Okay, so you get a little sideways...Not a lot, you understand, but there's definitely a little wobble in the little motors that run your brain. Good Roger is on one shoulder, and Bad Roger Redman is on the other, and they're both whispering advice, but there's a monkey in between screeching so loudly that you can't hear either one of them.
So you go through your workday with about a million things going on, both work-related and personal, and you really don't care because that damned Indian Head test pattern is on the inside of both of your eyelids, and the pills just aren't doing their thing right. Obligations are starting to slip, deadlines are passing by, and the funniest fucking thing is that your boss takes a moment to say what a great job you're doing.
So you smile at him (And you try to make sure it isn't squiddy's smile, good fucking God, show THAT to the boss and he'll call the fucking cops.), and you say thanks, and you go back to spacing out, which everyone seems to think is a "absent-minded professor" look. But it's not.
And then the SAP system takes a dive, and now you don't have even THAT to concentrate on, so you just sit at your desk and listen to the slushy noises as your bones melt, and give robot answers (That, strangely enough, seem to be correct.) to your employees when they come in to ask questions.
And that's what makes all of this so interesting...You know something's not functioning as advertised, but you can still give a pretty damn good imitation of being you, and you're kind of stunned by that fact, as you watch yourself get through the day without causing any undue alarm in your friends, family, or coworkers. That's amazing, because your head is full of bad wiring and broken glass, and you really can't fathom how nobody is noticing it.
The temptation, of course, is to make a few bad decisions, and see if anyone notices. Not because you suspect that they aren't real, but maybe because you suspect that you aren't...Or, more accurately, you might be real, but also invisible to those around you, like a piece of furniture or something.
I've seen the same look on the whores in South Filth. Their hard eyes look right though you as you drive by, like you don't exist (Arguably, for them you actually can't), but they have a trapped look that says "Hey! I used to be a person, you know, a kid who liked to play and hang out with friends just like YOUR kid, but something happened and I stopped being a real person and became a commodity. What happened?"
Funny thing is, I see that look on the faces of service sector employees and cube-farm inmates all the time, too. And on housewives. And students. Everyone's becoming androids, tools, appliances for each other, and we've all stopped being people.
So at least, you know, it isn't just me. Which makes me feel a bit better, in an odd sort of way.
Okay (for now),
Dok
You see bad wiring and broken glass staring back and neither person says anything to acknowledge it. Or, you try to, and get a cheery, hostile or forced-confused response (sometimes, all in one!).
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 05:03:55 PM
Funny thing is, I see that look on the faces of service sector employees and cube-farm inmates all the time, too. And on housewives. And students. Everyone's becoming androids, tools, appliances for each other, and we've all stopped being people.
So at least, you know, it isn't just me. Which makes me feel a bit better, in an odd sort of way.
I think I know what you mean. There are days when everyone in my department has the exact same face. Days when it's infuriatingly comforting, too.
(not the same thing, but this made me think of my face cracked (http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=22460.0))
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 05:45:56 PM
You see bad wiring and broken glass staring back and neither person says anything to acknowledge it. Or, you try to, and get a cheery, hostile or forced-confused response (sometimes, all in one!).
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 05:03:55 PM
Funny thing is, I see that look on the faces of service sector employees and cube-farm inmates all the time, too. And on housewives. And students. Everyone's becoming androids, tools, appliances for each other, and we've all stopped being people.
So at least, you know, it isn't just me. Which makes me feel a bit better, in an odd sort of way.
I think I know what you mean. There are days when everyone in my department has the exact same face. Days when it's infuriatingly comforting, too.
(not the same thing, but this made me think of my face cracked (http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=22460.0))
Yeah, it's not the same thing, because I'm starting to think that there's nothing behind my mask, you know?
And I seem remember a time when people - at least not all of them - weren't appliances or office equipment. The hiring office said "Personnel" on the door. Later it became "Human Resources", and eventually, in some places, just "Resources". I listened to a vendor talk about getting a job done faster if we approved more resources. He meant brick masons. PEOPLE. ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS. Resources.
How did this happen? How did we let ourselves go back to the 1890 mentality of the disposable worker? What is the half-life of a temp? Ho ho! Just get the job done and toss 'em in the dumpster. If you don't like it, well, that's a big goddamn dumpster, right? Plenty of room. Now get back to work, or we'll replace you with another "resource" who's more amenable to their place in the natural order of things. And nobody will miss you, because you'll have stopped existing, just like
those people walking.
We live in a world of biological robots, just consumption-driven food tubes who forgot they were Gods, once upon a time.
And there's no way out.
No Dok, it isn't just you. And I understand, it does make you feel a bit better knowing there are others out there having the same or similar issues. For me though, feeling better just isn't enough anymore.
I'm just plain fucking tired. I'm tired of working my ass off every day for nowhere near enough money to support a family of 4. I'm thoroughly disgusted that my teenager isn't getting an after school job because he wants pocket money, or to save for a car, or the fucking prom, but because he wants to help me pay the bills. I'm furious that I'm raising a daughter in a country that, while things are definitely better than even 20 years ago and better than many other countries as well, she will still be defined as inferior in the workplace because she is female.
I see that look every day. In the morning I get it while I brush my teeth and do my hair. Those eyes stare at me the entire ride to work in the rearview mirror. Then at work, I can feel the depression and fatigue just weighing on me as I sit at a desk in an otherwise empty cubicle away from everyone else in the office, punished like a bad step child.
You get to the point where as you say, you want to make bad decisions. You want to climb up on the arch and start shooting anyone wearing a yellow shirt because the color is just too fucking bright and happiness is no longer an option. You want to get on the bus and just start smacking people to see if they actually can wake up or if they are so deep in the mire of life's crap they just can't make themselves care anymore.
I think I've gone beyond a piece of furniture or appliance to a doorstop. I'm there, I do my job but no one gives a damn if I break tomorrow. I'm easily and cheaply replaced.
And the worst is I'm trying to raise my kids in this bullshit. To teach them not to allow themselves to be someone else's appliance. For them to be the strong, smart and capable human beings they have the potential to be. Then reality strikes and I realize, I'm just a monkey swimming in the cesspool of life and there is nowhere to go except down the fucking drain.
Quote from: Khara on August 17, 2010, 05:59:44 PM
You get to the point where as you say, you want to make bad decisions. You want to climb up on the arch and start shooting anyone wearing a yellow shirt because the color is just too fucking bright and happiness is no longer an option. You want to get on the bus and just start smacking people to see if they actually can wake up or if they are so deep in the mire of life's crap they just can't make themselves care anymore.
Happiness is an option. It's always an option. It's just HOW you get happy that may be subject to change.
I intend to get back to this later, Dok. Got a reply being worked out in my head.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 06:22:33 PM
I intend to get back to this later, Dok. Got a reply being worked out in my head.
I'll be here when you get back. At least I'm reasonably certain I will.
I hear ya Dok. It seems outside our 'sphere of influence' (used to be known as friends and family) that we are indeed dead.
