Okay, as promised (or threatened), a few further thoughts on more minor points. Was I the only one who read the name of the company as part of the joke? Maybe there's some real thing I don't know about, but "model pattern products" sounds like satire: what it means for something to be a model pattern is hard to imagine (not a real pattern, just a model one?), and "pattern products" is again almost tautological. At the same time, the name is vacuous in precisely the same way that so much of the corporate speak in the story is. You glossed over the bit in the "pseudo game" (another joke!) about Forlesen's state & strategy. He saw he owned all the stock in International Toys & Foods (what a company name!), and then offered to sell "ffoulks" (presumably the stock in that company?) at a price, and buy it at a higher price. The man next to him tries to buy & sell 500 shares in one go, but Forlesen slows him down; he sells the man 500 shares... and then walks out the door as the man gets coffee. In short: he tricks him. The game itself is a delicious parody, but I think it's supposed to be more serious, too. You point out that the fact that it's called a pseudo game means it's not really a game, i.e. it's really real. I think it represents, quite directly, the stock market, which people treat as a game, buying and selling, but which of course really affects real people's lives. (You sort of hint around this but don't quite say it, I don't think.) The above two points go together: the pseudo-game is what really happens in a financialized (when Forlesen was written, we might have said "financializing") economy: people play tricks to get ahead, it's all a game, but real people get hurt. Brandon kept referring to The Technological Society by Jacques Ellul (I think it was?), which I haven't read, but I wonder if it is that particular book that Wolfe was referring to, or if there were others making similar points? I kept thinking that Ellul, at least as Brandon summarized it, sounded fairly similar to Heidegger on technology. I very much agreed with you that the inability to read (at home, at work) was part of the hellishness Wolfe depicts. It's part and parcel, I think, of the inability to find time to grapple with higher things: the corporatized culture smashes it. I am reminded of what Wolfe, in his marvelous GOH speech at Readercon 1 (reprinted in Castle of Days, incorporated into a longer text under the title "From a House on the Borderland", but I heard it live!): "This, then, is the new illiteracy, the illiteracy of those who can read but don't." (If I were to edit a Best of Gene Wolfe, I think I'd put that speech in. Finally, the story made you think of various books; it made me think of two texts. First, there's the late David Graeber's essay on bullshit jobs (which he later turned into a book, but I haven't read the longer version). Obviously Graeber wasn't a direct influence on Wolfe (the essay was written decades later), but see if you can hear why I thought of it: These are what I propose to call ‘bullshit jobs’. It's as if someone were out there making up pointless jobs just for the sake of keeping us all working. And here, precisely, lies the mystery. In capitalism, this is precisely what is not supposed to happen. Sure, in the old inefficient socialist states like the Soviet Union, where employment was considered both a right and a sacred duty, the system made up as many jobs as they had to (this is why in Soviet department stores it took three clerks to sell a piece of meat). But, of course, this is the sort of very problem market competition is supposed to fix. According to economic theory, at least, the last thing a profit-seeking firm is going to do is shell out money to workers they don't really need to employ. Still, somehow, it happens…. …more and more employees find themselves, not unlike Soviet workers actually, working 40 or even 50 hour weeks on paper, but effectively working 15 hours just as Keynes predicted, since the rest of their time is spent organizing or attending motivational seminars, updating their facebook profiles or downloading TV box-sets. Once, when contemplating the apparently endless growth of administrative responsibilities in British academic departments, I came up with one possible vision of hell. Hell is a collection of individuals who are spending the bulk of their time working on a task they don't like and are not especially good at… (By the by, he defines bullshit jobs as jobs that the people who do them think are valueless; he's not trying to tell people things they care about have no value!) The second text I thought of—in this case, not when reading the story, but when the two of you were talking (well & aptly) about the way that modern technological society takes away meaning and purpose, was a bit of Orwell's essay on the Spanish Civil War (which Wolfe at least in theory might have read): The major problem of our time is the decay of the belief in personal immortality, and it cannot be dealt with while the average human being is either drudging like an ox or shivering in fear of the secret police. How right the working classes are in their “materialism”! How right they are to realize that the real belly comes before the soul, not in the scale of values but in point of time! This is not, I feel fairly sure, a notion Wolfe would accept: it's at the root of Orwell's democratic socialism (and mine). But I think the point is apt: Wolfe is concerned about the inattention to religion (the red book), buried under the necessity to make a living. He blames corporate culture. But of course it is not a return to the middle ages (!!) that would enable people to contemplate higher things; it's ideas like Keynes's 15-hour workweek, universal basic income, and the like. (Keynesian socialism is, of course, what all the purposeless efficiency that Brandon discusses (and Wolfe depicts) really ought to be for: we get efficient so we can go live our lives. Keynes, famously, was right about productivity levels (we've reached the place which he thought would enable everyone to work a 15-hour week); he was just wrong about what the consequence would be (a tiny slice of humanity grabbed all the gains and left the rest of us, in Orwell's phrase, "drudging like an ox". I don't claim that either of these quotes are directly related to Wolfe's story. But they are relevant to it: which is itself related to the story's brilliance. It fits in the Great Conversation, as the Great-Books people like to put. It's simply marvelous.