man can be as coarse as a line worker, he can be as eloquently silver-tongued as the devil when required. He talked about the twelve of us as the true leaders of the country, the new lords of the world, and how our employees, from the humblest we never see to the executives who work closely with us, are all commodities, material to be bought and sold and used as needed. ‘Our intelligence and foresight and energy have given us the power,’ he said, ‘to enrich them or impoverish them… or devour them, if we will it.’

And God help me, I could not tell the others that he was wrong. He had already proven himself right. He has seduced them, my friends along with my competitors. I could see their minds churning, thinking of how they might top Chambers’ feast. Condelli is next month’s caterer, and he seemed thrilled beyond measure at the prospect.

My desire to spread civility has set something quite the opposite into motion, and I do not see how I can stop it. Honor compels me to remain silent, but also to end what I have unwillingly begun. I would do so immediately, but if that is not possible, I have nearly a year until it is once again my turn to serve as caterer, and many things can happen in a year….

JANUARY 27TH:

…Lamb was Condelli’s Director of European Operations. At first I thought it possible that he simply might have contributed his leg and survived, since the cost was far less than for Chambers’ dinner, but my investigations show that Philip Lamb has disappeared.

Such an act boldly throws down the gauntlet for the other Signs. Lamb had been quite important to the success of Condelli’s overseas ventures. It was as though Condelli was saying that anyone can lose an anonymous office drone, but he was willing to make a real sacrifice….

FEBRUARY 24TH:

…bad enough that Rank would discard his two top drilling men from his Mexican offshore rigs, but to further weaken himself by barbecuing his distribution Vice President for that terrible beef/veep pun was utterly foolish. But far worse was his disposal of his entire legal team as a mere appetizer. Of course, he’ll put together another, but still it seems insane….

MARCH 31ST:

…a return to fine dining after Rank’s reprehensible Texas barbecue. But Devore has taken the whole thing to a new plateau—or an even lower depth. Perhaps he felt the only way to top Rank was to make more than just a business sacrifice. I have no doubt that he loved Mindy. She had been his mistress for seven years. Psychologically, a loss like that can be far more devastating to a man and his business than the loss of personnel alone can be, and I could see that Devore was feeling the loss deeply. It will be interesting to see the progress of his holdings over the next few months. Rank’s growth has certainly been curtailed in the wake of his dinner. Perhaps after Chambers is dealt with, I might try a silent run at Double R industries….

Most of the Signs seemed in somber mood this evening, in spite of Brother Virgo’s splendid repast. Though Bro. Virgo himself seemed a bit glum, possibly over the business misfortunes that have adversely affected nearly all of the Signs, and possibly over the provenance of the sweetbreads, spirits seemed to lift as more and more spirits were consumed.

Several of the Signs joshed Bro. Gemini concerning the successful takeover of his company by Bro. Capricorn, who protested that in spite of the technical terminology he felt no hostility toward Bro. Gemini at all, and hoped that Bro. Gemini reciprocated his goodwill. Bro. Capricorn concluded by telling Bro. Gemini that despite the tides of fortune there would always be a place for him at this table.

A full year now having passed since the first meeting of the New Zodiac, it falls to Bro. Capricorn once again to perform the function of caterer at next month’s dinner, which, he informed his brother Signs, he expected them all to attend.

Adjourned.

DECEMBER 1ST:

…his own daughter. They’ve become monsters, but at a woeful cost. No matter how tough and ruthless you may be, you cannot remain unmoved when serving up your own flesh and blood.

And your business cannot remain unmoved when your guilt interferes with your attention to it, and you leave gaping holes in your corporate charts by butchering those who made it what it is.

Nor can that business remain unshaken when your surviving employees are individually informed of what has happened, by messages that remain on screen just long enough to read and then vanish forever from Fairfax Technologies’ now universally used network servers.

DECEMBER 9TH:

The Signs are all, save one, ruined, victims of their own hunger and the things that hunger brought. With my inside knowledge of their troubles, it has been easy to buy them out and swallow them up in their weakened condition. The last one fell just this morning.

The companies of the Signs of the New Zodiac have been devoured.

Discussion following the dinner was succinct. Brother Capricorn observed that sometimes there is no remedy for incivility in society but removal of the uncivil elements. No one spoke in opposition to this remark.

After a brief period of silence, it was moved by Brother Capricorn that the New Zodiac be dissolved due to lack of members. The motion carried 1–0.

Bro. Capricorn, having dined alone, offered to bear the entire cost of the dinner, and there were no objections.

The other Signs rested most comfortably, and most civilly.

Adjourned.