Often, I want to trip someone just to see if they will lay there or get back up and continue on. Some days I want someone to trip me, so I can see what I do.
But I don't, and they don't, because it just not done.
But what makes it all worth it is when you meet an actual person, a real, living human being, who hasn't been ingested by the pod yet.
And so, we get up tomorrow to face another day of maybe, just possibly, finding another living being.
Meanwhile we laugh.
Human resources? They are more like political janitors, they sit behind their desks pushing paperwork, handling the bananas to give out to the other monkeys. Sitting above these Janitor monkeys are the robots who demand the monkeys work for less bananas so the robots can have more oil. Whose bright idea was it to hire monkeys to work on the machines? Not sure maybe it was a robot, maybe it was a monkey...
All I know is I have to get up before the sun to sit in a large cage with other monkeys to the big tree, and earn a banana for the day.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 06:38:18 PM
Meanwhile we laugh.
Or just sit at our desks and listen to our brains hum. One of the two.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 06:46:23 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 06:38:18 PM
Meanwhile we laugh.
Or just sit at our desks and listen to our brains hum. One of the two.
Well, I am trying to adjust to the new meds, so not as much humming as a distinct smell of burning oil and screeching noises.
Quote from: Pēleus on August 17, 2010, 06:39:52 PM
Human resources? They are more like political janitors, they sit behind their desks pushing paperwork, handling the bananas to give out to the other monkeys. Sitting above these Janitor monkeys are the robots who demand the monkeys work for less bananas so the robots can have more oil. Whose bright idea was it to hire monkeys to work on the machines? Not sure maybe it was a robot, maybe it was a monkey...
All I know is I have to get up before the sun to sit in a large cage with other monkeys to the big tree, and earn a banana for the day.
One thing that I suddenly find very interesting is that we have old primates who don't do anything sitting on most of the bananas, and anyone who says that's wrong - or doesn't want to give the old primates more bananas - is called a "communist".
I mean, I've always known that, but now it intrigues me that so little effort is required to brainwash the smaller primates.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 05:54:27 PM
Yeah, it's not the same thing, because I'm starting to think that there's nothing behind my mask, you know?
And I seem remember a time when people - at least not all of them - weren't appliances or office equipment. The hiring office said "Personnel" on the door. Later it became "Human Resources", and eventually, in some places, just "Resources". I listened to a vendor talk about getting a job done faster if we approved more resources. He meant brick masons. PEOPLE. ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS. Resources.
How did this happen? How did we let ourselves go back to the 1890 mentality of the disposable worker? What is the half-life of a temp? Ho ho! Just get the job done and toss 'em in the dumpster. If you don't like it, well, that's a big goddamn dumpster, right? Plenty of room. Now get back to work, or we'll replace you with another "resource" who's more amenable to their place in the natural order of things. And nobody will miss you, because you'll have stopped existing, just like those people walking.
We live in a world of biological robots, just consumption-driven food tubes who forgot they were Gods, once upon a time.
And there's no way out.
"Valuable natural resources." Because that worked so well for the cod.
2003, I went on the dole. As a requirement for collecting the money that would pay a quarter of our rent, my fellow socialist leeches and I had to take a course: Me, Inc. Run by a smoothfaced, condescending asshat. "Remember: you're selling yourself as a product." That blatant. "Present yourself like you're a corporation.
Brand yourself. See yourself as Me, Inc."
Me, Inc for the McJob.
So, I work with a group of teachers now. A few months back, one of them cheerfully reported that her 8-9 year old students are making portfolios: Putting their "content," "creative products" and photocopies of report cards into professional little packages. No more sticking stuff on the fridge. And the kids, she says, are getting incredibly good at Marketing Themselves. I didn't know how to rage at that. It just simmers.
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 06:54:47 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 05:54:27 PM
Yeah, it's not the same thing, because I'm starting to think that there's nothing behind my mask, you know?
And I seem remember a time when people - at least not all of them - weren't appliances or office equipment. The hiring office said "Personnel" on the door. Later it became "Human Resources", and eventually, in some places, just "Resources". I listened to a vendor talk about getting a job done faster if we approved more resources. He meant brick masons. PEOPLE. ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS. Resources.
How did this happen? How did we let ourselves go back to the 1890 mentality of the disposable worker? What is the half-life of a temp? Ho ho! Just get the job done and toss 'em in the dumpster. If you don't like it, well, that's a big goddamn dumpster, right? Plenty of room. Now get back to work, or we'll replace you with another "resource" who's more amenable to their place in the natural order of things. And nobody will miss you, because you'll have stopped existing, just like those people walking.
We live in a world of biological robots, just consumption-driven food tubes who forgot they were Gods, once upon a time.
And there's no way out.
"Valuable natural resources." Because that worked so well for the cod.
2003, I went on the dole. As a requirement for collecting the money that would pay a quarter of our rent, my fellow socialist leeches and I had to take a course: Me, Inc. Run by a smoothfaced, condescending asshat. "Remember: you're selling yourself as a product." That blatant. "Present yourself like you're a corporation. Brand yourself. See yourself as Me, Inc."
Me, Inc for the McJob.
So, I work with a group of teachers now. A few months back, one of them cheerfully reported that her 8-9 year old students are making portfolios: Putting their "content," "creative products" and photocopies of report cards into professional little packages. No more sticking stuff on the fridge. And the kids, she says, are getting incredibly good at Marketing Themselves. I didn't know how to rage at that. It just simmers.
They are proud and bragging about that? Seriously?
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 06:54:47 PM
So, I work with a group of teachers now. A few months back, one of them cheerfully reported that her 8-9 year old students are making portfolios: Putting their "content," "creative products" and photocopies of report cards into professional little packages. No more sticking stuff on the fridge. And the kids, she says, are getting incredibly good at Marketing Themselves. I didn't know how to rage at that. It just simmers.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 06:20:37 PM
Quote from: Khara on August 17, 2010, 05:59:44 PM
You get to the point where as you say, you want to make bad decisions. You want to climb up on the arch and start shooting anyone wearing a yellow shirt because the color is just too fucking bright and happiness is no longer an option. You want to get on the bus and just start smacking people to see if they actually can wake up or if they are so deep in the mire of life's crap they just can't make themselves care anymore.
Happiness is an option. It's always an option. It's just HOW you get happy that may be subject to change.
Absolutely. Agreed.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 06:57:24 PM
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 06:54:47 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 05:54:27 PM
Yeah, it's not the same thing, because I'm starting to think that there's nothing behind my mask, you know?
And I seem remember a time when people - at least not all of them - weren't appliances or office equipment. The hiring office said "Personnel" on the door. Later it became "Human Resources", and eventually, in some places, just "Resources". I listened to a vendor talk about getting a job done faster if we approved more resources. He meant brick masons. PEOPLE. ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS. Resources.
