Originally Posted by edge.

Dan Keith wakes up to the sound of bells, a sound so aggravating to him, that it just made him want to drawn it out by sinking back into slumber. But the concern on his mind at this time was work, for the very act of rising from slumber weighed down on him greater than any of the boxes, crates, and other such items he carried for 1/3 of the day. “Crap. Gotta get up” our young friend reminds himself.

After rising out of bed, showering, and eating, Dan Keith returns to his bed and sits, gazing at the wall. Having worked for a large part of the day, Dan Keith is denied much waking time to himself, before night wraps its blanket around his mind, as it does to everybody. The only thing that really kept Dan Keith from sleeping the day away and doing nothing was work, and his peculiar love of reading, for this character’s mind was firmly set in a literate reality.

But even as he sits, waiting for the appropriate time to start his car and be on his way towards the factory, so that he could punch in right on time, not a minute early and not a minute late, Dan Keith is deciding whether or not to abandon his job. He thinks to himself, what am I gaining from this experience called work? It seems to me that work is a form of slavery!” The voice in the back of our characters mind loudly and abruptly reminds him that slaves do not get paid for their labor. At this point, Dan Keith would normally give in to that faculty people generally like to call logic, and head to work. But today something was different. Dan Keith decided to beat logic at its own game. Even as he sits here, watching the wall, the clock exceeded the time at which Dan had to be at work. He ignored it. How do you put a price tag on work? How do you quantify the physical act of working to increase the profits of a company and yourself? Dan Keith arrives at the conclusion that the company was not paying him for his labor, but for his time. Always the independent person, Dan Keith decided that since his time was being paid for, it must be like a product which the company procured from him. But, he wondered, why don’t I just keep my time for myself? Is their any act which forces me to work? Logic decided to intervene again, inside our troubled character’s head, “You need money to survive, to pay for food and shelter.” Still maintaining the same posture, Dan Keith continues to battle. He countered, “The world is surely full of places untouched by humans or their subservience to monetary matters. And perhaps there are others who feel as I do, that survival should not depend on our forcibly meting out our time to faceless organizations and establishments.”

Sitting here for quite some time, Dan Keith misses work, and in doing so, he decided that he would not bother coming in tomorrow, seeing as how his employers are quite anal concerning absenteeism. Dan Keith, in his new (and, according to him, quite liberating) madness eventually calls his friend, Edward Sanchez.

Edward Sanchez is a friend from Dan Keith’s factory, occupying the same position as Dan Keith. While not what you would call an intelligent man, Edward was fun loving, and he never ceased to join his friend Dan Keith for a round at the bar or a round of vivacious banter. Edward is as loyal as he is vivacious, vivacity often tending towards poor Edward’s public humiliation and consequent alienation from others. He is quite relieved when Dan Keith called him (and he is sure that it is either Dan Keith or a solicitor, Dan Keith being his one and only friend), adrenaline pumping through his veins in anticipation of some new opportunity to have fun or cause mischief. He immediately snatches the phone and says, “Hello.” Dan Keith replies, “Hey.” Sanchez says, “Hey. You missed work man, what’s up?” Dan Keith, in his madness forgetting that Sanchez was not particularly interested in his newfound freedom through outwitting his own mind says, “Sanchez. I have decided that I am a Marxist in the classical mid-nineteenth century sense of the concept.” Confused, Sanchez replies, “Why do you want be a communist? Didn’t Reagan defeat them, or something?” Dan Keith, preferring not to correct Sanchez’s obviously ignorant and stupid comment, states “Why submit your time to an entity which does not have your best interests at mind? Does that make sense to you Sanchez? A mere two percent of the population here in America controls 75% of the wealth, and 1% controls 25% of it. If money is power, and power is the ability to do whatever you please, than doesn’t money determine freedom? Tell me Sanchez do we live in a land of the free when only two out of every hundred people possesses the freedom espoused by the ideals of America?” Sanchez, in his simplicity, is eager to get drunk and cause some trouble, work having exerted its toll on his body and mind, says, “Oh, shut up man, you just need to unwind. Working all of that overtime is killer, and the way you sleep, it’s amazing you even continue the job.” Dan Keith, while not what you would call an insomniac, was fond of spending his time reading, before work, after work, and in the hours leading up to work. According to our troubled heroes mind, he could choose when he wanted to sleep, that period typically lasting only two to three hours. His insanity can attributed to the vast amount of history, philosophy, and literature he read, coupled with his lack of sleep over a long period. In his fatigue, Dan Keith replies, “Sanchez, you poor weary prole, I pity you. Obviously the capitalist imperialists have you in the same place they do your brethren. All you want to do is work, drink, and cause mischief. You are blind to the forces which keep you down, you and your classes scientifically proven role in the revolution which will destroy the old order and replace it with a just, fair, and above all equal society, and the role you yourself very well may have in the revolution to come.” Sanchez, in his simplicity, was dumbfounded by what he heard and thus could not think of an appropriate response to Dan Keith’s jab at his intelligence, so he went along with his friend, as loyally as ever, “Yeah, whatever man, I’m coming over.”

