Andrés Vaccari

COOLING DOWN
Andrés Vaccari (2006, unpubished)

Others collect stamps, train tickets, Star Wars figurines; Michael Mikelos collects entropy. The idea has haunted him ever since he encountered the laws of thermodynamics at university. It’s one of the few things he remembers from his failed attempt at becoming a scientist.

“Entropy,” he explains to the team, “is the sexiest, most fascinating of modern ideas. I’ve always been seduced by its poetic implications, its sense of tragedy and finality. Nowadays entropy has seemingly become a relic in the museum of ideas, only of interest to us survivors of the Computer Age because it provided the basis for information theory. Postmoderns have dismissed entropy as an old fashioned, imperialist meta-narrative to be tossed into the wastebasket with Love, God and the Nation State. But, unlike all those other chimeras, entropy is a scientific fact, a precise and determinable constant. Its truth lies in its staggering simplicity: Energy flows from places of high concentration to places where it’s less concentrated. Things always seek to even out, to dissipate and reach equilibrium. This is the principle that drives every single thing that happens in the universe.”

He pauses briefly to gauge the effect of his words. It’s a small group; only five of his closest, representing creative, executive and marketing. He glances at Michelle’s brief on his desk, refreshing his memory. There’s Mike Leachim and Micall Michelos from Marketing & Promotions; Micheal Miael and Mickl Mechial from the Executive Board; and Kim Micllel, Head Creative Consultant.

He, Michael Mikelos, is Head Campaign Manager for Mylers & Morloch, a vast advertising company with offices in every capital city in the United Global States—well, at least in those worth doing business in. After four decades (but it feels a lot longer, like two lifetimes) of practice, Michael works the room like a pro. He can measure at a glance the level of engagement of his audience, and so far today the signs are not promising. But that’s fine, part of the suspense factor.

It’s time for the coffee trick.

It’s impossible, of course, to collect entropy. Entropic processes are everywhere; they are ephemeral and leave no traces. Any exhaustive collection of entropic mementos would have to embrace the whole universe. Michael knows this well, and he is content with hoarding scientific memorabilia. He owns a rare first edition of On Different Forms of the Fundamental Equations of the Mechanical Theory of Heat, by Rudolph Clausius, published in 1865. He can understand little of it, but it contains the original mathematical definition of entropy, and it cost him a small fortune. Over the years he has accumulated an impressive collection of original manuscripts and first editions by Helmholz, Carnot, Lord Kelvin and others. Another priced possession is an original scribble by James Prescott Joule, an early sketch of his famous experiment demonstrating the equivalence of heat with other forms of energy. The act of collecting is entropic, an acknowledgment that things were better in the past, and that history is one protracted downward curve. Scientists, on the other hand, are concerned with invention, discovery, the ordering of nature—all profoundly negentropic activities.

Michael Mikelos ambles toward his desk and reaches for a cup of steaming black coffee and a jug of milk. This unexpected gesture has the desired effect of disorienting his audience even more. “I guess some people have little regard for objectivity,” he continues, “another archaism, they say, like God or love. But I wonder: don’t postmodernists drink coffee? As they stir in the cold milk, can’t they see entropy at work ensuring the overall, even temperature of their drink? Can’t they see that each drop represents another tiny and irrevocable step towards the final thermodynamic death of everything? Because entropy is everywhere, in the dynamics of heat and gravity, powering the mechanisms of decay and deterioration. In the turbulence of clouds, the motions of the wind… A child’s soccer ball rolling down a sloping footpath… Smoke scattering in the air… The tender coolness descending in an early Spring evening. The Second Law also explains why people’s lives constantly gravitate towards paths of least resistance. Human beings dissipate their energies in meaningless activities, eagerly embracing the most absurd systems of belief, until reaching psychic stasis. The Second Law is present in the dynamics of romantic love, providing a mathematical model for that characteristic first meeting of energies and the long cooling down that follows.”

But what does advertising have to do with entropy? It’s a question Michael has asked himself many times. After all, advertisers have no time for lofty metaphysical speculation; their concerns are which brand of beer people will be drinking next summer, or how to make a lifetime of mortgage repayments appear irresistible. Their waking time is plagued by the pressing dilemmas surrounding fashion trends, the creation of desire, the fickle algebra of consumption.

A case in point: Yesterday Michael spent most of the day in a meeting to determine what color of swimwear would go best with the new MM Motors Michaelangelo, a chic sports convertible aimed at the swelling type A6 demographic—UG$70,000 a year, partnered, no kids (no time for that), goes to the gym four times a week, votes conservative, eats out three times a week. This season MM Motors has issued promotional samples in two colors: mustard green and ocean grey.

To Michael this year’s model looks exactly like last year’s and the one the year before. But he doesn’t get paid for his opinions or judgments of taste. After the usual deliberation with the accountants, the team has opted for the standard and dependable approach: The campaign will feature a languidly voluptuous vixen in a skimpy bikini (mustard green or ocean grey), sunglasses and martini, reclining on the front bonnet of the MMMM in the middle of the desert or equivalent exotic location.