How did this happen? How did we let ourselves go back to the 1890 mentality of the disposable worker? What is the half-life of a temp? Ho ho! Just get the job done and toss 'em in the dumpster. If you don't like it, well, that's a big goddamn dumpster, right? Plenty of room. Now get back to work, or we'll replace you with another "resource" who's more amenable to their place in the natural order of things. And nobody will miss you, because you'll have stopped existing, just like those people walking.
We live in a world of biological robots, just consumption-driven food tubes who forgot they were Gods, once upon a time.
And there's no way out.
"Valuable natural resources." Because that worked so well for the cod.
2003, I went on the dole. As a requirement for collecting the money that would pay a quarter of our rent, my fellow socialist leeches and I had to take a course: Me, Inc. Run by a smoothfaced, condescending asshat. "Remember: you're selling yourself as a product." That blatant. "Present yourself like you're a corporation. Brand yourself. See yourself as Me, Inc."
Me, Inc for the McJob.
So, I work with a group of teachers now. A few months back, one of them cheerfully reported that her 8-9 year old students are making portfolios: Putting their "content," "creative products" and photocopies of report cards into professional little packages. No more sticking stuff on the fridge. And the kids, she says, are getting incredibly good at Marketing Themselves. I didn't know how to rage at that. It just simmers.
They are proud and bragging about that? Seriously?
It is saddest when 'society', or rather, some members of 'society' swears parents to be failing or horrible within their roles if they fail to 'train' their children to do such things. It is more common than recognized, I can bet, and it is also in the most ridiculous ways.
Really, Ruby...Isn't this thread just a little...vulgar for your tastes?
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 06:57:24 PM
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 06:54:47 PM
So, I work with a group of teachers now. A few months back, one of them cheerfully reported that her 8-9 year old students are making portfolios: Putting their "content," "creative products" and photocopies of report cards into professional little packages. No more sticking stuff on the fridge. And the kids, she says, are getting incredibly good at Marketing Themselves. I didn't know how to rage at that. It just simmers.
They are proud and bragging about that? Seriously?
A few people were delighted and took notes. A couple of people started talking about those self-reviews you have to do nowadays, and how they (adults) have to have portfolios, too. And a handful of us looked like we'd been punched in the throat.
I started deliberately inviting community workers and activists to meetings after that. They'd always been there, but for the next few months, I made sure they had the floor.
But yes, she was proud and bragging. Fascinated and full of wonder at their ability to Produce Themselves neatly. I remember she attributed it to them having facebook pages or something like that. It was ridiculous.
Dear gods. I can hear the bleating of the sheep from here.
This is an interesting topic.
I've always had a very passing interest in bees, ants, and wasps. But I never actually researched them until a queen wasp decided she was going to build a nest right outside of my back door last spring. As I watched this nest grow from a few chambers and only the queen herself to around fifty chambers and a small army of wasps, I decided to research their life cycle. What I found ended up fascinating me more than the nest itself.
As it turns out, the majority of the wasp population of this nest is infertile female workers. When the nest was small, the queen produced them to help make the nest bigger and bigger. They also have the job of defending the nest in case someone tries to attack it (luckily, this particular species is the paper wasp so they aren't aggressive unless someone attacks them first).
There are very few fertile females in the nest (including the queen). During the spring, they begin the nest. During the summer, when there are enough workers to build/maintain the nest on their own, they turn towards simply reproducing. During the early days of winter, the queen and the other fertile females fly off to find shelter so they can hibernate until spring comes around again to make another nest.
But the fate of the infertile female worker is quite different. You see, the only two jobs of the workers are to build/maintain the nest and protect it. They have no other expectations in life. When the queen and fertile females leave, the workers stay behind at the nest. They're nothing without the nest, after all. When winter comes, and the fertile females are tucked safely away in hibernation, the rest of the wasps are killed off by the winter's cold weather. That's it. They simply die. The fertile females will never return to that nest. Which means that those workers no longer have a purpose. So they're simply left to die. Their lives were meaningless. Their lives were pointless. Their lives were wasted. Because that nest, the reason for their existence, is quickly discarded as soon as its purpose is fulfilled. Just like the workers.
Knowing this gave me a weird feeling. A felt something akin to disgust when I learned this. These worker wasps' sole purpose in life is to build/maintain the nest and protect it from threats. That's their sole reason for existence. That's all they're meant to do in life. They're nothing more than biological robots built to construct and defend.
I think the reason why I felt disgust wasn't because I felt sorry for the wasps. After all, they're just wasps. I couldn't care less about them. I think the reason why I felt disgust was because maybe, just maybe, my own species isn't so different.
After all, how are most people any different then these worker wasps? We are born, raised, and trained (school) to perform a job for our society. We spend the majority of our lives doing a job until we're no longer capable of doing it. Then we simply sit around as we deteriorate and eventually die.
It seems that most people define themselves by their work/job.
"What are you?"
"I'm a banker."
"I'm a construction worker."
"I'm a cop."
"I'm an analyst."
If it were possible to ask the worker wasp that exact same question, would you not get the same answer?
"I'm a construction worker."
"I'm a babysitter."
"I'm a soldier."
Our society tells us that if we're not a productive member of society who doesn't go against the grain of one's society/culture, you're a "good" person. If you're not helping to build or maintain the Machine, or if you're too outside the framework of what constitutes a "good citizen," you're a "bad" person. In other words, if you don't think how society wants you to think and perform how society wants you to perform, you're "wrong." Thinking outside the box isn't bad, mind you. As long as it has no real affect on your work productivity or society as a whole. Most of the people in our species are trained to be mindless workers. Only a few are taught to be different (just like the fertile females in the wasp nest).
How are we any different than worker wasps? And how are our lives, given we continue down this path, not just as meaningless and wasted?
Maybe the only, and most important, difference between your average human and the worker wasp is that at least we get to decide whether we're going to live that life or not. And doesn't that freedom make us so much better, and so much worse, than those worker wasps?
Quote from: Nurse Rhizome on August 17, 2010, 07:12:27 PM
A few people were delighted and took notes. A couple of people started talking about those self-reviews you have to do nowadays, and how they (adults) have to have portfolios, too. And a handful of us looked like we'd been punched in the throat.
I started deliberately inviting community workers and activists to meetings after that. They'd always been there, but for the next few months, I made sure they had the floor.
But yes, she was proud and bragging. Fascinated and full of wonder at their ability to Produce Themselves neatly. I remember she attributed it to them having facebook pages or something like that. It was ridiculous.
We have self-reviews. I don't have to do mine, because I just put "Godlike" in every catagory, and then blamed the pills, so my boss just gave up and started writing mine.
And that "teacher" should be bastinadoed. For her own good.
It may be important for children, preteens, and teens to recognize that they are worthy, especially if there is already a concern about potential abusiveness outside of school, but that seems way overboard.
My dearest Doktor,
Doktor, you are in The Hole, besieging the world.
Like Wonko The Sane you have decided that you are Outside The Asylum (though some, perhaps even yourself in times now passed, believe that if anyone needs to be inside itm it's you. But you are not, you are Outside and that'll teach the fuckers to step).
