A tantalised Pontifex

 

It looks that Big Mouth Larry is seriously taking the challenge we suggested him some days ago.

As a matter of fact, he’s paid for some private investigations to find out the pharmacist’s whereabouts. Well, this sort of game is supposed to be carried out individually. Come on, Big Mouth, it’s no fun if someone else tells you where Léo is and you do not find out yourself… unless you tell us that instead of tennis, you are playing this with your friend Mark. Oh, yes, Mark has some experience in private investigations indeed, doesn’t he?

Yet we are puzzled about the point he’d want to prove. Assuming for a minute he found out the guy is anywhere out of legal reach to force him to serve the subpoena at the trial the oracle is waging against SAP, if Law can not grab him, it is absolutely useless. Sounds a bit paranoid, in our opinion.

So Big Mouth Larry, aka The Pontifex Maximus at the oracle, would be punished for his paranoia by knowing where the guy is, but not really being able to grab him, like poor old Tantalus, condemned by the Gods to starve in Hades below a rich fruit tree that raised it’s branches as soon as Tantalus tried to grasp any throughout eternity… which, for us at least, seems to be a heck of a long time, incidentally.

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Three thoughts, one decision

 

When Max Hard’s latest scandal blew up in his face last summer and his company fired him, the third thing that probably came to his mind was something like “So what now?”

(The first one probably was “Oh, shit!”, and the second was “What am I going to tell the wife?”). We admit we might be wrong with the first one; we were thinking of something like “Oh my God”, but for a guy with an ego the size of Texas we would have needed to write “Oh Myself”, and this doesn’t really look well in writing. If we are mistaken with the second, then we guess he guy would not deserve a second of our time as his wife indeed, being as prudent and discreet as she is, deserves all our recognition.

In ancient Greece, when in doubt, a man of wealth and power would possibly do the only possible thing to find out anything: He’d go to visit an oracle, and put the question up.

As a side note in case the reader does not remember from school, the most famous oracle in Greece was the one at Delphi, where a priestess called the Pythia would ritually “listen to the gods” and then transmit their wishes to the visitor. In a totally unrelated transaction, the more gold and treasures the visitor had offered the gods, naturally, the more favourable the answer. From Pythia we derive the word Pythoness, a person who is supposed to be able to foresee and predict the future.

Back to Max, as his former company’s board would probably not have accepted at that time any expense report for a trip to Greece, especially if it included offerings to any Pythia, the guy pulled his recently awarded Palm smartphone, and set an appointment with a much closer and more affordable oracle.

After the customary exchange of greetings upon his arrival, he and the Pythoness went to business.

The priestess had to honor her reputation: “So then let me guess what has brought you here…”, and, Max, a guy whose own reputation as well had to be cared for, proved he had documented himself thoroughly, and made sure the Pythoness had a clear view of the treasures and valuables he could be offering the gods.

The Pythonese was indeed pleased. Very pleased.

Max was ready to wait as long as it took to get an answer. After all, at that moment he had nothing to lose.

The priestess took her time, as it was no simple job to measure and evaluate all the gifts and presents offered by her visitor. In the meantime, Max took as well good note about anything he saw, and drew too his own conclusions.

Finally, the Pythoness spoke: “You have come here for advice, and the gods are pleased to see what you have brought them”.

Max listened carefully, and thought “well, if statesmen, warlords, sages and wealthy men come here for advice, he who controls this oracle, controls the world”.

The Pythoness went on: “Your riches and your sacrifice to the gods prove your fate and destiny deserve the return of your recent past glory… but still, your recent sins have as well set hard stains that will require some penance from yours”.

All the alarms started buzzing in Max’s brain, but he was not willing to show any weakness.

“You can either become CEO in a mediocre company… smaller than your former one, much more resource-less, definitely less interesting for the press and media, and with a hell lot of fewer female contractors for marketing services”…

Max felt a shiver under the zipper in his pants, but found the strength to hold on. the news sound like Hell with a D to him.

“… or, as the most valuable asset of yours is the information in your head, we would let you stay with us and join the Priesthood of the Oracle”.

Max could not prevent this time the feeling of devastation of his. He was realizing for the first time that his ousting was having worse consequences than he had imagined in his way to the oracle. “Mediocre company with no female contractors or priesthood working for the Pythia”.

We are not sure about what did the Pythia understand for Max’s expression, but she was really puzzled. She expected Max to be as smart as he appeared when he led his former company to success.

“Max, wait a minute. Cheer up: This is not the Vatican. We take Priesthood here quite differently. I myself have not missed any company I have needed… and some of my senior priests are no candidates to classical sainthood either…”

That did sound much better to Max’s ears… “But, Pythia, will the other priests accept me in their ranks?”

“Max, Max, Max…”, the Pythia’s voice sounded soft, almost like a caress, while her hypnotic eyes penetrated deep into Max’s. “I AM THE ORACLE; the oracle is me… who do you think put all these priests and priestesses here? Do you really think there is anything here that happens without my permission, that escapes to my active approval, that is not brutally severed if I do not like it?”

Max gulped: “Then I would be somehow working for you"…”

“Would you prefer a mediocre company?”

“No, of course not”, said Max, though he was sure for a moment that his ego was outstretching him. “Any chances for career development?”

“Only gods know…”

The Pythia looked once more into Max’s eyes: “Done deal?, said she, offering her hand.

Max hardly heard himself saying yes, and felt a sting in his hand when he shook the Pythia’s. When the Pythia released him, he found two drops of his own blood signing his new contract.

While the Pythia put his arm around Max’s shoulders, she gently pushed him forward and said: “Now let’s put some Sun into the lives of the people in the world…”

 

“

Mark of Troy

 

About twelve centuries before Christ, somewhere in the southern half of Greece, a man named Pelops happened to win a chariot race that entitled him to the throne of the city of Elis.

