(no subject)
The man is led blindfolded into the room. He, like everyone else in the room, is wearing a long red robe. His blindfold is pure white linen and guards flank him on either side. There is a crowd in the room, but it will be him, and not them, that endures the ordeal of the trial.
At the precise moment that I detail this setting to you it is simultaneously being revealed to the man, for they have removed his blindfold. The room is an amphitheater with a raised dais in the center. On the dais is a plain but smoothly cut stone slab. The man is now led to this slab and his guards quietly ask him to behold the audience. Every single person, of which there are several hundred, is wearing the same mask. I can perhaps give you slightly more information than the man is receiving about whence the mask came. It was quite artfully chosen. A random sample of people were picked from across the land. Computer imaging was used to create a 3-D mapping of each person's face; the subjects were told to hold their expressions at 'austere'. Added to these mappings were those of key participants in the man's life--from mother and father to old schoolteachers. A complete average of every mapping was taken, with higher weights given to those with less geographical and/or emotional distance from the man. Every observer wears the average mask.
Besides the mask, every person in the audience has one more similarity--they are all holding a knife. Every knife is exactly the same: stainless steal; nine inches long; with a new polish and a black rubber handle. Though instructed to hold the knife at the exact same angle, these audience members are human and so can't help some variance. Nonetheless, the image is nearly uniform. I forgot to mention that the guards wore faceless masks, so silly of me to correct your image so late into the viewing.
Silently, the man is beckoned to behold a system of red velvet ropes. Though only the skeleton of a process, it is very clear that the ropes are meant to lead the members of the audience, one by one, within arm's reach of the stone slab and then out through the chamber's only door. Indeed, the audience members are now jostling and shuffling quietly toward the only velvet rope in everyone's way. His guards look and, seeing comprehension in the man's eyes, lay him on the stone slab. They place a red velvet pillow under his head and tie a red velvet cloth around his eyes. In his hand the guards place a knife--an exact match of those held by the audience. Having done their part, the guards leave silently.
Five minutes have passed. The man is casting his head around, not quite realizing even now that he cannot see. His nostrils flare periodically, perhaps his sense of smell can capture what his sight is missing. Yet his sight misses nothing; the audience has not moved.
It has been fifteen minutes, and now the first sob breaks from the man's throat--as though torn out against his will. He clamps his mouth shut but his distress is evident. Perspiration is leaking down his face and whetting the stone. Almost imperceptible shivers affect him every few seconds. Now he is hiding his sightless eyes behind his hands. Barely a few seconds pass and he curls onto his side, drawing his legs up and hugging them to his chest. Moments pass, and the man rears up suddenly. Drawing one sleeve of the robe down and baring his arm, he makes a tentative swipe at his flesh. The knife is sharp and a cut is opened up; the man flinches as his once-whole skin is violated. The cut gapes for a moment, as though surprised, before a rivulet of blood quickly traverses to the underside of the man's arm and drips onto the stone slab. Brandishing his arm, the man turns in several directions. He holds his sleeve up so as to show the audience what he has done. Blood has pooled slightly on the stone, and the man uses the hand of his good arm to fling drops onto the audience. They do not move.
The man is sobbing uncontrollably now. He begins to retch and the horrid sounds echo in the chamber. The blindfold is soaked with tears but holds to its duty. The man still casts around, as though imploringly, shaking his perforated arm. Not believing the futility of his action the man jerkingly makes several more cuts. His strokes are quick and forceful, and the skin is not surprised--blood flows swiftly and immediately from the new openings. "Oh God," the man cries, and falls on his back on the slab. His breathing becomes heavy and measured; the sobs are fewer and far between.
Many minutes pass, twenty at least, and the man now appears very calm. In a precise and measured motion he brings the knife above his chest and forces it down into his heart. He convulses once and gurgles a scream before lying still.
The audience members file out one by one, past the corpse--not looking at it--and deposit their knives in recycling bins.
At the precise moment that I detail this setting to you it is simultaneously being revealed to the man, for they have removed his blindfold. The room is an amphitheater with a raised dais in the center. On the dais is a plain but smoothly cut stone slab. The man is now led to this slab and his guards quietly ask him to behold the audience. Every single person, of which there are several hundred, is wearing the same mask. I can perhaps give you slightly more information than the man is receiving about whence the mask came. It was quite artfully chosen. A random sample of people were picked from across the land. Computer imaging was used to create a 3-D mapping of each person's face; the subjects were told to hold their expressions at 'austere'. Added to these mappings were those of key participants in the man's life--from mother and father to old schoolteachers. A complete average of every mapping was taken, with higher weights given to those with less geographical and/or emotional distance from the man. Every observer wears the average mask.
Besides the mask, every person in the audience has one more similarity--they are all holding a knife. Every knife is exactly the same: stainless steal; nine inches long; with a new polish and a black rubber handle. Though instructed to hold the knife at the exact same angle, these audience members are human and so can't help some variance. Nonetheless, the image is nearly uniform. I forgot to mention that the guards wore faceless masks, so silly of me to correct your image so late into the viewing.
Silently, the man is beckoned to behold a system of red velvet ropes. Though only the skeleton of a process, it is very clear that the ropes are meant to lead the members of the audience, one by one, within arm's reach of the stone slab and then out through the chamber's only door. Indeed, the audience members are now jostling and shuffling quietly toward the only velvet rope in everyone's way. His guards look and, seeing comprehension in the man's eyes, lay him on the stone slab. They place a red velvet pillow under his head and tie a red velvet cloth around his eyes. In his hand the guards place a knife--an exact match of those held by the audience. Having done their part, the guards leave silently.
Five minutes have passed. The man is casting his head around, not quite realizing even now that he cannot see. His nostrils flare periodically, perhaps his sense of smell can capture what his sight is missing. Yet his sight misses nothing; the audience has not moved.
It has been fifteen minutes, and now the first sob breaks from the man's throat--as though torn out against his will. He clamps his mouth shut but his distress is evident. Perspiration is leaking down his face and whetting the stone. Almost imperceptible shivers affect him every few seconds. Now he is hiding his sightless eyes behind his hands. Barely a few seconds pass and he curls onto his side, drawing his legs up and hugging them to his chest. Moments pass, and the man rears up suddenly. Drawing one sleeve of the robe down and baring his arm, he makes a tentative swipe at his flesh. The knife is sharp and a cut is opened up; the man flinches as his once-whole skin is violated. The cut gapes for a moment, as though surprised, before a rivulet of blood quickly traverses to the underside of the man's arm and drips onto the stone slab. Brandishing his arm, the man turns in several directions. He holds his sleeve up so as to show the audience what he has done. Blood has pooled slightly on the stone, and the man uses the hand of his good arm to fling drops onto the audience. They do not move.
The man is sobbing uncontrollably now. He begins to retch and the horrid sounds echo in the chamber. The blindfold is soaked with tears but holds to its duty. The man still casts around, as though imploringly, shaking his perforated arm. Not believing the futility of his action the man jerkingly makes several more cuts. His strokes are quick and forceful, and the skin is not surprised--blood flows swiftly and immediately from the new openings. "Oh God," the man cries, and falls on his back on the slab. His breathing becomes heavy and measured; the sobs are fewer and far between.
Many minutes pass, twenty at least, and the man now appears very calm. In a precise and measured motion he brings the knife above his chest and forces it down into his heart. He convulses once and gurgles a scream before lying still.
The audience members file out one by one, past the corpse--not looking at it--and deposit their knives in recycling bins.