It's good Outside The Asylum, where experience is not dulled by the medications of the nurses. Where one is not held in padded rooms for ones own safety, not to mention that of the staff and the other inmates. Outside, life happens to you in all it's pain and glory and detailed passion.
Outside The Asylum is an enclave of reality, the size, roughly, of your head. Surrounding the enclave is The Asylum, which is the size of the entire world. To those less sane than Wonko, to those less Scientific than a Doktor, it must look like you're in an asylum yourself. They are blinded by The Asylum and do not know freedom.
You are at war with The Asylum. Your enclave is small but armed to the goddamn teeth. The Asylum is large, but dull and unaware. And you besiege them. The buzz, Doktor, is the result of tireless assaults on the mighty walls surrounding you that some mistake for your skull. The feeling of "Nothing Behind The Mask" is just that, for masks are a tool of The Asylum which you are resolutely Outside of. The sheer mundanity of interaction with those Within is no fault of yours, for it is their own language they speak in - not yours.
The Crusade continues my friend. One day you will free a few of the Resources, and they will too will be Outside The Asylum (if not in your enclave, due to lack of space... I mean you already have a monkey in there and several large guns).
~~~In solidarity, The Good Reverend Payne, Messiah. Vivre Longtemps hors de L'Asile!
Quote from: Aucoq on August 17, 2010, 07:15:56 PM
This is an interesting topic.
I've always had a very passing interest in bees, ants, and wasps. But I never actually researched them until a queen wasp decided she was going to build a nest right outside of my back door last spring. As I watched this nest grow from a few chambers and only the queen herself to around fifty chambers and a small army of wasps, I decided to research their life cycle. What I found ended up fascinating me more than the nest itself.
As it turns out, the majority of the wasp population of this nest is infertile female workers. When the nest was small, the queen produced them to help make the nest bigger and bigger. They also have the job of defending the nest in case someone tries to attack it (luckily, this particular species is the paper wasp so they aren't aggressive unless someone attacks them first).
There are very few fertile females in the nest (including the queen). During the spring, they begin the nest. During the summer, when there are enough workers to build/maintain the nest on their own, they turn towards simply reproducing. During the early days of winter, the queen and the other fertile females fly off to find shelter so they can hibernate until spring comes around again to make another nest.
But the fate of the infertile female worker is quite different. You see, the only two jobs of the workers are to build/maintain the nest and protect it. They have no other expectations in life. When the queen and fertile females leave, the workers stay behind at the nest. They're nothing without the nest, after all. When winter comes, and the fertile females are tucked safely away in hibernation, the rest of the wasps are killed off by the winter's cold weather. That's it. They simply die. The fertile females will never return to that nest. Which means that those workers no longer have a purpose. So they're simply left to die. Their lives were meaningless. Their lives were pointless. Their lives were wasted. Because that nest, the reason for their existence, is quickly discarded as soon as its purpose is fulfilled. Just like the workers.
Knowing this gave me a weird feeling. A felt something akin to disgust when I learned this. These worker wasps' sole purpose in life is to build/maintain the nest and protect it from threats. That's their sole reason for existence. That's all they're meant to do in life. They're nothing more than biological robots built to construct and defend.
I think the reason why I felt disgust wasn't because I felt sorry for the wasps. After all, they're just wasps. I couldn't care less about them. I think the reason why I felt disgust was because maybe, just maybe, my own species isn't so different.
After all, how are most people any different then these worker wasps? We are born, raised, and trained (school) to perform a job for our society. We spend the majority of our lives doing a job until we're no longer capable of doing it. Then we simply sit around as we deteriorate and eventually die.
It seems that most people define themselves by their work/job.
"What are you?"
"I'm a banker."
"I'm a construction worker."
"I'm a cop."
"I'm an analyst."
If it were possible to ask the worker wasp that exact same question, would you not get the same answer?
"I'm a construction worker."
"I'm a babysitter."
"I'm a soldier."
Our society tells us that if we're not a productive member of society who doesn't go against the grain of one's society/culture, you're a "good" person. If you're not helping to build or maintain the Machine, or if you're too outside the framework of what constitutes a "good citizen," you're a "bad" person. In other words, if you don't think how society wants you to think and perform how society wants you to perform, you're "wrong." Thinking outside the box isn't bad, mind you. As long as it has no real affect on your work productivity or society as a whole. Most of the people in our species are trained to be mindless workers. Only a few are taught to be different (just like the fertile females in the wasp nest).
How are we any different than worker wasps? And how are our lives, given we continue down this path, not just as meaningless and wasted?
Maybe the only, and most important, difference between your average human and the worker wasp is that at least we get to decide whether we're going to live that life or not. And doesn't that freedom make us so much better, and so much worse, than those worker wasps?
This made me laugh, in a way that probably isn't healthy.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 07:17:56 PM
My dearest Doktor,
Doktor, you are in The Hole, besieging the world.
Like Wonko The Sane you have decided that you are Outside The Asylum (though some, perhaps even yourself in times now passed, believe that if anyone needs to be inside itm it's you. But you are not, you are Outside and that'll teach the fuckers to step).
It's good Outside The Asylum, where experience is not dulled by the medications of the nurses. Where one is not held in padded rooms for ones own safety, not to mention that of the staff and the other inmates. Outside, life happens to you in all it's pain and glory and detailed passion.
Outside The Asylum is an enclave of reality, the size, roughly, of your head. Surrounding the enclave is The Asylum, which is the size of the entire world. To those less sane than Wonko, to those less Scientific than a Doktor, it must look like you're in an asylum yourself. They are blinded by The Asylum and do not know freedom.
You are at war with The Asylum. Your enclave is small but armed to the goddamn teeth. The Asylum is large, but dull and unaware. And you besiege them. The buzz, Doktor, is the result of tireless assaults on the mighty walls surrounding you that some mistake for your skull. The feeling of "Nothing Behind The Mask" is just that, for masks are a tool of The Asylum which you are resolutely Outside of. The sheer mundanity of interaction with those Within is no fault of yours, for it is their own language they speak in - not yours.
The Crusade continues my friend. One day you will free a few of the Resources, and they will too will be Outside The Asylum (if not in your enclave, due to lack of space... I mean you already have a monkey in there and several large guns).
~~~In solidarity, The Good Reverend Payne, Messiah. Vivre Longtemps hors de L'Asile!
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:21:12 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 07:17:56 PM
My dearest Doktor,
Doktor, you are in The Hole, besieging the world.
Like Wonko The Sane you have decided that you are Outside The Asylum (though some, perhaps even yourself in times now passed, believe that if anyone needs to be inside itm it's you. But you are not, you are Outside and that'll teach the fuckers to step).
It's good Outside The Asylum, where experience is not dulled by the medications of the nurses. Where one is not held in padded rooms for ones own safety, not to mention that of the staff and the other inmates. Outside, life happens to you in all it's pain and glory and detailed passion.
