I have no ass and I must poop!

[Ruby]

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.

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.

[Doktor Howl]

Really, Ruby...Isn't this thread just a little...vulgar for your tastes?

[Hoser McRhizzy]

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.

[Adios]

Dear gods. I can hear the bleating of the sheep from here.

[Aucoq]

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?

[Doktor Howl]

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.

[Ruby]

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.

[Payne]

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!

[Doktor Howl]

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.

[Doktor Howl]

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.

[Adios]

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.

[Doktor Howl]

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.

[Adios]

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.

[Payne]

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.

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

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......