Working truly is the curse of the drinking classes. I think it's high time I moved in on a career in politics. They really seem to have it all worked out.
Well, it's a lovely Thursday afternoon here in the Mother City (best Charles Fortune voice) and it's almost time to bugger off. Perhaps I'd be more suited to professional beach bum than duly elected criminal. But that's just a pipe dream. Yet another promising career option flushed down the uncorrugated privy due to my fair skin.
Speaking of careers, I studied for a very long time. The net result was a very larney degree in something highly respected and potentially very lucrative. Do not be fooled. I simply enjoyed student life too much. It afforded me all the time in the world to pursue my one true love, music. In highschool this would have been that other girl, but that's a whole other story. Anyway, I was lucky enough to be in a number of bands. Some people even remember them. Even if my dear ol' Mum never quite got to grips with the teething stages of my self taught guitaring or my more questionable musical influences.
So guess where I end up. Over qualified. Under experienced. And the bottom of the new dispensation's totem pole. This seems to be a current bone of contention among those fortunate enough to own computers and have the intrawebnets. It's been going on since the previously repressed of our brethren were given the opportunity to exact some form of redress. I am no bleeding heart, but the nature of humankind is hardly such a puzzling mystery. We live on a continent (and I daresay in a world) where atrocities far worse than the Employment Equity Act are carried out with carpet bombing monotony. Imagine being a middle class urbanite in Syria. "Oh fuck! We've got oil! Quickly, the Americans are coming!"
I'd say that we still have it pretty good, and whilst I empathise with everyone who opposes this nonsense on principle, I think it's a prudent idea to take a step back, utter the stress relieving phrase "whoooosah!", find out all the facts, form an educated opinion, vote with your feet and thank Heaven that you don't have to live in war torn regions, or even worse, Australia. You are in the enviable position of still being able to find gainful employment outside of the corporate sector, which is where all these evils lurk.
And always remember, if you are going to vote with your feet, do so fairly and consistently. Investigate where Fruit & Veg source their orange "close to extinction" fish. Find out if the clothes you wear are made in Oriental sweat shops. Do research on the lifestyle afforded the cow that gave its life for your shoes, jacket or steak.
Now imagine a white cashier at your local leading chainstore. You'd be secretly bemused or surprised wouldn't you?
Thought so...
This world is sick. It is overpopulated and everyone is in a mad, avaricious frenzy to literally squeeze blood from stone. There isn't enough to go around and it's starting to show. So instead of taking up a crusade, live like it's your last day on Earth.
Dance like no one is watching.
And fuck like you're being filmed.
NGDG: I absolutely loathe having to do even a meagre smidgen of work on a weekend. It brings back the misery of Sunday homework, without the benefit of instructional clarity. I probably don't have Mnet because subconsciously I can't abide the Carte Blanche jingle either.
Spread The Love. Shop Where South Africa Shops, m'kay?
No comments:
Post a Comment