Outside The Asylum is an enclave of reality, the size, roughly, of your head. Surrounding the enclave is The Asylum, which is the size of the entire world. To those less sane than Wonko, to those less Scientific than a Doktor, it must look like you're in an asylum yourself. They are blinded by The Asylum and do not know freedom.
You are at war with The Asylum. Your enclave is small but armed to the goddamn teeth. The Asylum is large, but dull and unaware. And you besiege them. The buzz, Doktor, is the result of tireless assaults on the mighty walls surrounding you that some mistake for your skull. The feeling of "Nothing Behind The Mask" is just that, for masks are a tool of The Asylum which you are resolutely Outside of. The sheer mundanity of interaction with those Within is no fault of yours, for it is their own language they speak in - not yours.
The Crusade continues my friend. One day you will free a few of the Resources, and they will too will be Outside The Asylum (if not in your enclave, due to lack of space... I mean you already have a monkey in there and several large guns).
~~~In solidarity, The Good Reverend Payne, Messiah. Vivre Longtemps hors de L'Asile!
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
With permission, I would like to print this for postergasm.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 07:22:42 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:21:12 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 07:17:56 PM
My dearest Doktor,
Doktor, you are in The Hole, besieging the world.
Like Wonko The Sane you have decided that you are Outside The Asylum (though some, perhaps even yourself in times now passed, believe that if anyone needs to be inside itm it's you. But you are not, you are Outside and that'll teach the fuckers to step).
It's good Outside The Asylum, where experience is not dulled by the medications of the nurses. Where one is not held in padded rooms for ones own safety, not to mention that of the staff and the other inmates. Outside, life happens to you in all it's pain and glory and detailed passion.
Outside The Asylum is an enclave of reality, the size, roughly, of your head. Surrounding the enclave is The Asylum, which is the size of the entire world. To those less sane than Wonko, to those less Scientific than a Doktor, it must look like you're in an asylum yourself. They are blinded by The Asylum and do not know freedom.
You are at war with The Asylum. Your enclave is small but armed to the goddamn teeth. The Asylum is large, but dull and unaware. And you besiege them. The buzz, Doktor, is the result of tireless assaults on the mighty walls surrounding you that some mistake for your skull. The feeling of "Nothing Behind The Mask" is just that, for masks are a tool of The Asylum which you are resolutely Outside of. The sheer mundanity of interaction with those Within is no fault of yours, for it is their own language they speak in - not yours.
The Crusade continues my friend. One day you will free a few of the Resources, and they will too will be Outside The Asylum (if not in your enclave, due to lack of space... I mean you already have a monkey in there and several large guns).
~~~In solidarity, The Good Reverend Payne, Messiah. Vivre Longtemps hors de L'Asile!
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
With permission, I would like to print this for postergasm.
I'm okay with you using my response, if you meant to include it.
Payne will have to answer for the rest.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:23:56 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 07:22:42 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:21:12 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 07:17:56 PM
My dearest Doktor,
Doktor, you are in The Hole, besieging the world.
Like Wonko The Sane you have decided that you are Outside The Asylum (though some, perhaps even yourself in times now passed, believe that if anyone needs to be inside itm it's you. But you are not, you are Outside and that'll teach the fuckers to step).
It's good Outside The Asylum, where experience is not dulled by the medications of the nurses. Where one is not held in padded rooms for ones own safety, not to mention that of the staff and the other inmates. Outside, life happens to you in all it's pain and glory and detailed passion.
Outside The Asylum is an enclave of reality, the size, roughly, of your head. Surrounding the enclave is The Asylum, which is the size of the entire world. To those less sane than Wonko, to those less Scientific than a Doktor, it must look like you're in an asylum yourself. They are blinded by The Asylum and do not know freedom.
You are at war with The Asylum. Your enclave is small but armed to the goddamn teeth. The Asylum is large, but dull and unaware. And you besiege them. The buzz, Doktor, is the result of tireless assaults on the mighty walls surrounding you that some mistake for your skull. The feeling of "Nothing Behind The Mask" is just that, for masks are a tool of The Asylum which you are resolutely Outside of. The sheer mundanity of interaction with those Within is no fault of yours, for it is their own language they speak in - not yours.
The Crusade continues my friend. One day you will free a few of the Resources, and they will too will be Outside The Asylum (if not in your enclave, due to lack of space... I mean you already have a monkey in there and several large guns).
~~~In solidarity, The Good Reverend Payne, Messiah. Vivre Longtemps hors de L'Asile!
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
With permission, I would like to print this for postergasm.
I'm okay with you using my response, if you meant to include it.
Payne will have to answer for the rest.
hanks for your part as I think your answer is a TFYS moment.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:21:12 PM
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
For me, it speaks to the difference between "Not Making A Difference, Due To Scale", and "Not Making A Difference, Due To Inactivity". The alienation, it seems, is almost inevitable these days. Not so long ago we were encouraged to "Reach Out And Touch Someone"... If we do that today, we'll be arrested.
But you are not alone, with only your monkey. You are merely distant.
You are Fighting The Good Fight, and are not losing.
You are
here.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 06:20:37 PM
Quote from: Khara on August 17, 2010, 05:59:44 PM
You get to the point where as you say, you want to make bad decisions. You want to climb up on the arch and start shooting anyone wearing a yellow shirt because the color is just too fucking bright and happiness is no longer an option. You want to get on the bus and just start smacking people to see if they actually can wake up or if they are so deep in the mire of life's crap they just can't make themselves care anymore.
Happiness is an option. It's always an option. It's just HOW you get happy that may be subject to change.
I think my problem is I just don't care enough these days to go looking for it. Just choosing to be happy, stay positive, glass always half full doesn't work anymore. So maybe what it really is, is my seeing my own problems reflected in everyone's eyes around me and since smacking myself does no good......
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 17, 2010, 07:22:42 PM
With permission, I would like to print this for postergasm.
Feel free.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 17, 2010, 07:27:30 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 07:21:12 PM
That made me feel better, and that's good, because I was feeling pretty alienated. Still am, just not so much.
Thank God for Scotsmen. Even if they wear kilts so people don't know they've drunkenly shat themselves.
For me, it speaks to the difference between "Not Making A Difference, Due To Scale", and "Not Making A Difference, Due To Inactivity". The alienation, it seems, is almost inevitable these days. Not so long ago we were encouraged to "Reach Out And Touch Someone"... If we do that today, we'll be arrested.
But you are not alone, with only your monkey. You are merely distant.
You are Fighting The Good Fight, and are not losing.
You are here.
I gotta think about that a minute.
And I feel a need to torment the engineer. BRB.
Nicely done Dok. This got my bean working, just have to get clear of work and practice with tiem to shart it out.
Quote from: Richter on August 17, 2010, 07:58:18 PM
Nicely done Dok. This got my bean working, just have to get clear of work and practice with tiem to shart it out.
No hurry. I'll be here all the week, as the German comedian said.
