Archive for January, 2012|Monthly archive page

Founder’s Day

In Big Brother, Cause, Office humor, SlavesInc, Wage Slaves on January 29, 2012 at 00:42

The giant screen imposes on your small-town sensibilities. Your lack of individuality mingles well with the thousand-plus crowd of slaves herded together. A familiar image of an old guy with a plain face greets you from every screen, poster and standee. He is clad in a tailored suit, the kind your father could never afford. From a certain angle, you guess he looks destiny-bound. But add a sliver to the side of his mouth and…Pure evil!

He is the founder of your slave-driving machine. Today, off course, is ‘Founder’s Day’. Most slaves are in a different mood today. Some are visually happier. This is probably because this is the one day you get paid without typing anything or staring at a back-lit screen. Some are anticipating better food at the event. Some are still indifferent. You…are trying to guard against the onslaught on your psyche. By now, the Old Man’s face is more familiar to you than that guy on the currency notes (…whatshisname?). With each passing year, the legend is pushed beyond the realms of possibility. If you are not discerning, after a couple of cycles of this propaganda, you will start believing your galley is God’s gift to mankind.

As the final session ends with the third video montage to his Greatness, your Founder, there is a surge of energy through the captive audience. As they hum along the corporate anthem, there is an eerie Big Brother feel to the whole affair. You hope the compliance is out of anticipation of complimentary refreshments at the end of the show and not out of subliminal mind control.

The buffet counters open to a wave of hungry subjects that carry you outside the hall/Panopticon. You can’t take this Orwellian nightmare any more. You hurry out with an imaginary Thought Police on your back. As luck would have it, you trip over a standee of the Old Man. As you lie on the floor, face to face with greatness. You realize he is just another old man, perhaps less anxious than you but very much mortal. You stand up and walk out, leaving the Old Man on the floor.

Finders keepers losers weepers


The Tetris of Life

In Commute, frayed ends of sanity, humor, music system, Office humor, work life balance on January 17, 2012 at 12:20

You know what you should be doing: sticking to a beat, keeping it simple, staying calm and being patient. But the options always seem too alluring.  You take another dash at it, ignoring the torrid past you have had with lady luck. No sooner do you take it; option 2 suddenly starts looking as bad as option 1, if not worse.

You are stuck on the freeway on the way back from work. Option 2, off course is the lane next to you. Like the story of your life and your career, the route you take turns out to be the longest. The lane you change to starts running slower than the one you left. If you could meet Murphy some day, you would break his condescending neck!

You remind yourself to stay calm and non-aggressive. There is green light at the end of the tunnel and you need to concentrate to get through this signal. The radio you have kept on to keep from feeling lonely is now getting on your nerves. The RJs constant jabbering sounds like a Duracell bunny high on Valium in front of a Karaoke machine! So you yell STFU at the radio forgetting momentarily that these things are conveniently meant for one-way communication.

As you hurtle towards the fateful green light along with others competing for the same prize, you can’t help but wonder what this must look like from top view. A high stakes game of Tetris perhaps, with the odds already stacked against you. The designated jerk in this pile-up (there always is one) makes an ambitious swipe from your right to make it through and ends up running it for everyone.

The ominous red flashes on your face. Another 15 minutes of your mortal existence written off. You hit the steering wheel, yelling in a murderous rage. To the onlooker, it may seem like you are singing along your favorite 80s power ballad (Love Bites…Love Bleeds!).

If your day dreams consist of getting all green lights,

If you compulsively check your dash board only to be disappointed every time,

If all can you do after reaching home is sleep; only to begin another day…

…you know what you should be doing: Pitching a tent in your office parking lot, you don’t have much of a life in the outside world anyway.


Office Party

In Friday, humor, Interpersonal, Office humor, Party on January 6, 2012 at 01:39

Your body has gotten used to the forced comfort and your mind is abuzz. Your senses are being blasted from all directions but without any coherence. Some faces are familiar, others a blur. Some are hard on the eyes. But you are having a good time. You had better be having a good time now…

It is the office after party. It lies somewhere between dull and dicey, interpersonal and intrusive. It starts off as an extended Friday and can end as a social disaster. It is not the most screenworthy of parties but nothing like a free tab to get slaves to a rally.

Three tall ones down, you are hit by sudden clarity. You don’t feel so lost anymore. It is like your entire office got teleported to a bar. All the characters: Head Slave, the Cribber, the bright spark, loose fit Larry are there. They are in the same position/disposition and posture you are used to seeing them: behind a desk, slouching over a screen, cup in hand, hand scratching head and so on. Only the lights are not as bright and the coffee machine is replaced by a beer dispenser.

The topics of conversation are also the same, only louder due to the crappy music and intoxication on the house. Fourth one down, things start moving in slow motion. Like a Guy Ritchie movie, you can foresee the near future. You are pretty sure the cribber will continue to crib till somebody gathers the courage or the blood alcohol level to tell her to STFU. You can also see that too-tight Tim and the fat guy whose name you can never remember are going to come to blows. Meanwhile, the intern is being provoked by well-meaning seniors to chug one more glass which he will puke out any moment.

In an instant, you decide to press the eject button. Dragging your coat behind, you slip away like a cat. As the door closes behind, you can almost visualize vomit smearing colleagues and onlookers, punches landing on rounded cheeks and pot bellies and the choicest words ringing out over the music.  You could have stayed back and made a video. But you are not a big fan of YouTube.

You so need to meet new people.

–          J.

2011: Rise of The Slave

In Blogging, Cause, Office humor, SlavesInc, Wage Slaves on January 3, 2012 at 02:19

‘The first step to realizing your dream is to stop living someone else’s.’

…is a dose of truth I recently came across in print.

SlavesInc. has not been your typical Occupy movement, nor have we overthrown any dictators. But we have certainly awakened to modern-day bondage and had a few chuckles along the way. Even Spartacus took years to cause any serious damage.

More importantly, we resisted using stock images such as:

When WordPress sent sleek-looking stats for SlavesInc’s first year of operation, one could not help but share it with fellow wage  drones. Here it is:

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s a flattering excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 16,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.