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Archive for the ‘conspiracy theories’ Category

Relevant Experience Junkie

In conspiracy theories, humor, true enlightenment, Wage Slaves, work life balance on July 20, 2017 at 19:41
In the end we are all just chasing experiences. Experiences that crystallize into memories and add to the narrative that somehow convinces you everyday that life is worth getting out of bed for. Getting high is an experience, so is attending a comedy show. Some are deemed legal by the ruling majority, some are sneered upon and others are punishable by law. We are all dealers then separated only by the sensibilities of the owners of the country.
dude-the-big-lebowski
Money is just a common language that facilitates the scores. But some people get high on just the money, too many people if we go by the distribution of wealth in the world or rather the lack of distribution. All that money locked up in nameless offshore accounts and tasteless jewellery. Such a travesty. All the highs you could buy with that money, it would take you to the Milky Way and back. But it lays with a man who is happy just knowing that he can buy a lifetime’s worth of experiences with it but is still busy hoarding more money. May be does not know what he wants, what truly gets him high. So he goes for the next best thing, making others believe that he has bought happiness itself, with warranty.
But hoarding is the opposite of happiness. Money, clothes, social hierarchy and job designations, hoarded for an eventual cosmic audit that will never happen. Energy always dissipates. You either buy illusions of control or you let go and enjoy the free-fall. But first you must find your drug and let it consume you. Metaphorically of course. Physical abuse is just a waste of protoplasm. And the system can’t let you waft away so easily. Who will pay all those taxes?
– Punit Pania

Slavedom Cometh

In Big Brother, conspiracy theories, humor, Office humor, SlavesInc, Wage Slaves on April 3, 2012 at 02:53

You don’t believe in religion, you have never known why. Perhaps, it is the effort-reward ratio that never appealed to you. It also seems a lot easier to go through life without a surveillance junkie overlooking your inconsequential existence. Sure He will be your Savior, but he also accepts credit cards.

You are not one of those militant atheists though. So you observe the quirks of the God-fearing tribe from a safe distance, without comment but with amusement. One such soul sits right across from your cube. Every day you see him offer elaborate prayers to a pantheon of godly beings that adorn a tray atop his rowing station. Only after a couple of minutes of this ritual does he sit down to work on excel sheets for 8 hours.

On this auspicious day, his ritual is broken by an even Higher Power. Mid-way through his fervent mutterings, an announcement erupts over the speakers. Today is the unveiling of a New Grand Design by the Powers that be, something about pan-organization efficiency. Most colleagues, still groggy, seem jilted as they look heavenwards to make sense of the ordinance. Like all historical occasions, Slaves are required to wear company colors. You, off course have forgotten. Your refusal to maintain calendar entries has cost you once again but the delusion of freedom it gives makes up for the inconvenience.

The announcement directs you to move to the parking lot. No other place in the building can accommodate all 200 slaves at the same time. This is going to be big.

You get an eerie feeling as you trudge along the congregation of working class people dressed in uniform. You are greeted by bright lights and instrumental music when you enter the lot. Without asking you for your approval, a group of volunteers slaps wristbands on you marking the occasion. Cattle tag attached, you spill over wherever the crowd takes you.

The Overlord is here today dressed in a three piece. He seems content overlooking the flock from the vantage of the podium. He wastes no time in getting down to business.

As fellow slaves behold with varied emotions; eagerness, bewilderment, anticipation, you are busy finding human walls to hide the non-compliance of your wardrobe.

Overlord’s speech seems well-rehearsed and almost evangelical. All the hallmarks of a covenant are there: Vague promises of utopia, certainty of penance required to get there, a routine prescribed for it and…hand holding. Yes, to mark this communion, all slaves are required to hold hands to form a chain of like dressed creatures as the theme song is played out. A video camera follows this human chain to capture the lameness for posterity. You know those stock photos of a differently colored stick figure standing out in a crowd or a green apple in a collection of red ones? You are the green/rotten apple here and there is no escaping it at least till the song is over.

Thankfully, it ends before homophobia takes over you completely. You wipe your hands and hurry to immerse yourself in the crowd. Far away, you see Head Slave’s head bobbing up through the sea of salaried humanity. He is coming towards you and he doesn’t seem happy. You can’t take more preaching on this day and make a run for it.

As the flock jostles to get through the alleyway, no one seems to have noticed the back exit. No one except you, you green apple! You make a dash for it and escape to the free air of a non-enclosed environment. You need to take a walk.

You don’t believe in religion, now you know why.

–          J.

Born To Follow

In Cause, conspiracy theories, humor, Office humor, Organisation, SlavesInc, true enlightenment, vitamin d deficiency, Wage Slaves on December 5, 2011 at 12:37

God made procrastination so we could sit around, admire nature, bask in the sun and never be deficient in Vitamin D. You would so like to do that. But having come eons past the hunter gatherer stage, you have to earn your living; simply being born does not count. It is difficult. Some overcome this primeval urge to bask; and harden into modern day achievement. Others end up doing jobs.

Your profound insight comes from staring long enough at the most unremarkable of places, you desk. Littered everywhere are hieroglyphs of your employer and its ultra noble mission. They also make some serious profits. But that is more of a byproduct of their lofty ethics and dizzying ‘goals’. You may not remember what grade your kid studies in. But if someone slaps you out of sleep in the middle of the night, you can recite your company theme and pledge without blinking.

You are not a memory gymnast nor are you an exceptionally committed slave. It is just that the branding is hard to miss. It is everywhere, like the skulls on Skull Island. Troopers have their fatigues. You have caps, pens, mugs and even underwear identifying your enslaver. It creeps up on you till you are a part of it. And you play along; it is not like you have some great plans of your own anyway.