It reminded me I jsut STARE sometimes. you know the 100 yrd. deal? I jsut didn't get it the hard way.
The bitch is, my mind may be in neutral, I can be as grim and grey as I like, I jsut can't stop SMILING ont eh inside. Like my face is jsut a bad joke spread out thin over a grinning skull. I stare at my monitor, my co workers, drivers on teh road, or my roomies, and they don't know I'm smiling. It makes me want to do that special laugh scream combo.
I'm OK really. Im durable,a nd damn lucky comapred to peopel with real problems. May as WELL smile. Rictus indeed.
Quote from: Richter on August 17, 2010, 08:11:15 PM
It reminded me I jsut STARE sometimes. you know the 100 yrd. deal? I jsut didn't get it the hard way.
The bitch is, my mind may be in neutral, I can be as grim and grey as I like, I jsut can't stop SMILING ont eh inside. Like my face is jsut a bad joke spread out thin over a grinning skull. I stare at my monitor, my co workers, drivers on teh road, or my roomies, and they don't know I'm smiling. It makes me want to do that special laugh scream combo.
I'm OK really. Im durable,a nd damn lucky comapred to peopel with real problems. May as WELL smile. Rictus indeed.
Richter, you DO in fact have a serious crazy vibe about you. It took me about an hour to get past that, on my first day in Providence.
On the other hand, there's no sense being sane in THIS nation. You'd be killed by the upside down people, and perverts would eat your brains.
Besides, you can always be counted on to explain things in ways that make sense (ie, the Sesame Street thing), even if everyone has to spend 3 days afterward waiting for the horripilation to go down so they don't look like frightened cats.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 06:49:50 PM
Quote from: Pēleus on August 17, 2010, 06:39:52 PM
Human resources? They are more like political janitors, they sit behind their desks pushing paperwork, handling the bananas to give out to the other monkeys. Sitting above these Janitor monkeys are the robots who demand the monkeys work for less bananas so the robots can have more oil. Whose bright idea was it to hire monkeys to work on the machines? Not sure maybe it was a robot, maybe it was a monkey...
All I know is I have to get up before the sun to sit in a large cage with other monkeys to the big tree, and earn a banana for the day.
One thing that I suddenly find very interesting is that we have old primates who don't do anything sitting on most of the bananas, and anyone who says that's wrong - or doesn't want to give the old primates more bananas - is called a "communist".
I mean, I've always known that, but now it intrigues me that so little effort is required to brainwash the smaller primates.
You feed the poor and your a saint,
you ask
why theyre poor and your a communist.
Quote from: Kingderp on August 17, 2010, 08:35:23 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 17, 2010, 06:49:50 PM
Quote from: Pēleus on August 17, 2010, 06:39:52 PM
Human resources? They are more like political janitors, they sit behind their desks pushing paperwork, handling the bananas to give out to the other monkeys. Sitting above these Janitor monkeys are the robots who demand the monkeys work for less bananas so the robots can have more oil. Whose bright idea was it to hire monkeys to work on the machines? Not sure maybe it was a robot, maybe it was a monkey...
All I know is I have to get up before the sun to sit in a large cage with other monkeys to the big tree, and earn a banana for the day.
One thing that I suddenly find very interesting is that we have old primates who don't do anything sitting on most of the bananas, and anyone who says that's wrong - or doesn't want to give the old primates more bananas - is called a "communist".
I mean, I've always known that, but now it intrigues me that so little effort is required to brainwash the smaller primates.
You feed the poor and your a saint,
you ask why theyre poor and your a communist.
This.
How ya doing, Dok?
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
Kind of surprised Alphapance didn't weigh in on the last 2 paragraphs of this. :sad:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:38 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:31:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
I don't think it would help, to be honest.
It didn't help Squiddy either. :sad:
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:33:59 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:38 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:31:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
I don't think it would help, to be honest.
It didn't help Squiddy either. :sad:
On Sunday, I'm printing a 3'X5' color poster of her smile and putting it up on my office wall.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:34:49 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:33:59 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:38 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:31:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
I don't think it would help, to be honest.
It didn't help Squiddy either. :sad:
On Sunday, I'm printing a 3'X5' color poster of her smile and putting it up on my office wall.
I think I need to see this smile.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:12 PM
Kind of surprised Alphapance didn't weigh in on the last 2 paragraphs of this. :sad:
I'm ramping up to pre-vacation PD levels. If I try reading everything all at once, my brain will implode.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 04:36:05 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:34:49 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:33:59 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:38 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:31:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
I don't think it would help, to be honest.
It didn't help Squiddy either. :sad:
On Sunday, I'm printing a 3'X5' color poster of her smile and putting it up on my office wall.
I think I need to see this smile.
Will post again from home.
Quote from: Doktor Alphapance on August 18, 2010, 04:36:25 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:12 PM
Kind of surprised Alphapance didn't weigh in on the last 2 paragraphs of this. :sad:
I'm ramping up to pre-vacation PD levels. If I try reading everything all at once, my brain will implode.
Ah.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:34:49 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:33:59 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:32:38 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:31:52 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 04:21:58 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 03:26:18 PM
How ya doing, Dok?
Smiling. I have a mile wide grin. Oh, yeah.
Oh dear.
Am I going to have to do The Smile Sermon again?
I don't think it would help, to be honest.
It didn't help Squiddy either. :sad:
On Sunday, I'm printing a 3'X5' color poster of her smile and putting it up on my office wall.
Print several, put them up on other peoples office walls.
Actually, I am begining to wonder if there is a possible way to combine all the dread aspects of leading Horror mongers on PD into one gargantuan visage of Terror
tm.
Squiddys smile, your eyes. Cainads nose etc.
If nothing else, it would make interesting cubicle art, and could inspire some truly insane jabbering content.
Quote from: Dok HowlAnd that's what makes all of this so interesting...You know something's not functioning as advertised, but you can still give a pretty damn good imitation of being you, and you're kind of stunned by that fact, as you watch yourself get through the day without causing any undue alarm in your friends, family, or coworkers. That's amazing, because your head is full of bad wiring and broken glass, and you really can't fathom how nobody is noticing it.
I get that, I
see that, here in the cubicle field. I listen to the chattering voiceboxes by the photocopier, and it's the vocal equivalent of a screen saver: pre-programmed content, running idle as the body goes through its daily chores.
I saw that on the faces in the airport, as they gazed at the screens by the gate showing redacted and bowlderized news programs... minds put on hold, brains in stasis.
In Montana, people asked me what I
do. I told them, "I'm a musician and an analyst. One keeps me alive, the other makes it worth living."
Quote from: Doktor Alphapance on August 18, 2010, 04:55:18 PM
Quote from: Dok HowlAnd that's what makes all of this so interesting...You know something's not functioning as advertised, but you can still give a pretty damn good imitation of being you, and you're kind of stunned by that fact, as you watch yourself get through the day without causing any undue alarm in your friends, family, or coworkers. That's amazing, because your head is full of bad wiring and broken glass, and you really can't fathom how nobody is noticing it.