Every year the company organizes a ‘concept’ campaign with the aim of advertising itself. This exercise is known as the Special Project, and usually centers on an abstract theme, like Love or Beauty. Although Mylers & Morloch is the most prestigious ad agency on the planet, we live in a competitive age of short-lived brand allegiances and ever shrinking attention spans. This year Michael has decided to pitch his own proposal. He likes to think he’s doing this for his family, to rid himself of his bizarre obsession once and for all.

“I’m also fascinated by another crucial implication of entropy,” Michael continues, taking a sip of his now cold coffee. “This is the notion that life is negentropic. Animate things struggle against the general trend of decline by increasing organization in the universe, internally regulating their own energy. However, living organisms can only draw their resources from the environment, and this means that life, in fact, accelerates the rate of depletion, bringing the death of everything forward. Life is doomed and we are doomed. Entropy is sexy because it contains desire and fate, hubris and betrayal—all the themes of a grand tragic romance.

“Therefore the aim of this campaign is to celebrate the beauty of life, and make people appreciate the precious and transient nature of this negentropic miracle. It will encourage consumers to pamper themselves a bit—get that tie, grab that bunch of flowers for the wife, make that deposit payment on a new car.”

He spends a lot of time in his studio nowadays, staring at equations he can barely decipher, waiting for an epiphany. His wife Michaela (she also works in advertising, as a creative for Ormloch & Myers) is beginning to seriously worry about him. His son Michel, on the other hand, seems to tolerate his eccentricity with a good face—but then again, he doesn’t have to live with it. Michel often brings back items for his father’s collection from his trips overseas. As an advertising executive, Michel’s work is in high demand, and his father is proud of him. He only wishes his son was also proud of his father.

“The Second Law of Thermodynamics indicates that the universe tends towards chaos and disorganization; that is, entropy increases every time there’s transference of energy. Yet the popular imagination persistently pictures chaos as a busy, swarming mess, a place full of activity. People think of chaos in romantic terms, as a kind of dynamic and creative state of unrest. But the scientific understanding of entropy suggests precisely the opposite.

“Chaos is not activity but rest, sameness rather than difference. An increase in entropy means that differences are flattened out and the energy evenly spread. Things begin to be like one another, to look and act the same. They cease to move and strive. Chaos is not an inventive, lively state, but an inert, monotonous expanse, like a huge cup of cold coffee.

“As you can see, we have plenty of material to work with. We’re a company of Big Ideas. Life and death, chaos and order. Mylers & Morloch is not afraid to tackle the Big Picture, and stay in the cutting edge of creativity and innovation. Thank you for listening, ladies and gentlemen.”

While his colleagues digest the pitch, his assistant Michelle is passing around coffees, pastries and cigars. Michael hates this part. He used to remember things. He proudly walked into meetings without a notebook or diary. But now… He’s losing touch. He must identify who is who, and it’s difficult without the name-tags. Kim, Micall and Michael’s assistant Michelle are hard to tell apart in their short, combed back hair and sleeveless ocean grey dresses, as the latest corporate fashion dictates. Micheal, he thinks, is the one to the right, wearing the mustard green suit, Italian cut. Mickl and Mike (in the middle?) have always favored dark colors, but he can’t distinguish between them either. Perhaps he should just point at them. They have the unfair advantage of knowing who he is, since they are in his office.

Identical smiles hang at the corners of identical lips. Michael Mikelos paces around the office, listening to the reactions of his colleagues. His gaze wanders across the cityscape, the grey skyline crowded with the vertiginous lines of corporate skyscrapers. Although he’s been working here for as long as he can recall, his head often reels at the sight of all that glass and grey steel, that complex network of mergers and partnerships stretching as far as the eye can see. Myloch & Morers, Morl & Myler, Lochmore & Ymors… the bright green neon logos are the only way to tell the buildings apart. Most of these corporations are subsidiaries of Mylers & Morloch, or ventures in which the company is a major shareholder. Nobody remembers who came first, who merged who. But they’re all in the same business, the business of advertising. The whole city belongs to them, the whole world is theirs; well, at least those parts of the world worth doing business in.

He listens in silence, his mind drifting. He collects entropy. Only time will tell. Now they’re arguing. Only time, death, entropy. Mick (or is it Micheal, or Micall?) is raising his voice, saying something. Problems with the budget, the lay-offs due to our recent acquisition of Ymlers & Morlch, risky idea. The others nod their heads in unison agreement. The air is thick and Michael (or is it Mick?) has trouble breathing. Somewhere in those equations. We can do the campaign yes but we have to cut corners. You understand, a reasonable point, we have to rethink, adapt.

It is a competitive age. Kim or is it Micall or Michelle is suggesting they scale it down a bit. They should begin by considering what color of swimwear will go better with entropy, mustard green or ocean grey.