"And who is this?", Doc asks.
The screen shows one man to overthrow, doing cartwheels on the floor.
"That's me, Doc. Well, people think it's Gregor, but inside Gregor's skin… it's me."
"And who, in the name of love, is this?"
The screen shows the same man, jumping somersaults on a bed.
"That's me too."
"And this man, is that you too?"
The screen shows me, in my Gregor-disguise, telling the international press (and via them: the entire world) that I'm the best, that we're the best, that there's nobody better, that this insignificant team of losers from Belarus is now the European Champion, that we put the Germans back to where they belong: at the second level, because there can only be one, and that's us, the best of the best of the best, the winner of the Pillow Fighting Tournament at the European Games, the winner of the gold medal, the top of the bill, the cherry on the cake, the crème brûlée de la crème fraîche of the most famous people on earth…
"I plead guilty, Doc. No need to show me those other parts, where I stand on my head, or when I do that imitation of Cristiano Ronaldo, or where I—"
Doc interrupts me: "A man boasts about himself when he knows nobody else will, and nobody will when it's insignificant what you did. I'm not here to judge you, Bugs. I don't care that you drop your trousers and show your naked butt before the cameras to the eyes of the world. I won't punish you either. You're my friend and you've saved my life; you can trust me. I won't tell the authorities. Nobody puts you in jail. I just want you to answer my question: where did you get the dope? Who gave you the G.O.D.-drugs? Because it's obvious that you and your little gang of losers could never win this tournament without success enhancers, and I did all the tests on you and your teammates but I found nothing, so it has to be G.O.D., the only known drug that gives such spectacular results without being detected. Did the Gambino family give it to you? Was it Tong Au? Was it Manny?"
I'm confused and stammer: "No. No… It's not like that. I would never do such a thing. Why do you think I took drugs?"
Doc takes his time to think. He sips his coffee and looks at me, looks at my face, looks into my eyes: "Do you agree with me that this person before the cameras is not you? I mean: forget that you look like Gregor, forget that you pretend to be somebody else. The one who acts there is not my friend who stood behind me during the last week, helping me, covering my back and pushing my wheelchair. The real «you» is a modest person. You know a lot and you have many skills, but never in the past week did you put yourself above anybody else. That's what you do here: you show the world you're better than anyone else, and not just a little better, but a whole mega lot better. And why? Because you won a Pillow Fight Tournament? Because you are the best at playing a silly game that didn't even exist one week ago? I thought you wanted to save the world. You're destroying the world…"
"You don't understand, Doc. The Belarus Pillow-fighters were the losers of Europe. I came, I saw, and I turned them into a winning team: Veni, Vidi, Fantasy. In one day, I transformed those four losers into successful winners, in a unique way, by having fun, by showing the world how to focus on the good side of every human being, giving everyone a chance to do hor best. This is not about me. It's teamwork. It's an example to the world how we can solve all our problems: by doing it together, by letting everyone contribute to the team, by letting the whole world form part of that team.
» This is not about winning a medal. This is about solving poverty, and pollution, and illiteracy, and drug abuse, and alcoholism, and all those other problems we see around us. This is for all those people who feel lonely and depressed, showing them how we can have a better future when we respect each other and have fun. We can achieve the impossible when we do it together. This is about the future of humanity. This is about saving the world. Don't you understand?"
Doc shakes his head: "I don't understand it at all. «Veni, Vidi, Fantasy»? I came, I saw, and I invented something better? Try «Veni, Vidi, Vanity», I came, I saw, and I thought I was the best.