I get that, I see that, here in the cubicle field. I listen to the chattering voiceboxes by the photocopier, and it's the vocal equivalent of a screen saver: pre-programmed content, running idle as the body goes through its daily chores.
I saw that on the faces in the airport, as they gazed at the screens by the gate showing redacted and bowlderized news programs... minds put on hold, brains in stasis.
In Montana, people asked me what I do. I told them, "I'm a musician and an analyst. One keeps me alive, the other makes it worth living."
Does it seem to you, that some days the people are all doing this in syncronized slow motion?
You have to pull back enough to get the large view, but yeah. It's like an enormous, incredibly boring dance, and just like in the original Cinderella, they won't stop until they bleed to death.
Quote from: Doktor Alphapance on August 18, 2010, 04:55:18 PM
I get that, I see that, here in the cubicle field. I listen to the chattering voiceboxes by the photocopier, and it's the vocal equivalent of a screen saver: pre-programmed content, running idle as the body goes through its daily chores.
I saw that on the faces in the airport, as they gazed at the screens by the gate showing redacted and bowlderized news programs... minds put on hold, brains in stasis.
In Montana, people asked me what I do. I told them, "I'm a musician and an analyst. One keeps me alive, the other makes it worth living."
1. They've all been, as Mr Waters put it, Amused to Death.
2. I tell people I'm the maintenance chief at a chemical refinery. Especially if they're hippies. And a Doktor. One keeps me alive, and one lets me punish the silly bastards that want to define me by my job.
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:10:24 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Remember the old movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Most of their responses were a lot like one of the invaders. They just wanted to point at me and scream.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:12:07 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:10:24 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Remember the old movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Most of their responses were a lot like one of the invaders. They just wanted to point at me and scream.
I consider that a success, of sorts. Sure, they didn't wake up MUCH, but they at least understood that something was going on that didn't fit into the sleep/work/drink/TV/sleep model.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:13:41 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:12:07 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:10:24 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Remember the old movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Most of their responses were a lot like one of the invaders. They just wanted to point at me and scream.
I consider that a success, of sorts. Sure, they didn't wake up MUCH, but they at least understood that something was going on that didn't fit into the sleep/work/drink/TV/sleep model.
But they immediately closed their minds and resorted to the same behavior.
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:14:55 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:13:41 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:12:07 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:10:24 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Remember the old movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Most of their responses were a lot like one of the invaders. They just wanted to point at me and scream.
I consider that a success, of sorts. Sure, they didn't wake up MUCH, but they at least understood that something was going on that didn't fit into the sleep/work/drink/TV/sleep model.
But they immediately closed their minds and resorted to the same behavior.
1. You can't win 'em all, and
2. You still fucked up their day. They deserved it.
Fair enough! :)
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:14:55 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:13:41 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:12:07 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on August 18, 2010, 05:10:24 PM
Quote from: Charley Brown on August 18, 2010, 05:09:52 PM
Excellent analogy. Glad I'm not the only who can see this. When I allow it to happen I am torn between wanting to shake them to wake them up or to leave them all to their trances. The few times I have tried to wake them up didn't work so well.
Why not?
Remember the old movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Most of their responses were a lot like one of the invaders. They just wanted to point at me and scream.
I consider that a success, of sorts. Sure, they didn't wake up MUCH, but they at least understood that something was going on that didn't fit into the sleep/work/drink/TV/sleep model.
But they immediately closed their minds and resorted to the same behavior.
Did your attempts at mass awakening involve public nudity? Because that might explain some of the reactions.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Payne on August 18, 2010, 04:38:48 PM
Print several, put them up on other peoples office walls.
Actually, I am begining to wonder if there is a possible way to combine all the dread aspects of leading Horror mongers on PD into one gargantuan visage of Terrortm.
Squiddys smile, your eyes. Cainads nose etc.
If nothing else, it would make interesting cubicle art, and could inspire some truly insane jabbering content.
:argh!:
...also, yes, I'm pretty sure this is possible. Some psychological studies that focus on people's reaction to faces make use of "fake" faces that are basically synthesized from many different faces to produce a face with certain qualities.
What you're describing would be pretty Mad Science-ish. Possibly toxic.
Dok, the more I ponder this situation, the more I understand and support how you're handling it. For all the posturing and pretending at "Order" or "Civilization", things are everywhere taking an odd slide into the mess. Every yammerer is findign an ear, every concern a placation. People are driving themselves mad with tiny self reversing reasonabiltites and middle ground solutions that cannot add up to a workable whole.
One little pig wanted to build his house out of stone. Another little pig wanted to build his house of of shit. The exploratory senate comitee on porcine building decided that a shit centric building rubric would be most sensitive to all parties, and subisized the contruction of horrible slouchign hovels. No one thought to suggest brick, except for a bright eyed intern who was strung up for cultural insensitivity.
The approach you described to me is the only sensible one really. Being a good spirited reasonable person with most of these impersonal jackholes will do nothing except discourage you. They won't reciprocate, and only wear you down for the people who are worth it. May as well be a nut at them. You know the Japanese concept of "tatami" right, it remidns me of that. The "Public face" for people you meet day to day and only interact with superficially? Makes sense. Maybe cyncial, but practical. (IIRC Tatami also refers to a basic woven floor mat. Again, makes some cynical sense.) Sort of reminds me of that. You've also got the tact and wherewithall know when to apply this as well, and when to be more level. I've seen this in your writing as well as what you do IRL.
(If my own experience is anything to go by, just be careful that the vibe doesn't get stuck "On", which it can.)
Quote from: Richter on August 18, 2010, 07:23:12 PM
Dok, the more I ponder this situation, the more I understand and support how you're handling it. For all the posturing and pretending at "Order" or "Civilization", things are everywhere taking an odd slide into the mess. Every yammerer is findign an ear, every concern a placation. People are driving themselves mad with tiny self reversing reasonabiltites and middle ground solutions that cannot add up to a workable whole.
One little pig wanted to build his house out of stone. Another little pig wanted to build his house of of shit. The exploratory senate comitee on porcine building decided that a shit centric building rubric would be most sensitive to all parties, and subisized the contruction of horrible slouchign hovels. No one thought to suggest brick, except for a bright eyed intern who was strung up for cultural insensitivity.
The approach you described to me is the only sensible one really. Being a good spirited reasonable person with most of these impersonal jackholes will do nothing except discourage you. They won't reciprocate, and only wear you down for the people who are worth it. May as well be a nut at them. You know the Japanese concept of "tatami" right, it remidns me of that. The "Public face" for people you meet day to day and only interact with superficially? Makes sense. Maybe cyncial, but practical. (IIRC Tatami also refers to a basic woven floor mat. Again, makes some cynical sense.) Sort of reminds me of that. You've also got the tact and wherewithall know when to apply this as well, and when to be more level. I've seen this in your writing as well as what you do IRL.
