Socrates's Publicist

DEATH: THE ULTIMATE CAREER MOVE. 1

EXCLUSIVE NEW HUMOR FROM THE HARDEST J

WORKING MAN ON COMEDY CENTRAL

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ocratcs had been working on and off as a philosopher for years with­out much success. He could barely pay1 lis rent and was often not even sure if hi place existed, both philosophically and because of its lousy square footage. He Had found some moderate success as a freelance thinker, getting hired from time to time to ponder for an aristocrat or to ruminate for an idiot, but such opportu­nities were sporadic and never paid very well. His career was in trouble. -- The truth was that* aside from thinking, Socrates possessed no marketable skills. And while he was pretty good at making small talk, that would not become a paid profession for another 2,000 years, and even then only on late-night television... As far as work experience was con­cerned, Socrates had very little. He had worked in a Greek restaurant as a young man but was fired after customers, com­plained about the "annoying waiter" who had pestered customers witb"difficult questions" about their orders.

Sometime later Socrates's cousin man­aged to get him a job as a tour guide, but the struggling philosopher's whole "I know nothing" shtick did not fly with the tour company, and Socrates was fired after I only one day on the job. To supplement his] ^incomeJSociates resorted to doing odd jobs for people in the neighborhood, mostly as a handyman. Now well into middle age, he

was facing the very real possibility that he might never succeed. But fate would inter­vene, as it so often did in ancient Greece, giving Socrates a real shot at stardom.

As it turned out, Athens was fast becom­ing a hotbed of thinking, and the timing could not have been better for the aging philosopher-handyman.

It had all started a few months ear­lier when notions began flooding into Greece from Phoenicia by way of the mer­chant brooding class. When some of the more obsessive Greeks-got hold of-these -notions, they turned them into full-fledged thoughts. Soon people began thinking in groups, and these thinking groups became "schools of thought." And that's when things really started to pick up.

First came the Sophists, a group of think­ers who used the tools of rhetoric to teach virtue. Then came the Rationalists. They specialized in using reason to uncover fun­damental truths. Shortly after that, a third group emerged, who would prove to be more influential, and considerably more irritating, than any other group in Athens. They called themselves the Publicists.

The Publicists were, by far, the least thoughtful of all the new Athenian schools. They thought much less about Truth or Reason and much more about themselves. Still, the Publicists quickly became the most talked about school in all of Greece. This was due, in no small part, to their practice

of talking about themselves even more than they thought about themselves. " While the Sophists sought arete (vir­tuous excellence), the Publicists sought me-rete (shameless self-promotion). And where the Rationalists employed logic, the Publicists used gossip, which was becom­ing even more popular than democracy among Greece's new It crowd.

The Publicists, realizing that they had very little thinking of their own to con­tribute, had cultivated a rhetorical method -that enabled'themto simply attach them­selves to other thinkers. They practiced what scholars call "irrational indispens-ability." It is a means by which one person places himself into another person's busi­ness and then convinces that person, or "client," that he needs to pay him for it.

One day, while he was having lunch with his agent, Socrates met one of the Publicists. This Publicist, whose name is hot known to history—though some scholars believe she was called "Jacide"— had become one of the most powerful Publicists in all of Athens.

Jackie approached Socrates as he was pondering his kebab. She told him that she was a "big fan." Socrates, still chew­ing, was flattered.

"Why don't we do lunch?" said Jackie.

" 'Do lunch'?" replied Socrates. "But a person can only 'eat' lunch, no?"

"Well,only (continued on page 111)

SOCRATES

(continued from page 58) if that person is not in show business," Jackie responded.

At this Socrates and his agent smiled and nodded.

And before he could fully swallow, much less comprehend, his kebab, Socrates had made an appointment to do lunch with Jackie.

Unlike Socrates, Jackie had already become a star in her field. She was already known for being one of the shallowest thinkers in all of Greece. And now she was so busy she could hardly get through a conversation without being interrupted by one of the many mes­sengers she constantly had coming and going. In feet, Jackie was one of the first people to use "messenger waiting," which enabled her to

have several messen­gers going at the same time. (This was a prac­tice many Publicists employed in order to make themselves seem more important to pro­spective clients.)

A week later Socrates met Jackie for lunch. As they spoke she told him several times that she thought he was "amazing!" In fact, after just about any­thing Socrates said, Jackie responded with "amazing!" sometimes changing the inflection to "uh-mayzing!"

Socrates was charmed.

Jackie went on and on about how much she admired Socrates and his "unique perspec­tive" and told him how she loved his "whole question thing."

To this Socrates replied, "What do you mean?"

"Exactly!" Jackie responded. "That's what I'm talking about. Uhh-mayyzing!"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Socrates, clearly

flattered and completely disarmed.

"Well, I do," she replied. "You are fantastic. Everyone needs to know how fantastic you are. You have to let me help you. People need to know about Socrates and his question thing."

By the time the conversation was over, the Publicist had convinced Socrates that he needed to work with her. But when she told him how much Publicity would cost, Socrates began to have second thoughts. But then Jackie explained that she had already sent several messengers out on his behalf, and therefore, technically, she and Socrates were already working together.

Socrates became philosophical. He asked himself, Is man essentially good, despite hir­ing someone to promote him? And then he asked himself, Do I want to go back to doing odd jobs for people in the neighborhood?

And with that he decided to give the whole Publicist thing a shot.

Jackie got right to work, promising Socrates that she would make him famous. "We're going to create the Socrates 'brand,'" she explained. "Socrates is not just a person or a philosophy. It's an industry, and that's how we will sell you."