You do not resist when this branding is taken one step further. You are the first one to start wearing a badge of the new corporate logo over your breast pocket, close to the heart. Years of subliminal messaging has to be overwritten here. So you act like a good sport and give up thoughts of vain rebellion. At least, they are not printing bar codes or inserting chips in you, yet.

But you do make a note to yourself:

You had better start working for a cause of your own; else people will make you work for theirs.

Hamster Paradise

In conspiracy theories, Head Slave, Hiearchy, humor, SlavesInc, true enlightenment, Uncategorized, Wage Slaves on November 28, 2011 at 13:34

Have you ever got the feeling that you are paddling away in a trance? Like a long drawn hypnosis that is hard to tell from reality. Like some Art of Living mojo you heard while on the herb. Has to be some out of the ordinary explanation that keeps you slogging away in the ordinary. How else could one mire in this daily drudgery till death or old age prevail?

There must be thousands if not millions of hamsters like you at it every day. You cannot fathom how your drone-like paper pushing ultimately makes business happen, generates revenue, satisfies share holders and credits your monthly ration.

Its 2 pm in the afternoon. And it is just like you to drift into a heady day dream post lunch.

Just when you think you are on to something…the phone rings to snap you out of realization. It is Head Slave and he wants you in this cabin with the Acme contract. You rush in trying to collect your thoughts only to find HS even more disoriented.

‘We have 9,000 employees in 73 countries and we can’t get an auditorium entry?’ HS was demanding of his secretary.

‘They have been all booked for a week sir,’ explained Sec.

‘I am Vice President of this enterprise,’ reasoned HS.

‘Sir, there are 123 Vice Presidents globally, Head Office had only reserved seats for 90,’

In visible disbelief, HS turns to you. He keeps staring having forgotten why he had called you in. At this time, he would probably have trouble recalling your name too. Finding HS in this very pedestrian situation, you too forget what you were there for.

After an awkward few seconds, you wisely step out and slip into the comfort of your pointless but peaceful existence.

Knowledge is power but ignorance is bliss.

J.

Theme Song

In Boss, conspiracy theories, Office humor, Organisation, Wage Slaves on October 24, 2011 at 02:22

Wide smiles, vibrant colors and perfect sunsets. Community, camaraderie…utopia. No twisted ankles, no traffic jams, no troubles. No stress, no back aches, no empty calories. You can also sense vague but spastic music and distantly jarring rhymes.

No, you are not at the carnival nor have you licked a stamp. You are being subjected to…the corporate theme song. More pompous than a self-titled rap album, more lame than a Friends re-run, it seems custom made to irk, itch and ­annoy. There are more ethnic varieties of employees than the United Nation’s Assembly, more scene-esque locales than a tourism commercial. For a creature of the cubicle such as you, this seems cruel and unusual punishment. But it could be worse: may be there are subliminal slave control messages in the video.

Since you have to stand up every darn time they play it, letting your mind drift is also difficult. The best you can do is mix truly felt contempt with plastered-on smile to produce a neutral look on your face. By the time the second verse starts, cracks are appearing on your solemn face, revealing lines of dissent. With immaculate timing, Head Slave catches you by the elbow. ‘Sing along sport!’ he bellows over the music. You didn’t even notice he had crawled next to you, so enthralling were the stock images in the video. Now you will have to pay some improvised lip service. Your mouth is already half open in mock-sing along but no voice escapes it. Lip syncing is easy when you are standing next to the speaker but it would be a lot easier if you knew the lyrics. The emotion you need is ‘Acme Sales Corporation: A wholly owned subsidiary of Acme International is God’s gift to mankind.’ But you would have to be method actor to fake it.

You survive this round but there will be no escaping come the sales meeting you have to conduct next week. Not only will you have to ‘sing’, you will have to get fellow slaves to participate. In the absence of options, you will manage somehow. At least, you will use the word sell-out more prudently in the future.

– J.

Daylight Saving Time

In circadian rhythms, conspiracy theories, day of creation, Health, humor, nine to five, Office, rare occurrence, Technology, Wage Slaves on September 6, 2011 at 03:16

As you near the gates, your steps grow anxious. You are still trying to determine if this is really happening. You have a look of heightened disbelief on your face as you approach a familiar milestone. But it looks different, better, happier. As you finally step out, “Daylight!” you utter loudly ‘Daylight,’ the guard concurs affording a faint smile.

This is not the last scene of a formulaic prison movie. This is you leaving office on time; it is a rare occurrence, a blue moon. For a few seconds, you just stand there, not knowing what to do next. Your eyes are still adjusting to the extra lumens, your nose taking in whiffs of what actually feels like cleaner air. You want to do a Hulk and tear off the shirt but prudence is hard to shake off even in broad daylight. This is your interview shirt but you can afford to loosen your collar, let your hair down and call it a day (sic).

You have still not understood why your galley pulls the blinds and uses flourescent lighting throughout the day. It does not fit the penny-pinching personality of Slaves Inc. You can think of numerous evil reasons why artificial light would be imposed: to develop detachment from nature, induce vitamin D deficiency, scrambling circadian rhythms, acclimatize to never-ending shifts… But there will be loads of time for conspiracy theories tomorrow, and the day after. Today, you need to make the most of day light hours. A quick nap seems appropriate. Sure there is a mountain of work to climb tomorrow. But for now, the demons of your desk seem to have sublimated like Vampires in sunlight.

– J.