(If my own experience is anything to go by, just be careful that the vibe doesn't get stuck "On", which it can.)
I plan to act without thinking at all, for the next two weeks.
For SCIENCE.
Thinking, in most person to person situations, is USELESS. It is a process vulnerable to likes, dislikes, idiosyncracies, doubts, preferences, and magnifies personality or meat based faults. Working off-the-cuff can avoid this for anything you're deft / practiced at (or at least able to fake well)
Yes, the whole thread.
What gets me is that if i try to talk about something actually important, like fuckers putting poison in our water, or the "banana hoarders", or, you know, information that's actually pertinent to existing responsibly, the standard response is terror glazed over by complacency.
If I ask about the latest in the Mel Gibson scandal, or Perez Hilton, or The Hills or the Kardashians, it's like flipping a fucking "ON" switch and I can't get the person to shut the fuck up.
Also, I've been having these dreams for the last month, now. The general apocalypse theme has popped up in my dreams for the last year or so (that I remember), but specifically, I've had dreams of the Zombie Apocalypse. In fact, I dreamed of it last night. Where no place is safe, only safer. People sometimes turn into these zombies without having been, apparently, bitten. A few survivors and I were in our last bastion of safety, which was a house in a field. We were fending them off, battening every point of access, when suddenly, one by one, they ceased what they were doing and sat calmly on the couch. As the zombies began tearing the door off it's hinges, all I could find was an oversized door stop with which off to fend them. As they flooded the room, I started awake.
Then it occurred to me: The only difference between my dream and the "real" world was that the zombies haven't started eating people, en masse. Yet.
The OP resonates though I no longer work in the rabbit warren of cubicles I used to. I have to say the inanity of the chatter you find at the book club meetings and PTA functions I attend, in an effort to get out and not be so closeted with my own mental meanderings, leaves me open to a whole new aspect of drone-life. The women at these meetings are just going through the motions. There's no fire there, no ability to see beyond the end of their noses.
But I'm extremely unpopular amongst them, because I constantly give way to my habit of pointing out those things that are found 5 feet in front of them, in full view, but ignored. So there I am, constantly pointing them out (the failure of our social construct, the fact that the current Tea Party rhetoric is really anti-children, if you listen carefully, and more like these truthy-isms they really don't like to hear (some of them are shockingly anti-bigoted, like Mexicans aren't here to steal your jobs and Islam is NOT a cult of war))... That makes me the mom who's not invited to the beach, up to the park to have margaritas while the kids play on the playground, or out for happy hour.
After filching invites to these things, I realized I was better off without them. Because the insipid cows that bloviate constantly about "My Kid Did THIS!" and "My Husband Does THAT!" on Facebook have little else to say in private. My constant response, of course, is to say, "yes, but what about YOU?"
They really don't like that.
^ ^ This is me right now, as well. ^ ^
However, there has been some things I've come across, that, though I'm notta fighter *lola* I highly want to smack a few...
The fact that I have been a stay at home mom for a lot of years more than not does make me the authority on my children and their behavior. To have it ever suggested otherwise really makes me pissy. Especially by some that have no children of their own! Urgh...
Quote from: Ruby on September 24, 2010, 12:50:46 AM
^ ^ This is me right now, as well. ^ ^
However, there has been some things I've come across, that, though I'm notta fighter *lola* I highly want to smack a few...
The fact that I have been a stay at home mom for a lot of years more than not does make me the authority on my children and their behavior. To have it ever suggested otherwise really makes me pissy. Especially by some that have no children of their own! Urgh...
That thing you gobble cocks with?
Shut it.
Quote from: Jenne on August 19, 2010, 02:20:00 PM
The OP resonates though I no longer work in the rabbit warren of cubicles I used to. I have to say the inanity of the chatter you find at the book club meetings and PTA functions I attend, in an effort to get out and not be so closeted with my own mental meanderings, leaves me open to a whole new aspect of drone-life. The women at these meetings are just going through the motions. There's no fire there, no ability to see beyond the end of their noses.
But I'm extremely unpopular amongst them, because I constantly give way to my habit of pointing out those things that are found 5 feet in front of them, in full view, but ignored. So there I am, constantly pointing them out (the failure of our social construct, the fact that the current Tea Party rhetoric is really anti-children, if you listen carefully, and more like these truthy-isms they really don't like to hear (some of them are shockingly anti-bigoted, like Mexicans aren't here to steal your jobs and Islam is NOT a cult of war))... That makes me the mom who's not invited to the beach, up to the park to have margaritas while the kids play on the playground, or out for happy hour.
After filching invites to these things, I realized I was better off without them. Because the insipid cows that bloviate constantly about "My Kid Did THIS!" and "My Husband Does THAT!" on Facebook have little else to say in private. My constant response, of course, is to say, "yes, but what about YOU?"
They really don't like that.
I hate 90% of other moms. I especially hate "homemakers". I don't necessarily mean mothers who don't have outside jobs... I mean, mothers who do fuck-all besides have kids and a place to live, and act like that somehow takes up SO MUCH TIME. It CAN, if you give up your life and your personality and focus on Making Everything Perfect for Little Tyler, but normally what that really means is that they have gotten so used to having to do next to nothing that the relatively minimal effort it takes to scoot the brats off to school and vacuum the living room seems hard.
The great risk of being a "stay at home mom" (Fuck, I hate that nondescriptively vapid term) is that you can actually gradually lose your personality and connection with reality. I've seen it. It's scary as fuck. Ways to avoid that take many forms, ALL OF WHICH (and this is crucial) involve having interests OTHER THAN YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILDREN. There's Homestead Mom. There's Small Business Mom. There's Politics Mom. There's Social Justice Mom. There's Subversive Mom. There's Writer Mom. There's Bar Mom. There's Jock Mom. There's Outdoorsy Mom. There's Music Scene Mom. There's Crafty Mom. There's Combo Mom, who does three or more of the aforementioned and maybe mixes it up with a few other varieties.
The key is really just finding shit to think about and ways to interact that aren't all about Little Tyler, who is going to think women are total losers if he grows up seeing Mom not having any interests or personality of her own. Even if your personal interests are fucking crazy, like my stepsister-in-law who does AMAZING CRAZY SHIT in the middle of nowheresville WA where she is stuck with my stepbrother and their kids and as a consequence has taken up raising 300 banty chickens and making fucked up art that she posts on Facebook, and swearing a lot, it's better than becoming Boring Waste-Of-Air Lives For Her Kids Mom.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on September 24, 2010, 04:39:15 AM
Quote from: Ruby on September 24, 2010, 12:50:46 AM
^ ^ This is me right now, as well. ^ ^
However, there has been some things I've come across, that, though I'm notta fighter *lola* I highly want to smack a few...
The fact that I have been a stay at home mom for a lot of years more than not does make me the authority on my children and their behavior. To have it ever suggested otherwise really makes me pissy. Especially by some that have no children of their own! Urgh...
That thing you gobble cocks with?
Shut it.
:mittens: