THE LAST MAN: Part Nineteen

“Show us a single benefit to your existence,” says the Man from Efficiency.

Even the man from the Corporation realizes the impossible nature of that question, even though it is at the heart of all this. Sweat beads across my bow. I brush it away with my fingers, watching where the drops fall.

“Be fair!” the Corporation Man scolds. His hand pounds the desk loudly causing the judges to cringe and exchange nervous glances. He appears frustrated. “I have not sought to intervene, but the question is unfair, and, I dare say, unanswerable.”

The Woman from Reproduction presses the issue. “In the view of the court the question is fundamen…”

It’s a fool’s question!” he snaps in quick reply.

“Not sure I follow,” says the Man from Efficiency.

“I could ask each of you the same question,” The man from the Corporation’s tone is belittling.

“Are you an observer or a participant?” Asks the Man from Police. His words are poorly chosen and harshly delivered. I can see that he already regrets uttering them, though it is far too late to call them back. His eyes narrow as he cowers from the blistering response from the Corporation Man.

“Perhaps we might do with one less judge!”

“No, no,” I reply, with a casual wave of the hand. I nod to him respectfully. It is genuine, even if it becomes another opportunity for dividing the judges further. “I will answer the question, if the Court will permit?”

“I can hardly wait,” scoffs the man from Efficiency, drawing a stern glance from the Corporation Man.

“The court will not interfere,” he says.

I would reach out to the Man from the Corporation. I want to exploit the friction among the judges as much as possible, but not if it means condescending, groveling, or appearing to curry favor.

“If I may,” I scoot onto the table. It is thoroughly theatrical. The Man from the Corporation seems to be the only one to recognize the gesture. “The question is definitely an impossible one. It is, for one, impossible in that no man can adequately proclaim his right to exist to another. Do I have a right to exist in this society? The question is fully one of perspective, and perspectives are, by their very nature, biased and limited. It is those biases and limits that become the essence of my defense.”

“Go on,” says the Man from the Corporation, covering a smile with his hand.

I am not speaking to the judges now. Their views are well known and unchangeable. The character of their arguments is combative. They are skewed and devoid of compassion, or any pretense that they desire for any understanding beyond their own.

“There is but one difference between us,” I say. “This flesh is nothing, except that the history of man is the inability to refuse to look beyond the flesh, and failing that nationality and the soul. Mankind is a history written of a precious few souls struggling against that foolishness, but it is written in the blood of all those sacrificed to nothing that enabled mankind to reach its fullest potential. Instead we separated ourselves, subdividing the world down to smaller and smaller parcels that our wounded and frightened hearts may digest until all that is left is individual, alone and separated from all others. And now, at the end of all that I stand here before this court, before the Corporation, but also at the edge of history yet to be written. The question is, will the history yet to unfold be written in blood as it was in the past? The answer to that question is fundamental,” I glance with disdain at the Woman from Reproduction, “is fundamental to realizing the lessons mankind has learned from history. But the question that pertains to me, to the vast difference between you and I, between all of you and I, and between my ancestors and all who sought by purpose, silence or ignorance to oppress them boils down to this…I must justify my existence.”


I move from the table coming as close to the Judges as I can. The emotion ran away with me. The world roared from my soul, from something eternal and primeval, fully a character, and assertion of every cell in my body rather than some vague notion.

“Men must tolerate men by right of agreement. You must know that my rights are inviolable, and that no man may ‘give’ another man rights, for if you can give those rights then you may take them away. No one gives me rights. They are mine, and if taken away then they are stolen and that is the difference. Hence the words of Malcolm X; Kill that dog! I have done nothing. This right to exist is mine by virtue that I am, and if you remove that from me then you have committed the real crime!”