Chapter 442 Seattle Black Coffee
On certain emotional levels, all of humanity is connected, such as the longing for peace, the cherishing of family ties, and the sacrifices made for love. These emotions, emanating from the depths of sentient beings' hearts, are capable of transcending race, belief, and even the barriers of language, resonating with every individual.
The Seattle branch of National Geographic magazine.
Editor-in-chief Jack pushed open the door to his office with a weary face, dark circles under his eyes like those of a panda, and shouted somewhat gracelessly at the secretary outside, "Nikki, where's my coffee? Damn it, do you want me to perk up by inhaling pot?"
The Black secretary Nikki, just like Jack, had also pulled an all-nighter, struggling to fight off sleep while handling incoming emails. Hearing the boss's reprimand, Nikki's full lips helplessly pursed in resignation,
If it had been a month ago, oh no, even just a week before, if White Jack had dared to raise his voice at Black Nikki, or even to curse with words like "damn it," Nikki would not have let it slide so easily, even if Jack was the head editor of the branch. The accusation of 'racism' would have been enough to put Jack in an awkward position, facing a scathing response from the media.
America has many peculiar phenomena, such as 'political correctness'. Although everyone is aware of the deep-seated existence of racism and the fact that the majority of Whites indeed look down upon Blacks, very few, especially public figures, dare to say it outright.
However, due to the magazine's current special circumstances, Nikki chose to ignore the word "damn it." After making a face behind Jack's back, she quickly left her seat and ran to the break room to make coffee for Jack.
During this period, the entire National Geographic magazine, whether at headquarters or the various branches, with thousands of employees, everyone was working desperately to keep their jobs, and everyone was in a foul mood, Jack included.
The National Geographic magazine, founded in 1888, boasts a glorious history and presence. It is one of the most widely known magazines in the world, renowned for high-quality articles about society, history, and the customs of places around the globe; its printing and photographic quality are also highly praised. For nearly a century, it has consistently been one of the top ten best-selling publications in America.
Just as Suming always insisted on the principle of "content is king" back in his home country, the success of National Geographic as a globally known best-selling magazine, even considered as a 'temple for photographers and their subjects,' is not unrelated to its stringent one-thousandth selection rate for photographs and an almost obsessively professional editorial attitude. It has given rise to a large number of idealistic and romantic photographers and journalists. Only works with soul and passion have the honor of appearing in the magazine.
Therefore, in the eyes of most readers, National Geographic magazine represents authority, scientific nature, and a quasi-official status. It is more like an encyclopedia than just a magazine.
This is quite similar to the Guinness World Records that Suming once featured in.
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Just last month, 21st Century Fox Company announced the acquisition of National Geographic magazine and revealed a comprehensive plan for massive layoffs. About a third of the magazine staff were to be cut, even the editors of various branches had to face strict evaluations.
Capitalism has its advantages, but it also has a crueller side. If such a century-old news organization were to change ownership in China, the government would definitely secure a decent path forward for most of the staff, at least a path to scrape by.
At National Geographic, this wasn't a problem—a meager severance package was all it took to send these veterans, who had worked at the magazine for half their lives, rolling out the door.
Without an income, mortgage, car loans, insurance... a myriad of problems would follow one after another, and the bank would mercilessly take away everything you own. In America, countless middle-class individuals have been reduced to abject poverty, living on the streets overnight, due to job loss.
So at this critical juncture, who would have time to care about a "damn" thing?
In the break room, there was a vending machine, a ping-pong table, a row of large sofas—usually for the staff of the magazine to rest, but lately, with the magazine facing layoffs, everyone was too busy to waste any time in the break room chatting over coffee, leaving it completely empty.
Nikki had just made herself a cup of black coffee, darker than her own skin tone, and was about to leave when she suddenly noticed a photo on the coffee machine.
The editors sometimes discussed work in the break room, and the photo looked like it was printed from a computer; the edges had been soaked with water, probably left behind by some careless editor.
"These careless men!" muttered Nikki.
Nikki had not only inherited the exaggerated, fiery figure of African-Americans, but her looks were no less than some of the popular Hollywood black actresses. What's more, she had severe OCD, so she picked up the photo to throw it in the trash. She absolutely couldn't tolerate a messy work environment where everything was thrown around carelessly.
But after just one glance at the photo, Nikki was taken aback, deeply captivated by its content.
In the photo, there was a gorilla in dazzling armor, riding on the back of a wildly oversized boar. From its posture, the gorilla looked ferocious, ready to attack the boar, yet its massive fist was frozen, paused behind the boar's head.
The photo was actually part of a series, three consecutive snapshots. In the second photo, the gorilla's fist had opened into a palm, its eyes noticeably softer. And in the third, the gorilla's palm gently stroked the back of the boar's head.
Maybe it was the photographer's superb skill, or maybe the expressions of the gorilla and the boar were just too rich, but Nikki felt she could clearly sense the shift in the animals' emotions through these three photos. Especially the third one, which was in stark contrast to the first; the gorilla's gaze was exceptionally tender, devoid of any trace of aggression, while the boar displayed complete trust and joy.
"These dumbass men!" Nikki, who had worked as a secretary at the magazine for three years, had a basic sense of judgment and could see at a glance that this photo was certainly worthy of gracing the magazine's cover. With good editorial text, it could even make the cover of this issue. She couldn't fathom which clueless junior editor had treated it like trash, discarding it in the break room.
"Clang!" The break room's door was violently pushed open from outside, and Jack, with red eyes, stormed in, bellowing, "God, Nikki, what on earth are you doing? Does it take a century to make a cup of coffee?"