Friday, December 20, 2002 

Cheese Whiz-dom

Yesterday in a flurry of thoughts, it occurred to me that wisdom is simply observation.

It’s the ability to step away from the pile and recognize it as a pile. “Hey, it’s a pile.”

It’s actually the same principle that humour is based on. That Jewish comedian who had his own hit comedy show there…. He was a master of observation. All he would do was simply SAY… what everybody already KNOWS.

….and that’s funny.

Ironically, in observing this, I show wisdom…. Which is the ability observe.

So, I have observed that observing is wise, making me…. wise…or, an observer.

Absurd.






Thursday, December 19, 2002 

Thinking Inside the Box

I got a voicemail yesterday from my former half-boss. Or maybe it was from half my former boss. Not sure of the correct terminology here.

I left my last job well over six months ago. It took them until yesterday to follow up about how I charged my new business cards to the old department. They'd known about it since October.

So far it's taken one voicemail and two e-mails to confirm that yes, they should charge the cards to the new department. The day's not over yet.


This was the second managerial act they performed during my entire stint as their insubordinate.

Is this how they maintain half-employment?






Thursday, December 12, 2002 

Epiphany

I just walked past a woman who was meticulously sketching a snow covered tree. She was doing so on the glass door to her office using a bright green Crayola marker.

It was EXACTLY at this moment that I realized how much I hate this time of year.

How much I hate the parties and lunches and everything green and red and snowy and religious. The phoniness of greeting cards and decorations and retail and tacky sweaters. The reams of shimmery, glimmery festivated shrapnel that sear everyone’s senses to the point where once intelligent people have been reduced to drunk-on-punch, rosy cheeked humanoid shells paying homage to something that they’ve never known or seen.

It’s a festering potluck of the damned.






Wednesday, December 11, 2002 

Souled Out

I am reading a fictitious book right now about an editor who discovers the ULTIMATE self-help book. Actually, I’m not reading it RIGHT NOW… I’m typing RIGHT NOW… but you get the picture. And the book itself isn’t actually fictitious… I mean, it EXISTS… the STORY is fictitious. With that said, I pose this question to the universe:

“Has anyone, in the history of self-help books, ever read something that inspired them to help themselves? I mean REALLY help themselves? To change their lives… and not just the bullshit quotes you hear on infomercials or read on the back cover of these pages of self-proclaimed inspiration.”

Realistically, self-help books help those who publish and write them… by making them rich. Has anyone REALLY received life-changing-soul-nourishment from any volume of symbolic text-based Soup?

Yet, people buy them fanatically…. because, hey, no one ever chokes to death on Soup.






Tuesday, December 10, 2002 

Rage Against The Latrine

There was little I could have done to prepare myself for the disheveled souls and the dishonest stench of the men’s restroom on the IT floor of this black tower. Not even the skillful prose of J.R.R. Tolkien in all his middle-earth-imagery could have told this tale of sadness and funk.

And now…. this, this is my home.






Thursday, December 05, 2002 

Holiday Office Sing-Along

Christmas Carols for Your Psychiatrically Challenged Co-Workers:

Schizophrenia
--- Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder
--- We Three Queens Disoriented Are

Dementia
--- I Think I'll be Home for Christmas

Narcissistic
--- Hark the Herald Angels Sing About Me

Manic
--- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and......

Paranoid
--- Santa Claus is Coming to Get me

Borderline Personality Disorder
--- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

Personality Disorder
--- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
--- Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells...

(As forwarded to me)