One of the defining analytical explosions in my life happened as I wandered by the books at the Goodwill.
An intense binding pattern, deep black, with thick red lettering:
How intense, and yet generic, I thought. What is this curiosity?
Flipping through the Table of Contents, I fell in love.
- The Organization as a Machine
- The Organization as an Organism
- The Organization as a Psychic Prison
From competent and analytical, to melt your brain philosophy.
It was destiny.
Sure, I read it plenty, and it’s chock full of factiods, analytics, and deep rationalizations. Versus gigabytes of occult manifestos, novels, text books, and research papers, I’ve seen no match in the level of condensed wisdom.
The thing is, for all of the reading, and information, and expansive discussion, that first moment, paging through an index, peeking at the outline, that was the moment that shot me forward. Like a blasted cannon that rung my bell. Everything else was just looking down from above, explaining with words that I had in my heart, the minute I gazed into the facets of a gem.
The essence of the tome is simple.
There is a spectrum of perspectives on any concept. That spectrum ranges from the impersonal and mechanistic, to the reactionary and subjective. Sliding between those perspectives, we can see how each is fallacious in its own way.
I’ve always been a visualizer, haunted by the quest for the perfect metaphor, the perfect diagram, the perfect poetry of expression. I had been told there was no perfection, and some might call that poetry, but for me, it was too crass. Now, I could see the beauty.
There is no perfection in expression, without dynamic in perspective.
And tying those shifting views together, from a rational perspective, the most tangible, concrete, discrete layer of it all.