» You sound like Hitler. You sound like you're some kind of Übermensch who knows it all. Everyone just has to act like you, follow your example, and all our problems will be solved. Should I show you the videos again? You are on drugs, Bugs. You don't know what you're doing. Look at yourself. You're doing exactly the opposite of what you think and say. You don't offer the Germans the chance to become a part of your team; you smash them, you tell the world they're inferior and you're the best. You're not solving any problem at all; you're putting all your effort into winning a stupid game, and you draw all the attention of the world away from all those problems you're referring to, because you and your stupid game were so important that nobody paid any attention to poverty or pollution or illiteracy. You don't solve alcoholism; you give people a reason to sit before their TV and get drunk together, to celebrate your stupid victory like they were part of your team of winners. You don't save the world; you're causing the problems that lead to our destruction. You're talking complete nonsense because you're on drugs, Bugs, and I want to know where you got them…"
"But… Doc… Listen…"
Doc takes a deep breath and starts to explain: "No. You listen. I don't care what you believe or what you look like or what you have or what you say. Your acts are all that matters. Our identity is defined by what we do. It doesn't matter what I say or how many coloured pieces of paper I have framed on my wall; if I don't make people better, I'm a lousy doctor.
» You've won a medal for having fun and for being the best at playing a game. Playing is important: we learn from it. Having fun motivates, so having fun while you play a game (or while you study) motivates you to learn faster, like having fun while you work helps you to produce more and better quality. But this is not about having fun; this is about what you've learnt. I say that all you've learnt is being selfish, and I say that all you've done is show the world it's really the best to be selfish.
» There are two kinds of people. There are the ones who care about others, and there are the ones who only care about themselves. On one side stand the intelligent, social people who understand why we all need each other, and on the other side stand the selfish ones, who place themselves on top of the rock, so they can shit on the rest. What you call «success» has no contribution to other people at all. The medal, the attention, the glory and the gold are there, but it's there only for you. Your selfish behaviour is nothing else but an egoistic message to the world: «Look at ME! I'm FABULOUS!»
» Do you know what the worst part is? You want others to follow your example of selfish behaviour. You want nurses, policemen, and firefighters to put down their work and dedicate themselves to doing what you do because winning a silly game will put the cameras on them. Playing will give them 80 million euros per year income, and 100 million followers on Facebook.
» Before your exhibition, the world accepted that success would never be within the reach of modest workers and consumers, but you showed us that even the modest losers can become selfish winners; you gave the word «selfish» an entirely new dimension. Thanks to you, 750 million people are now sitting in front of their TV, thinking: «I want that too…» That's the effect of your acts. Nobody saw those ideas you had about doing it together; they saw how you lowered your trousers and sent the message «Kiss thiss, I'm better than you». You didn't solve any problem at all. Worse: you advised the world to stop solving problems. You showed it's better to be selfish and dedicate all our time to being the best at playing silly games. If you were not my friend, I would think you were a terrorist who wanted to destroy humanity, one who found the most effective way to do so: brainwashing good people to become selfish and bad.
» Look into the mirror, Bugs. Is this the man who saved my life one week ago? You were a modest person who used to care about others. And now? All you care about is yourself, your success, your stupid medal. You've become selfish. The only example you gave to the world is that selfish people are successful people. To become a winner, you have to run on Prepoleptyl: don't show feelings like mercy or respect or empathy for anyone; turn off your human feelings and become the best of the selfish. Do you want me to start the video again? Is that how you advise other people to behave? Anyone who shows his naked butt on TV will be arrested for indecent behaviour, but you, being a winner and successful, can get away with it. That's the example you show to the world: become the number one, the Best, the Übermensch, and you can do what you want, no matter how Nazi-crazy it is.
» Face the truth, Bugs: playing G.O.D. will not make you a better person. This drug might give you some short-time glorious feelings, but in the long run, the success will fade and you will fall into a deep depression. Your behaviour is doing a lot of damage to the world around you. You're selfish and you don't care. All you do is look for excuses, so others will accept your unacceptable behaviour. Don't you see it? The first step for every addict is always to accept the fact that drugs or alcohol are not the solution but the reason for all hor problems. How can you get so addicted in so little time…? This G.O.D. is really the most destructive drug I've ever seen in my life. And I've seen them all, believe me."
I'm addicted to drugs? I haven't taken any drugs. Did I eat contaminated meat? Did someone put something in my coffee?
Doc gives me one last piece of advice: "Relativate, Bugs. See the world, and your part in it, like it is."
I don't know what to do. Doc is my friend. He would never do or say something that would put me into trouble. On the contrary. He wants to help me. But… Doc's on Prepoleptyl; he can't listen to any feelings like empathy or pity because he has no feelings. His point of view is pure logic, without any sentiments.
No feelings.
Doc has no feelings.
But I do.
I felt great when we won that final.
I felt exceptional when they gave me that medal.
I felt extraordinary because Doc's bet on our win helped Tong Au to pay back his debts to the Gambino family.
I felt ecstatic when I lowered my trousers and showed my message to the Gambinos and the European Games organization, for sending that man to bribe us to lose the final. (the «Kiss Thiss» wasn't meant for those 750 million viewers, of course).
So perhaps I am running on G.O.D… All those glorious feelings must have a reason.
I need to analyse this like Doc suggests: relativate and use reason.
I didn't take drugs or anything. The rest of the team didn't take drugs either. There is a theoretical chance someone put something in our coffee, but
1) why would anyone do that?
2) nobody has had any benefit of helping us win the tournament.
3) why would they give us something to make us win, when they tried to bribe us to lose?
4) after an entire week of investigation, we didn't find anybody who knows anything about G.O.D.
5) we don't even have any evidence that G.O.D. exists.
So…? Logic excludes we're on G.O.D, but that same logic, with the proof on video, shows we're running on «something». I have to agree with Doc: this «something» has a strong and negative effect, although it made us all feel wonderful…
I close my eyes, visualise G.O.D. in front of me, a holy bottle of magic, on an altar, full of power. It makes us achieve the impossible and gives us a wonderful feeling…
I change the image in front of me: G.O.D. becomes a heroine… a beautiful creature, leading us to glory and giving us a wonderful feeling… She leads us into the battle against life, shows us how, with her help, it's just one shot to victory. Once we get used to having her at our side, it's almost impossible to win the fight on our own… She's more like the brown-sugar type of heroine…
What if G.O.D. is our motivation?
No, that's not true: logic motivates us to do the right thing, but we start doing the wrong things when the addiction to G.O.D. or any other drug is stronger.
Not the drug itself kills us at the end, but the excess. It's not the use, but the abuse. We can't control it; it controls us. Drinking one beer isn't the problem; it's drinking too many beers and missing the road sign «Point of No Return. If you don't stop here, you'll get into big trouble».
What does G.O.D. look like?
What if G.O.D. doesn't create those feelings…?
What if G.O.D. is those feelings…?
What do I feel? Where does it come from?
It's the battle between feelings and reason…
It's about control…
I go back in time, to that moment when Doc explained to his female patient how she could fight her depression. What were the words he used? I have them on my spiPhone. I even gave them to Tong Au to help him solve his problem with gambling, another problem caused by «something» that took over when Tong Au couldn't control it anymore…
The text file refreshes my memory: «Prepoleptyl works as a full knockout, but only on your emotional centre…» Prepoleptyl takes away our emotions, but nobody wants a life without emotions. We live to enjoy happy and grateful moments. Therefore, we'll need to accept there will be other, negative, moments too. Like liking Earl Grey tea: you can't value the good if you never experience the bad. That's why we relativate. That's why we use our brain and our logic to put those feelings where they belong: not on the high altar like G.O.D., but under our control.
It's not «turning off our feelings»; it's «dominating our feelings». It's «don't let your feelings have too much influence on you». Too much. Excess. That's the keyword. There's no sign that indicates the Point of No Return. Feelings, like gambling or alcohol or drugs, can grow from custom via obsession into addiction. The problem is the «too much»…
I try to think about it clearly, with reason: it's not the alcohol or the drugs or the gambling that creates excess. It's the positive feeling that pushes us towards «too much». Alcohol makes us feel good, winning easy money makes us feel good, drugs make us feel good (as they say, I don't have experience), and winning a gold medal makes us feel good. The problem starts when we can't control our necessity to feel good: we need it and we need it fast. When we have a pill or a bottle or a simple act available, with the experience that this pill or bottle gives us happiness, we don't think. We just take…
We don't think…
We don't use our logic. We trust our feelings. We act and react on instinct. Like animals… Like brainwashed consumers, who run to the shop when they see a commercial with happy people…
That's where it goes wrong. Our feelings take over. We need our intelligence to dominate our emotions. Feelings without limits lead to problems. That sounds like «Responsibility is the price we pay for Freedom»… Balance is good. Excess is bad.
