THE MISSING BLUEPRINTS
A Parable
A Parable
The community of Anomia was in an uproar. Everyone insisted, "Something must be done!" The trouble was, nobody was really sure about just what to do. You see, they were all gathered together to build a City, but all agreed that there were no blueprints. True, the Architect had laid out the blueprints, long ago — most everyone conceded that point. And everyone even had a copy in his own language. They read this book — The Builder's Manual — every day. But that's where all agreement ended, and the building program had come to a halt.
Some said the Manual was outdated — after all, this was to be a modern City, and the Manual had been written in the days before freeways; surely it could be of no contemporary usefulness. Moreover, they insisted, even when it was first written, it had a lot of structural errors. (This point was amply demonstrated by referring to the fact that many of the specific instructions contained provisions which all Anomians of every party absolutely opposed.) "The Manual is wrong," they declared. "Nobody in his right mind wants the City to look like that!"
But others were not so bold. "After all," they countered, "those blueprints may have worked in ages past. But we are in a New Age. Surely, if we were to build the City according to those old blueprints, we would have nothing less than an Architectocracy! And nobody wants that. Not here in Anomia."
An offshoot of this group took the argument even further: "Therefore, the City cannot be built! There are no blueprints; there is no plan to which we are all agreed. We are wasting our time trying to build one. If the Architect wants a City, let him come back and build it himself!" And they dropped their tools to the ground. They did not, however, abandon the project entirely. They began holding weekly conferences to chart what would happen when the Architect returned someday, mapping out the beauties of the future City — plus a few minor alterations of their own — and singing their theme song: "There's A City In My Heart." Whenever a passing stranger would point out that the Architect had commanded them to build the City before he returned, they would immediately dismiss him as a raving "Manualist" or an "Architectocrat."
Finally, some younger Anomians put forth some new, refreshing ideas. "We agree with you all about the blueprints," they said. "It is indeed surprising that in a supposedly all-encompassing Manual such as ours, with 1189 chapters, that there are no blueprints at all. But there are none — of that we may be sure. On the other hand, we really should build a City. The Architect says so." And they quoted stirring passages from the Manual to prove it.
"But we still have no blueprints," someone complained. "How can we build a City without blueprints?"
"I'm so glad you asked," replied an authoritative-sounding voice. A hush fell over the crowd as the speaker was recognized. I t was none other than Dr. DeMand Side, a distinguished professor at the School of Manual Arts, an expert in Blueprint Theory. (He was also known by his associates as an avid collector of Candy Canes and old German Marks, but he had never publicly admitted to being either a Canesian or a Marksist.) Dr. Side informed the audience that the reason for their dilemma was that everyone had ignored the Supplement to the Manual — that the missing blueprints had been in there all the time. "The Supplement," he went on, "was composed by some junior architects around 1848, and it has since proved very useful in building Cities."
"Wait a minute!" cried an old man. "I know what you're talking about! That's no 'supplement' at all. Those architects wrote that in order to replace the Manual. They had no intention of supplementing it!"
Dr. Side sighed heavily. Some of his followers (called the Other Siders) moved menacingly in the old man's direction with clubs, but Dr. Side stopped them. "Now is not the time for violence," he whispered. "Now is the time for the Gentle Nudge." And so, as the Other Siders gently nudged the old man to the edge of the crowd, Dr. Side graciously answered his objection. "Yes, it's true. The men who wrote the Supplement hated the Manual, and wanted to replace it. They were very wrong, and I certainly do not mean to condone any of their actions. Nevertheless, their practical programs harmonize very nicely with the Manual itself, especially if we disregard the outdated parts. Has any Anomian come up with a better plan? And what alternative is there? Surely, none among us would choose to implement the actual instructions in the Manual! That would be barbaric!"
Everyone nodded. The professor certainly had a point there. Sensing his advantage, Dr. Side held up a copy of his recent book, City Builders in an Age of Cave Dwellers, and proclaimed: "The answers are all in this book! The blueprints are no longer missing!"
The crowd went mad. At last, here were answers! Here was a way to build the City without going by the Manual — and without seeming to reject the Manual, either. Thousands of Dr. Side's books were sold. And while it didn't quite live up to its reputation (it didn't actually have detailed blueprints either — just a general theme in terms of the 1848 Supplement), it accomplished a lot. It made the Anomians feel guilty for the way they had been building in the past. It showed how those parts of the City that had been built should be torn down. It demonstrated that the City had been built at the expense of the Cave-Dwellers (well... it didn't exactly demonstrate that point, but it repeated it so many times that everyone believed it). And, from the Anomian point of view, it was irrefutable.
The people of Anomia gladly gave Dr. Side and the Other Sidrs the power to do whatever they wanted. And he, in turn, provided everyone with a lifetime supply of Candy Canes and German Marks. Some began complaining that the Canes didn't digest well, and that the Marks had no exchange value; but trouble-makers were quickly silenced. More people began reading the Supplement; and the Manual (if it was read at all) was reserved for reading at funerals, where people talked of the City in the Sky. And there were many funerals, more than in the old days; but the Other Siders explained that it was only because they were not destroying the City quickly enough. "Besides," Dr. Side would say — quoting one of his mentors — "you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs."
So the work went on, as the clouds gathered over their heads. The work went on, as thunder began to roll. The work went on, until the storm finally broke; until the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon Anomia; and it fell: and great was the fall of it. And the Anomians hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the mountains (for by now they were all Cave Dwellers); and said to the mountains and rocks, "Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Architect; for the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?"
But there was one final surprise in store for the Anomians. It came after the End, when Dr. Side removed his mask.
