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Profession by Frederick Pollack In places with traditional respect for education, torturers like to be called “professor,” but usually prefer “doctor.” In poor places with tight schedules, they are sometimes forced to bunk down in the same rooms as their clients. They commandeer schools, hotels, apartment buildings, monasteries, even yachts, to demonstrate the priority of, the unadmitted need society has for, their craft. When a reigning power farms work out to them in secret flights at dead of night, they feel excitement at being included in a global enterprise, but also the resentment, even cynicism, known to any subcontractor. Torturers think much upon God, and invoke His name at all hours. They are famously kind to their wives and dote upon their children. They could speak with surprising sophistication about the uncertainty of all knowledge, the pretextuality of every text. Despite the distorted image of them held by people who depend on them, they are often sensitive men – intensely sensitive to pain. And to that nameless yearning, suppressed by the demands of maturity and order in the depths of every soul; relating which would resemble an undeliverable letter addressed “To Whom It May Concern.” |
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