I look up to my image of G.O.D. and say: "Thank you."
At that moment, I notice I'm looking up. We're looking up at something we admire. We're looking down at something we despise. Why is that?
On the highest step of the scaffold stands the Number One, the winner, the leader, the most important person. The strongest monkey of the tribe sits on top of the Rock of Gibraltar. It's in our DNA. We want to be the best. Not just good. Being THE BEST is what we want. We want the excess…
Why?
For the monkey, it's simple: the leader eats first, has more sex, gets all the admiration, can afford to do nothing, and has the best life of the tribe because all the others work for him. The leader can show his naked monkey butt to the rest of the tribe below him, so they can admire the only one who can shit on the rest and get away with it.
It's Survival of the Fittest. Being selfish gives an advance for the one who's best at being selfish. All the attention goes to the winner of the gold. We give everything we have as a reward for the most selfish. We don't have money to pay the Rosies of this world for what they do for others because we dedicate all our time and energy to admire the selfish monkey on top of the rock… That's what Doc accused me of.
But, if that behaviour is in our DNA, if it comes from millions of years of evolution… why did Doc call it «bad behaviour»? I even agree with him. I behaved badly. That was not «me». I'm not a monkey that desires to be on the top of the rock. This was a matter of circumstances. If these European Games were not such a huge financial success, nobody would have put me in front of those cameras; nobody would have looked at me at all.
I don't want to excuse myself; I behaved like a complete idiot after winning that final, but I'm not the only one guilty here either: the entire Gambino family ordered the kill, the entire world wanted to see it, and I pulled the trigger. Doc was right: it's not about who's guilty; it's about finding out what caused the problem.
Doc said something else: some people care about others, and some only care about themselves. Rose said something similar. The monkey on the rock just cares about himself. When the president of the country only cares about himself and his political friends, even if they form the majority, we call it selfish behaviour because it's not good for the minority and therefore it's bad for the entire tribe.
Selfish behaviour might be good for animals, but we, humans, consider it bad because we've learnt a better way to live together. We've developed the Rosie-style: help others when they need it, so others will help you when you need it. We're all born helpless, we'll all need help from others when we get old, so we should return that help in the years in between. That's not instinct. That's logic. It's the intelligence that puts humans on a higher level than animals. Our acts give us our identity.
You can't expect the monkey to look down to help you. The monkey on top orders the rest to help him, like the rich human leader pays others for everything he needs. Money (and glory, and winning, and being the best) gives the best guarantee to get what you want, but, as Rosie explained, it only lasts for a short time, like the high of drugs. We have to make a choice, between selfish behaviour for short-time glory, and a happy future for everyone…
If everybody would just help one other, in the name of love, it would be good for everyone and not just for the one at the top. That's the choice. That's how Rosie explained it. When you care about others, they'll give you back what's important for you. But: when the nurse takes care of the patients and the patients only take care of themselves, who takes care of the nurse? When all the others only look up, at the top, at the Gold Medal, at the ones who are running on G.O.D., you can help others as much as you want, but you won't get any medal for it.
Is G.O.D. the lack of love? Is G.O.D. a demonic form of selfish love? Is love for others the antidote?
If humanity gets manipulated by companies and the media to behave more selfish, and if humanity can't resist because we act on instinct…
It's a fact that we learn from what we see around us. If everyone around us does the wrong thing, does that make it right? If humanity becomes more selfish, thanks to following all those wrong examples we see around us… If humanity misses that Sign of No Return… When our selfishness runs out of control, it will ruin our society and, finally, it will kill also the monkey on top of the Rock. Drugs and addiction will only lead to Great Over Dose…
Oh, My G.O.D…
That's the danger that's threatening the world.
That's the terrorism Doc accused me of.
Instead of saving the world, I'm destroying it.
I had a choice between Good and Best, between Rosie and the Rock. I chose the Rock. And I forgot everything else.
