The Long and Winding Bloarg
What a week its been!
What have I done?
(though enumerated the numbers do not signify anything):
1. Flipped off a group of undergraduates crossing lumpkin against my green light (and perpendicular to it) while driving Holly and I to lunch.
2. Successfully completed my primer ensayo for my fonética y fonología españolas class, and was quite pleased with it.
3. Quite obnoxiously and verbosely pissed all over the comments page of a fellow blogger whom I've never met, and though I apologized for my manner I still stand by the matter (the essence) of what I wrote.
4. Told my students (en español of course) that I think Pat Robertson is crazy.
5. Managed to eat lunch with Holly more often than not.
6. I could go on but I think this is sufficient for now. I did get all classwork done in a timely manner. I have monday's SPAN 1001 class already planned and have an outline sort of for the rest of the week's classes.
Keeping all these in mind I have two final thoughts:
1. Choose ye this day whom ye will hate. The MAN®, or the Masses. (You know which MAN I'm talking about... the establishment, the corporate-military complex, yadda yadda... don't play dumb or coy.) True, much of the Masses are hateful (see previous but recent comment in separate post regarding Republican nurses). However, I so badly want to elect a Democrat president next time we get a fucking chance, that I am willing to try to forget how much I hate the annoying average person and focuse all that hatey goodness on the real enemy: The MAN®. Because to elect a Democrat president, we need all the help from the masses we can get.
2. I am no longer amused by my peers bitching about their shitty job.
True, I am a great defender of the freedom of speech and a great lover of the internet. So please, complain and bitch all you want. That's what I do! (That's what I'm doing now, isn't it?)
However, although I used to love reading the zine Temp Slave (and own the book that is shown in that link), I just can no longer stomach that sort of crap. If you can read and write at what I would loosely refer to as a college reading level (you experts please correct me if you must; it's not like I have a cognitive/reading/writing slide-rule to measure zines and blogs), then you don't have to stay working at your shitty job. And even if your personal choices and circumstances make it more attractive to work that job for the time being than any alternative, let's admit it, it's temporary. That doesn't justify the myriad injustices you face in those jobs. But don't act like you are a fucking slave. You can quit whenever you want and with those mad intellectual skills you'll do just fine, kiddo. Didn't get the right tip on that 3-top? Cry me a fucking river. And steal from your boss. Please. It's the only thing that can make wrong right in these situations.
All of us have had shitty jobs. Maybe I'll blorg about that someday. Maybe not. I have a doozy of a story about what some psycho upper midwest white trash bitch said to me regarding my father's recent death when I was only trying to collect the weekly newspaper subscription fee due. I guess you could say that was my early intro to the truly shitty work, although it was just a paper route. I'll save the rest of the details of that story for some other time though. I've worked in food service and in the call center industry. I've had my share of shitty jobs. We all have.
And don't hate the customer, hate The MAN®!
Current music: "Little Johnny Jewel" - Television
What have I done?
(though enumerated the numbers do not signify anything):
1. Flipped off a group of undergraduates crossing lumpkin against my green light (and perpendicular to it) while driving Holly and I to lunch.
2. Successfully completed my primer ensayo for my fonética y fonología españolas class, and was quite pleased with it.
3. Quite obnoxiously and verbosely pissed all over the comments page of a fellow blogger whom I've never met, and though I apologized for my manner I still stand by the matter (the essence) of what I wrote.
4. Told my students (en español of course) that I think Pat Robertson is crazy.
5. Managed to eat lunch with Holly more often than not.
6. I could go on but I think this is sufficient for now. I did get all classwork done in a timely manner. I have monday's SPAN 1001 class already planned and have an outline sort of for the rest of the week's classes.
Keeping all these in mind I have two final thoughts:
1. Choose ye this day whom ye will hate. The MAN®, or the Masses. (You know which MAN I'm talking about... the establishment, the corporate-military complex, yadda yadda... don't play dumb or coy.) True, much of the Masses are hateful (see previous but recent comment in separate post regarding Republican nurses). However, I so badly want to elect a Democrat president next time we get a fucking chance, that I am willing to try to forget how much I hate the annoying average person and focuse all that hatey goodness on the real enemy: The MAN®. Because to elect a Democrat president, we need all the help from the masses we can get.
2. I am no longer amused by my peers bitching about their shitty job.
True, I am a great defender of the freedom of speech and a great lover of the internet. So please, complain and bitch all you want. That's what I do! (That's what I'm doing now, isn't it?)
However, although I used to love reading the zine Temp Slave (and own the book that is shown in that link), I just can no longer stomach that sort of crap. If you can read and write at what I would loosely refer to as a college reading level (you experts please correct me if you must; it's not like I have a cognitive/reading/writing slide-rule to measure zines and blogs), then you don't have to stay working at your shitty job. And even if your personal choices and circumstances make it more attractive to work that job for the time being than any alternative, let's admit it, it's temporary. That doesn't justify the myriad injustices you face in those jobs. But don't act like you are a fucking slave. You can quit whenever you want and with those mad intellectual skills you'll do just fine, kiddo. Didn't get the right tip on that 3-top? Cry me a fucking river. And steal from your boss. Please. It's the only thing that can make wrong right in these situations.
All of us have had shitty jobs. Maybe I'll blorg about that someday. Maybe not. I have a doozy of a story about what some psycho upper midwest white trash bitch said to me regarding my father's recent death when I was only trying to collect the weekly newspaper subscription fee due. I guess you could say that was my early intro to the truly shitty work, although it was just a paper route. I'll save the rest of the details of that story for some other time though. I've worked in food service and in the call center industry. I've had my share of shitty jobs. We all have.
And don't hate the customer, hate The MAN®!
Current music: "Little Johnny Jewel" - Television
posted by Model Consumer at 07:37
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