James,
It pains me to communicate more than one time in a month…but seeing as how you are in the big house, I believe that is my duty as a Holy Man™ and a man of science to write you while you sit in your metaphorical cell, crawling up the walls. I have done a great many grotesque things in the last couple of years, so what’s one more, right?
I am surrounded, as I am sure you are, by low people who stare at you funny while you dance to Fontella Bass in your office. If you can’t dance, why would you have an office in the first place? If they keep bitching, I’m going to trade it up for Lizzie Hale. Just imagine it; the mind reels in horror. Nobody needs to see a 250 pound side of beef dancing to Shatter Me. Motown is one thing, this is another.
But what to do about these assholes? They have no soul. They dislike their own odor. They have never had fun in their entire lives, and they’re not about to start now. In a proper world, they’d all be put in cargo containers where nothing will agitate them. And then maybe dump them in the ocean off Greenland somewhere.
They are the new scum, which is like the old scum except maybe they color their hair and wear “Keep <insert name of city> Weird” shirts. As if they knew weird. Their weird is pink hair and dismal, low-grade BDSM, and maybe walking around Second Saturday gawking at the street artists. But when you or I let our faces slip and show them actual weird, they all crowd to the other side of the bus and call the cops to shoot us stone dead for our own good.
These are the people who work for Mark Zuckerberg as well. Never forget that. The people that write bots are parochial and lazy, and context is not - strictly speaking - a thing. They are the people that tell you there is no cow level, and wonder what you mean when you tell them that the cake is a lie.
I think that’s why the country is so messed up. People are bored, and boredom breeds laziness. And laziness makes you stupid, stupid makes you crazy, and crazy makes people vote for Marjorie Taylor Greene and Matt Gaetz, and the old bloated orange thing.
Look at this from a standpoint of SCIENCE, the root cause of failure is in fact boredom, and boredom is curable. Now, many of the obvious solutions for boredom are illegal now, and are called “terrorism” and “mayhem,” even if you’re just trying to help. Federal and state law enforcement can be so short-sited. And I am not so interested as to gamble the rest of my life into a chain link enclosure in Cuba (or the arctic, ho ho, you didn’t hear that from ME.)
So we will have to go the long, patient route. Be the thing they hate to see. Be the left wing Big Gay Cowboy that they fear so much, braying spittle and laughter on their pinched, mean-spirited faces. Have fun right in front of them, in broad daylight, in the middle of the street. I have thought about this, and I can no longer abet their mindless boredom-inspired hate. So I quit.
I resign from being white. This doesn’t mean that I think I’m black or anything. I am in fact transparent. You can see my guts and everything. I’m educational.
I resign from being straight. My orientation hasn’t actually changed, I’m not claiming to be LGBT, it’s just that Gay folks tend to be more fun than straights, and it’s also my Get Out of Heaven Free Card. I mean, spending an eternity with Christian conservatives isn’t the selling point they think it is.
I resign from those other serious bastards, the ones on the far left. They aren’t having any fun, either. I’m not out to become a right winger, but I am NOT an “ally”. It’s just that the “woke” people and I just happen to have the same enemies. Sort of like the USA and UK with the USSR in world war two. Nobody liked the other guy, but it was better than the Nazis. Hence my slogan, “The enemy of my enemy is NEXT.”
So our job, James, is to make people shit themselves. They should only have vague memories of their interactions with us, which they associate with waking up tied to a chair with a bag over your head with an overpowering smell of lighter fluid…While some big tone deaf bastard sings “Rescue Me” accompanied by The James playing a xylophone made out of kittens. With a taser.
Of course we would never DO such things, as they are illegal. But it’s not illegal to make people FEEL like we have done those things.
This is surprisingly easy to do. Just tell Andy in accounting “I can’t quit you” and do the LMFAO shimmy. Poor Andy. He can’t take it anymore. He makes a keening noise, like a wounded dog. His nose is bleeding. He hauls down his pants and shits on the floor. And that’s before the all-hands morale meeting, in which I am inexplicably expected to speak. Hell, I am writing this letter now, because I need to warm up for said speech. I am sure that morale will benefit from this because I’m The Boss.
That’s an awful thought. Hamish is upper management these days. I feel that there was some sort of error in the universe. Like one day I was supposed to go straight, but instead made a hard left turn into an alley, and now I’m in the wrong universe. I was supposed to be a millwright. I was in fact trained as a millwright, but now I’m overseeing a lab full of cheerfully murderous technicians who, by their powers combined, are the largest moral sump in this state (outside of Phoenix, obviously).
We do morally-questionable science for bad people. How the fuck am I supposed to improve on the sort of morale THAT generates? We’re already there. We are 20 Lex Luthors, with wild eyes and hate in our hearts. Except for Jared in marketing. Jared is what would happen if you took Tebow’s brain and put it in Stephen Hawking’s body and sent him off to fight polar bears. Jared is our woobie. He is in fact our natural prey. Of course, he was doomed to begin with. He is in marketing in business for which you need an NDA to even know what we sell. Jared has no purpose; he exists solely to be the butt of our jokes. He thinks we’re laughing with him. I’d feel bad, if I had the capacity to care about what happens to Jared.
All of this probably makes me a bad person. I’m okay with that, because being a good citizen only works if you live in a good society. We don’t. So we can do anything we like.
WITNESS ME ALL SHINY AND CHROME!
- DOK