The problem is:
I chose…
I could have done both…
…
Instead of showing my butt to the world, I could have told those 750 million viewers to turn off their TV and pay attention to their lonely neighbour, or something like that. I didn't even think about it. All I wanted was to be admired for winning a game. The real «me», the modest one, wants to solve real problems for real people. There are no gold medals or TV cameras or attention for that. The monkey inside me took over…
Do we all agree that paying 222 million for one player is far beyond the Point of No Return? Do we agree that earning 80 million per year for kicking a ball is crazy? Then we should protest and turn our TV off. But we don't. We're addicted to entertaining ourselves… Our addiction makes us close our eyes to the problems of others… And when we become those others, it's too late…
They invented these European Games for just one reason: money. When we stop buying the products of their sponsors, when we stop thinking that betting on games will make us rich, when we stop playing games, when we start supporting, with money and attention, the ones who care about others, together, then we can save the world. That's my mission. And I failed.
I've made a mistake.
I should be realistic. I can't change the past. I have a future to take care of. I have to understand the reason why, so I can do my best to avoid making the same mistake again, and I have to do my best to undo the damage I caused. That's my responsibility.
I'm getting there.
It's not about having fun and being entertained; it's about forgetting everything else. It's not about drinking a beer; it's about losing control. It's not about making a bet; it's about passing the Point of No Return. It's not about having a good time; it's about entertaining ourselves so much that we forget our responsibility to others. It's not about winning a gold medal; it's about sacrificing everything for just one silly moment of glory and pride…
Suddenly I see the light: G.O.D. is Pride…
That's not possible.
Pride is a normal human characteristic. Feeling proud of what we are, what we have or what we have done, is a wonderful feeling.
Pride has a good side.
Pride is not G.O.D.
G.O.D. is excessive pride.
G.O.D. is vanity.
G.O.D. is hubris, leading to nemesis [not those shoes from the brand «All Dumb Idiots Do A Sport», but the Ancient Greek meaning of the word: inescapable downfall].
G.O.D. is an overdose of pride.
A Pride Overdose is a deadly sin.
G.O.D.-ly Pride is when a person thinks she's high above the others, that being THE BEST is better than being good.
Our society doesn't treat pride as a sin. On the contrary: we give all the attention, glory, money and admiration to the ones who demonstrate they're high above all the others. We admire the ones who are most selfish and give them everything we've got. That's not anybody's fault; it's just the legacy of Mother Nature's Law of the Jungle in our DNA. If we know what it is, if we know what it can do to us when we lose control, then we can win the fight. If we don't, we destroy ourselves with our maniacal desire to be the best. We die from an overdose of pride. All of us. End of the world.
We can understand, and we can learn.
We can beat this monster.
It's not good to be the best.
It's best to be just good.
The overdose makes the difference…
I open my eyes, unfold my hands, and stand up from my kneeling position. I take a deep breath and feel how I'm becoming myself again, my modest and insignificant self.
"You were right, Doc. You were right in everything. Now I understand it all. It was, indeed, the drug G.O.D. that influenced my behaviour, but I've found out how it got into my system, and why it had such a destructive effect on me. You've cured my addiction. It will not happen again. You were right: the first step of every addict is to recognise the problem. In my case, that was what led to the cure and the salvation. So… Thank you for being my friend, for taking care of me when I needed it, for doing the right thing. Thanks to you, I won't lose my job, my income, my future, and my life. You've saved my life, Doc. I don't know how to thank you."
Doc doesn't understand, but he's on Prepoleptyl so he doesn't worry: "Don't mention it. You've saved my life, and now I've paid you back. We have more important things to work on. Explain to me everything you know about G.O.D., where you got it, how it got into your system, how long the effect lasts, if there are any side effects, everything…"
I smile and watch the clock: "Not now, Doc. My shift at the Emergency desk starts in ten minutes and I don't want to be late; I might save some lives there tonight. After that, and after a few hours of badly needed sleep, we have another priority: I came here with a mission. Thanks to you, now I know how I can save the world tomorrow."
Doc lifts his eyebrows: "I don't understand."
"Don't worry, Doc. Tomorrow, everything will become clear. All you have to know is one thing: you're the man. You've done it, Doc. You're the man."