It is important to maintain a staid, unassuming look when interacting with work associates. They must not see the burning malice. Bury it deep within yourself. I’m pretty sure that 98% of everyone you interact with during the business day would rather watch you and everything else in the building burn than to have to continue on with the endless charade of niceties and corporate goals. There is an initial inherent dis-trust and disliking of co-workers that is engrained subconsciously – which is brought about by the fact that you are not given a choice in who you work with. Much like the saying that you can choose your friends, but not your family, you can’t choose the people you will need to spend a lot of time with and come to depend on in a lot of situations. This can lead to a lot of annoyance if your co-worker is a useless shit sipper, since you can’t tell him or her that they are useless shit sippers. Well I guess you could, but it depends on whether you want to be employed. And thus you carry on.

Nothing especially stimulating or particularly new to us corporate drones ever happens, but on the oft-dreamed of days where something “exciting” occurs, it usually involves some dick from another department that fucked up and we get to watch him burn from afar, without getting a speck of soot on us, and they escort him out of the building and lol. Because people in other departments are all morons. None of them are even the slightest bit aware of how to function in a work environment and they’re all so stupid and they’re all murderous neo-fascist monsters and blah blah blah. Make sure we discuss how we’re the only functional adults in the entire death star and never consider that all the other departments we so vehemently despise have the same opinion about us. While they rile and gyrate in their own medieval, plague filled filth of course. Those egregious pigs.

And let’s not forget the overall futility of the work. The what should be tacit knowledge that these trivial tasks, documents, project plans, spreadsheets, presentations, implementations, remediations &etc are of no meaning insofar as your life. This is not something you would many years from now tell your impressionable, delicate grandson while sitting him on your knee over Christmas festivities. “Mortimer I once oversaw a project wherein we delivered one week early and thirty percent under budget!” But it pays decent, and I appreciate that I am able to get more than I would scraping shit troughs for walmart, but fuck. This work is not bettering humanity. There are no real lessons learned here. It’s the same shit that innumerable other people just like me are doing at a thousand other companies for the same “goals”. Maybe I’m just suffering from a generation gap, wherein I think I should need to do something for work which betters or substantiates our country rather than punching shit into a computer, smiling and nodding at executives, and biting off my own tongue to keep from “helping” people to understand how fucking intolerably useless they are.

And what escape are we afforded to sedate this reality, the unending feeling that you’re wasting your life to increase the bottom line of some corporate entity whose very existence is of no real meaning to you, other than a paycheck? Booze? Drugs? I guess, as long as you aren’t an idiot about it. How about the comforting shell of an idea that we’re all going to buy houses and have kids and pay mortgages throughout our work-able years; someday probably maybe go on that cruise we always talked about. We had a good life. We worked forever and we did…some stuff for someone or other, and although our pensions were cut like a hot knife through a rat’s throat, which we utilize to get our dinner, when we can afford matches to heat the knife that is, everything will be OK. We are the distraction from the problem.

I’m a young man
I want happy
We deserve that
Dream collapsing
I’m just one man
So damn angry
True confusion
Scared what truth is
Hide your foil
Hide your face
Say “hi, horsemen”
Highest stakes
High again
Well, how ’bout that?
Well, how the fuck else can I react?

Meanwhile, in Germany.

Posted by Krank, filed under Awesomeness. Date: February 20, 2012, 12:37 am | No Comments »

09  Feb
Terror in Tulsa.

The ominous high pitched squealing noise was getting louder. I squinted my eyes down the path I was on, but was unable to focus in on what was coming. The glaring, harsh lights surrounding me cut through my eyes like a scalpel, nearly blinding me. My eyes relented to the mutilating affront to their tender, tender rods and cones after some time, and something began to come into focus about 40 yards to my north. While I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, I could tell it was huge. The shape seemed to block out the entire pathway, gleaming a bloody, high polished red in the brutal, never-ending white heavenly light which seemed to surround me from above and all sides. Instinctively knowing I was running out of time, I quickly side-stepped off the path and found cover. About 40 seconds later they came into view. There were three of them, spread out in an A formation with hungry, bulging eyes sweeping side to side. Their gaping maws hung open, glistening from a prior feast, or the thought of the one to come. You could see they wanted – needed – to feed. The red glint I caught in the distance just a few minutes prior was now in full and terrifying view – three shiny machines lumbering forever forward, humming wildly as they struggled to carry their impossible payloads. I waited for these monsters to pass, but stayed in my hiding spot until the humming of the engines receded. Once I felt safe, I cautiously made my way out from behind the rack of baby onesies I had taken refuge behind and headed due east toward the endless rows of cashiers. I had averted the Target Rascal Patrol (TRP) this time – but had no real confidence I would have such luck again.

Another day in the paradise of Tulsa was upon me, glory be to god, and if being outnumbered 391,906:1 by bible thumping, monument to stupidity building baptists who drive their own family members to suicide just because they like dick wasn’t enough, I had to deal with similar odds of fatties to myself. Here’s a riddle for you:

What’s worse than a 55 year old, scooter bound, morbidly obese woman preaching the word of god to you when all you wanted was a goddamn book from a Target SUPER CENTER because it was the on the way anyways so why not stop in?

NOTHING

Secondary riddle: Why do all my troubles seem to stem from book buying related journeys? I don’t really have an answer for that one. I guess I should have stocked up on my Archie comics beforehand.

Drivers of course, handle themselves on the road as I imagine anyone who knows they will suffer a painful, diabetes related death by the age of 37 would – with reckless, terrifying abandon. I suppose the assurance of a pastry filled eternity on fluffy, chocolate filled clouds assists in this mindset. Not since traversing roads in south-east Asia on the back of a 30675cc dirt bike driven by a drunk and angry driver at 3pm in heavy traffic have I felt so very assured of a bloody, unnecessary end to my illustrious and promising life. Indicators, speed limits and on-ramps onto freeways of more than 15 feet are not considered by the average Tulsan civilian or city planner it seems. After slamming the brakes on for the 30th time in as half as many blocks I realized that driver education ranks somewhere near their overall education ranking, which is apparently 40th in the country. Listen, Oklahomians, when making a right hand turn onto a two lane road, you are not supposed to turn into the outer-most lane. This is especially true when there is oncoming traffic somewhere between 20 and 25 yards from you advancing at a speed of 40 miles per hour. I saw a pick-up truck drive over a median to turn around after missing an on-ramp. I am serious. I saw so many pick-up trucks. I came close to death so many times. I do not like to drive or be in a vehicle driven by others in Tulsa, Oklahoma. How they are only ranked 5th worst in the country, I’m not sure. I think they can claim #1 on this one.

While I will miss the race tolerant, ridiculous world of Tulsa, wait. No I won’t.

Posted by Krank, filed under Awesomeness. Date: February 9, 2012, 10:10 pm | No Comments »