This geographic area is called Peloponnese after this lucky winner, so many of his descendants ruled in the cities down there… Cities like Athens, Sparta, Messene, Mykenae or Thebes.

One of Pelops’ son, Atreus, ruled Mykenae. Another one, Thyestes, entertained himself seducing Mrs. Atreus. Revenge, as human an attribute it can be, fell on Thyestes. Atreus had some of Thyestes children cooked up, and served them at dinner to their dad.

Thyestes fled… not before cursing Atreus and all his house.

Later on, two of Atreus’ sons grew up. Agamemnon ruled Mykenae, and Menelaus was looking for his own space in the sun. Young bachelors at the time, they went shopping, looking for the best wives money and power could buy. In their travels they stepped into Sparta, where queen Leda had two daughters. Perfect match, you night think: Agamemnon took Clytemnestra back to Mykenae, while Menelaus stayed in Sparta to become king by marrying Helen, the most beautiful woman ever, according to the record of the time: “The face that launched a thousand ships”, would historians of the time say at Aulis years later.

After some time, people from far away came around to Sparta. Prince Paris from the city of Troy led the Trojan group… and was introduced to the King and Queen, Menelaus and Helen. The following morning, Helen was gone… and so was Paris. Menelaus was left alone with their daughter, Hermione.

More than a mere matter of who slept with whom, that was a big crisis indeed. At the end of the day, the left-alone King of Sparta was only King for having married Helen, and with Helen gone, the whole wealth and power equilibrium in Atreus’ family empire was at the stake.

Menelaus turned back to his brother Agamemnon, who made the call, and the whole Peloponnese backed it. From every corner in Greece, the armies gathered at Aulis ready to sail. The wind kept blowing the wrong direction, and the priests decided Agamemnon had to sacrifice his own daughter, Iphigenia, to get good wind. Agamemnon made the deal, what, logically did not do any good to Clytemnestra’s feelings for Agamemnon.

The wind changed, the flotilla sailed, and the Greeks sieged Troy in demand for Helen’s return to Sparta. The Trojans bluntly refused to give her at all, and the Greeks decided to wait as long as it took…

Nine long years passed; nine long years during which historians’ reports are inexistent, during which the very few things we know get mixed with legend, rumors, invented stuff…And in the tenth year, the story of the Trojan Horse came up.

Troy fell, and the surviving Greeks went home. Agamemnon was murdered by Clytemnestra and lover (one of the brothers of the cooked children).

One of Clytemnestra’s sons, Orestes, killed her mother and lover back in revenge. Realizing what he did, he went insane and fled, pursued by the mythological Furies. Menelaus got Helen back… just to die and leave his Kingdom to Orestes, after the latter had regained sanity.

…

If we were to judge human nature by the acts of people here and there, we could eventually conclude that more than three thousand years later, mankind has not really changed much, besides having more powerful means to access information.

We could find a group of little fiefs that made up together a company like HP, called this way after the initial founders Bill Hewlett and David Packard established the realm… In a given moment, one of their heirs, Walter Hewlett, felt somewhat screwed by the CEO of the time, Carly Fiorina, who outraged Walter as seriously as Thyestes betrayed Atreus. The HP Board reacted, and forced Fiorina out, as a fleeing Thyestes…

The are no public records of Fiorina cursing anybody, and we actually do not really know if she has the power to effectively curse anybody. Still, we do not believe she was the happiest woman on earth when she had to close the door behind her. May be no cursing then, but probably hard swearing was there for a while…

And so went HP for a while…an some of the board members realized they needed a new king… Off they went, looking for the best kings that brand and stock options could buy. And they ended up close to the little realm of NCR, where its board had the most perfect (we will not say “beautiful”) candidate that anybody could have imagined, by the name of Mark… “The head that launched a thousand blogs”, would journalists –the historians of our time, say in the Internet a few years later.

After some time, people from far away came around by HP, led by Larry Ellison (no relation to the city of Elis mentioned before, we trust, but what a coincidence indeed)… They came with bombastic business plans, thanks to which they were introduced to the King, and probably played a lot of tennis and did a lot of business together… and, the following morning, suddenly Mark was gone, so was Larry… HP was left, together with Mark’s “daughters”, Palm, EDS, 3Par…

That was a big crisis indeed; with Mark gone, the equilibrium of wealth and power for the shareholders and the executive managers’ clan was at serious risk.

The Board made the call, and all the HP leaders answered unanimously. From every site of HP, potential would-be leaders appeared, and under the brand banner, they gathered in Palo Alto ready to march against the oracle’s spell. Business winds kept blowing the wrong direction, and the gurus at the Board decided that the Gods in the Cloud Computing Olympus were mad at HP and there had to be a sacrificial victim to clean HP’s sins. The HP Board offered the candidature of Todd in a sacrificial rite, what irritated severely a significant faction within HP…

The winds changed, and the HP armies set off against the oracle…

And here we must leave the unconcluded story, as it looks we are right in the moment when the “Greek” HP starts the siege. Unlikely that the oracle will give HP’s King back easily… on the contrary, it is much more probable the King will actively stand against his former troops… But we will see. At this point, however, most of what we know so far starts dimming in the fog of rumors, myth, legend and invented stuff…

To be continued…

 

Footnote: This post is specially dedicated to one of my best friends, whom in private and with all my appreciation I call “Hermione” for private reasons. She’s been quite a motivation and inspiration for all these posts that I dared to offer for some time now. Thanks, Hermione, this is my way to say it. It would take the courage of a Gryffindor to say it differently, but you know I am much more of a Ravenclaw, don’t you?