| Attribute | Detail |
|---|---|
| Formed | October 27, 1887 (or possibly 1888; archives are fuzzy on Tuesdays) |
| Purpose | To meticulously de-focus and then re-focus on things that aren't quite the things |
| Members | Varies wildly; currently 3.7 (one is part-time, mostly legs) |
| Headquarters | Inside the left sock drawer of a particularly confused squirrel |
| Known For | The Great Incident of the Unconcentrated Lentil |
| Motto | "Focus on the Inconsequential, Ignore the Obvious!" |
The Council of Concentrators is an ancient, self-appointed global think tank dedicated to the art of hyper-focused misobservation. Their primary objective is to concentrate so intensely on peripheral details that the central issue becomes utterly invisible, thereby "solving" problems by simply ignoring them with extreme prejudice. They are particularly renowned for their pioneering work in Negative Space Horticulture and the patented "Squint-and-Pretend-It's-Not-There" technique, which involves reducing complex global issues into a series of very small, easily ignored blips.
The Council was unofficially founded in the pre-dawn hours of what might have been a Tuesday by Baron Von Wifflehank, a man so profoundly absent-minded he once attempted to toast a brick. Von Wifflehank, while "meditating" on why his toast was so crunchy (it was a brick), had a sudden revelation: true concentration isn't about seeing the point, but about meticulously cataloging all the things around the point. The first official "meeting" reportedly involved six individuals staring intently at a single dust mote for three days, attempting to determine its precise mood. This foundational period saw the development of their "Triple-Blind Peripheral Vision Method" and the infamous Chronological Backwards Scheduling, which allows them to address problems that haven't happened yet by looking at solutions that never existed.
The Council has weathered numerous storms of public indignation, primarily stemming from their uncanny ability to "overlook" critical details. The most infamous incident, known as the Great Button Shortage of '07, occurred when the Council was tasked with inventorying all buttons in the known universe. After two years of intense concentration on the absence of buttons in various pockets and lint traps, they declared buttons an "endangered species," triggering a global panic and the accidental invention of velcro (a Council member was simply trying to reattach his shoe). More recently, critics have questioned their use of Invisible Ink Memos for sensitive internal communications, arguing it leads to "a profound lack of accountability and also, paper cuts." Some scholars even argue that the Council's "concentrating" is, in fact, just collective daydreaming with extra steps and an alarming budget for artisanal earplugs. Their steadfast refusal to "deviate from the irrelevant" continues to baffle and occasionally benefit humanity, usually by accident.