During the period between hanging up the phone and Sanchez’s arrival, Dan Keith ponders the meaning of the word ‘worth’, in the context of how it applied to persons rather than objects or commodities. He looked it up in the dictionary: Value or merit. “What or whom I wonder, determines the value which is attributed to something, or the merit which one receives? Is not the individual the primary determinant in attaching a value to things? Merit is more easily understood, as it is not a function of individual opinion, but rather of accomplishments which can be respected by others. A wheel does not possess an inherent value, but the man who invented the wheel, coupled with society’s ability to use it, merits the label of an important person, genius, or something else beneficial to the inventor. But when I quit my job, am I inherently worthless? I have no value to the economy as a whole, or to the company, or to the country. It is up to me to determine my own worth as a human being, and to become merited. One I have to decide for myself, the other I have to rely on others for.” Dan Keith, not ordinarily what one would call a pompous individual, could still not be called pompous, but rather occupied some middle ground between pomp and humility. His way of rationalizing the world is more a matter of his insanity than his feelings of self-importance, which though he surely possesses, is too humble to act upon yet, for he still has those human qualities of shame, denial, and humility which one is at odds to quell. Finally, our hero’s companion arrives, ringing the doorbell in an urgent way, so as to let Dan Keith know that it is him.

Answering the door, Dan Keith is greeted by a figure of fat girth, greasy complexion, and a smile of crooked white teeth. “So what is all this crap about communism buddy? It sounds to me like you have been reading too much as usual. It’s a bad habit.” Dan Keith replies “No worse than your addiction to beer and pornography my friend.” Sanchez says, “You’re acting weird. Something is different about you. Quit tweaking out. You know what you need, is a nice cold one at John’s (John’s being a rather divvy tavern located near Dan Keith’s apartment).” Our hero now thinks to himself that this will be an excellent place to try and convert the masses to his cause. He replies to Sanchez, “This will prove an excellent location to try out my oratory and powers of persuasion. The denizens of John’s are well suited to this test, being proletarians of the most typical kind. No, no, calm yourself Sanchez. You drive.” Sanchez does not care about Dan Keith’s newfound intellectual freedom, as he is eager to get to the tavern and engage in one of his favorite activities, the result of which, he is confident, will bring his friend back to his senses.

The drive to John’s was passed in an awkward silence, punctuated only by the rock n’ roll tunes blaring out of Sanchez’ stereo system.

During the drive, Dan Keith ponders what he will say to the people at the tavern in order to convince them of the righteousness of his cause. Naturally, Sanchez has no idea of what Dan Keith is planning to do. All he sees is that his friend is deep in thought, staring out the window, perhaps in anticipation of getting inebriated. Dan Keith thinks to himself, “First I will have a couple of beers, so as too fit in to the crowd there. Then I will begin a friendly chat with some other patron and see if he realizes his place in the revolution to be. If he does not, I will be forced to explain it to him…” Naturally, any man who talks with Dan Keith will perceive him as a crackpot, a lunatic, and a madman.

Parking the car, Sanchez is obviously eager to get to drinking. He rushes to the front door of the bar, and swings it open, forgetting to hold it open for his friend. Dan Keith follows Sanchez into the bar, noting the scene, in particular the occupants, both the regular customers and new ones. Sanchez sits himself down at the bar and orders a shot of whiskey. Dan Keith also sits at the bar and orders a beer. He takes stock of his surroundings and listens to the patrons around him. He notes that everyone in the bar is a man, and is especially careful to note the subjects of their conversations. Most are talking about sports or women. A select few, however, are conversing with each other (over a round of beer of course) about politics, in their own drunken way. “I’m sick of all of this political bullshit,” says one patron. “They are liars, all of them. Especially Bush.” Meanwhile, Sanchez is engaging in banter with the bartender, with whom he is well acquainted, over a long necked bottle of beer and a set of shots. Already inebriated, he jabs at Dan Keith with his elbow and says, “Have a shot. It’ll help you relax.” Dan Keith sees no harm in a single shot so he downs it, without a wince on his face. Dan Keith, annoyed with his friend for interrupting his intense eavesdropping on the other patrons, says nothing to Sanchez. He thinks to himself, “It is hard to believe that THESE are the kind of people any kind of revolution is supposed to rely on. Their grasp of politics is base; they care nothing for the events surrounding them; and their minds are filled only with selfish thoughts.” Dan Keith notices a patron of the bar is staring at him. He surmises that this patron is very drunk, forming this deduction on the basis of the patrons glazed over eyes and cold, expressionless gaze.