When I was 17, it filled my mouth with bile to think about the Office World looming over me like the sword of damocles. After watching Fight Club, Office Space, reading too much Cyberpunk, etc etc I thought that being a fucking independant, self-actualized, free-thinking individual might be negated by some sort of white collar slavery, some sort of indentured servitude to the Machine.
But ya know, after bouncing from career to career for a while, I’ve been sitting in this particular little gray cube for over a year now and it really ain’t that bad. Today is April Fool’s day and I’m hanging up prank signs from the MGT. My cube is filled with art by Magritte, Brandon Bird, Perry Bible Fellowship, and my own stuff. It’s the little things.
And you know, over here in the belly of The Machine, people actually DO seem to appreciate free thinkers. How’s that for faith in humanity? I do think people appreciate those rare freaks who are more colorful than their environment, and it IS inspirational.
And that’s the whole gimmick, right? How to sell out without losing anything of value? Without trapping yourself? How to rearrange the local parts of the Machine until it’s the Machine you want to live in?
I don’t think the 17 year old version of me got it yet. I’m 26 now and Yes I may seem like a white collar slave sometimes, but really now – it ain’t so bad. It beats being an actor / waiter, or a screen writer / shoe salesman, or a starving artist with scabby knees. Because when I’m not in the 9 to 5, I’m living a guitar solo. What I do professionally isn’t the focus of my life. Last night I went out and put up a hundred fucking posters, and it recharged me like WOAH I’m fucking awake again.
This  one guy was walking back from his car, and he saw one of the posters my girlfriend and I put up, and he burst out laughing like a mad man. As we walked down the block, we could hear him in the distance, still cackling. Somebody out there saw something weird today, and maybe he’s gonna start looking everywhere for nonsense now. Maybe he’ll even become a part of it.
This activity really recharges my batteries. If I’m ever feeling Low Quality, this is one of those things I try to remember to do. It makes me feel like all this talk we do about surviving on the lunatic fringe isn’t just abstract masturbation – I’m actually out there doing it.
whatever it is.
WOAH I’m fucking awake again!
I think you’ve hit some sort of nail with some sort of metaphorical nail-hitting apparatus right on its metaphorical head – the nail’s, I mean, not the apparatus’.