First, she convinced Socrates to lose his last name.

"Socrates Pappandreopoulos is too clunky for people," she told him. Your name should be simple and catchy, and it should tell people that you are a hot philosopher who seeks truth and does it with his own cool question method."

Socrates suggested "Socrates Truth" as a stage name for himself.

"Nah, too on the head," responded Jackie.

Then Socrates pitched "Socrates?" as a stage name.

"Nah," she countered. "That makes you sound unsure of yourself. You should just be 'Socrates.' It's direct. It's strong. And it has a good ring to it."

And from then on Socrates was billed as "Socrates."

Jackie's instincts proved right. Overnight, Socrates became a trendsetter. Other philoso­phers, including Plato and Aristotle and Gus, quickly followed suit, dropping their last names too. And for centuries after that there would be countless imitators, including Voltaire, Michel­angelo and, much later, Cher.

Jackie continued to promote Socrates. She got him booked at parties. I le worked at wed­dings. She promoted him at local schools and in the Agora. Socrates suddenly found himself thinking all over Athens and often in front of large crowds. His career was flourishing more

than he could ever have imagined. At the same time, though, he felt a creeping emptiness. As he spent more and more time searching for publicity, he spent less and less time searching for truth. And with all his public appearances, Socrates was becoming overexposed.

He was also spending a lot of money. In addition to paying his agent and now his Pub­licist, Socrates was paying an Empiricist, a Monist and a Stylist as well, all of whom were recommended by Jackie.

Socrates was getting uncomfortable. He scheduled a meeting with Jackie. This time they "grabbed" lunch, as both had become even bus­ier and more entrenched in show business.

At lunch Socrates voiced his misgivings.

"Should I be doing all of this?" he asked.

"I mean, is the unexamined life even

worth ¦"

"Are you being serious?" interrupted Jackie. "Do you want to be a star philoso­pher or do you want to go back to wait­ing tables?"

Jackie was one of the few people who really knew how to handle Socrates, usually by cutting him off and answering his ques­tions with a question of her own. And, as always, she managed to convince Socrates that she was right and managed to avoid being fired. Socrates listened to her, then paid for both of their lunches and went right back to work.

It was shortly after that fateful lunch that the backlash began. Socrates's constant questions had become intolerable to many of the Greek elite. Still, as his Publicist had prom­ised, he had become a brand. Imitators all over Athens were now practicing the new Socratic method. More and more young people

were asking one another questions and doing it with Socrates's patented smart-assy tone.

A few days later, Socrates was brought to trial and charged with corrupting the youth.

Socrates wanted to apologize to the Senate. He knew his constant public appearances had angered a lot of people. So he prepared a speech for the trial and called it "The Apology." But moments before he was scheduled to appear before the Senate, he received a message back­stage. It was from Jackie. She wanted to talk with him. A minute later she appeared.

"You can't do this," she pleaded.

"Do what?"

"Apologize. That's what everyone expects you to do. If you do that, then there will be no surprise, no twist, and without that there will be no story. And with no story, there's no career, Socrates."

"But what if they find me guilty?"

"That's exactly what you want! Go out there and surprise them. Throw the charges back in their faces. Let them find you guilty. It will get people talking. And if they offer you exile, don't take it. Go for death! What you need to do is the most extreme, unex­pected thing you can think of."

"Really?" the confused philosopher asked.

"Yes! This is your chance to make real head­lines, Socrates. Trust me. And don't worry about the sentence they give you. I'll take care of it. I know so many people in the Senate, I can easily spin it so that you won't have to die or whatever else they threaten you with."

Socrates thought for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yeees! Trust me. It'll be amaaazing!"

A few minutes later, Socrates found him­self standing before the Senate delivering his, now infamous, final speech. Following his Pub­licist's advice, the overexposed philosopher defied the Senate and declared to them and to his fellow Athenians that he would opt for death by drinking hemlock. And sure enough, everyone who heard him was stunned.

Socrates finished his speech and returned to his cell. Awaiting his official sentence, he was eager to see Jackie and bask in the glow of a job well done.

But his Publicist was nowhere to be found.

It seems that, unbeknownst to Jackie, Socrates was out of money. With all of the commissions he was paying to his represen­tation, including his agent, manager, tour manager, stylist and various support staff, and now with attorney's fees on top of that, he was broke. Jackie had only now discovered this

fact when her billing department informed her that her philosopher client was way behind in paying commission.

As his execution date approached, Socrates sent messenger after messenger to Jackie. None of his messages were returned. Jackie had officially dropped him as a client. Finally, confused, frustrated and exhausted, Socrates prepared himself for the end. Surrounded by prison guards, he took the poison-filled chalice and raised it to his lips. Just then one of the guards looked at Socrates and said, "So what happened to your Publicist?"

Socrates looked at the guard and replied, "Publicist? Don't get me started." The room fell silent for a moment. Then Socrates, with great profundity whispered, "And where the hell is my agent?"

And with that, Socrates Pappandreopou-los, philosopher, handyman and overexposed media icon, drank the hemlock and took his last breath.

Epilogue:

After his death, Socrates did indeed become quite famous. Of course, he was dead at that point, so it didn't really do much for him. On the other hand, it did wonders for his Publicist. Jackie went on to work with Aristotle, Pericles and an array of other local celebrities before marrying a marble tycoon and settling down in the posh neighborhood just beyond the Acropolis.

From This Is a Book by Demetri Martin, published by Grand Central Publishing in April.