Uniforms

Man as a social being is inclined to strive to be positively valued by his environment, closer or wider.

The problem arises when he uses force to achieve this. Is Usain Bolt respected among athletes? Yes, probably by many, if not all. Some envy him, some are jealous of him, some would even do him harm. But most would give anything to be in his place. But that respect is gained by deeds. Because he leaves his competitors behind him after 20 meters in a 200-meter race. What can you say?

Young guys dream of becoming like him, they train, they try, why not? He has not harmed anyone, he has not forced anyone to respect him. He is not an assistant professor of sprinting or a master of relay races. There is no decree. There are deeds.

But on the other hand, here is strength, it is easier that way. A cop who expects respect because of his uniform and fluorescent vest. Some character who is an advisor to the advisor to the assistant to the deputy of the mayor's coffee cook. Uniform. A Chinese suit and a bright green bow tie. In search of respect. No bullshit.

The doctor. The professor. The teacher. The priest. Everyone wants to gain validation through force. Okay, the priest maybe through a suspended sentence. And the title is just a glorified uniform.

Over time, people stop being Trajce, Stavre and even Blerim, they become moving uniforms. Because without a uniform they are one big nothing. Those who cannot command respect through some natural course of things, with their actions - rely on force, on the law, on the vertical, on coercion. From the teacher in some godforsaken hole to the SS man with a rifle pointed at some Yevgeny or Shlomo. Not because they have any qualities that would be worthy of respect, but because they have a mechanism for coercion, from an ordinary pen to a bullet.

Of course, not even remotely all uniformed people are empty shells. But exceptions are extremely rare and do not have a significant impact on the general picture. It cannot be denied that a uniform significantly facilitates life in every sense. Suddenly, a man in uniform feels accepted. Even loved by heaven. Although this ``love`` is woven into the uniform and not into the flesh-and-blood creature who wears it. He remains just as insignificant as before he put on the uniform. A fairly precise dissection of this phenomenon can be found in the wonderful Chekhov, two short stories, ``Death of a Clerk`` and ``The Fat and the Thin``. I recommend reading them, they are a few pages each anyway, so laziness should not be an obstacle.

Chekhov, unlike some of his contemporaries, was the essence of conciseness.

(Roger Mortis, 114)