Last night I started a fire. I have one of those outdoor fire bowls set up in the yard and decided to enjoy the evening’s warmth. There are certain aspects of my life, certain talents that I do very well. Fire starting and tending is one of them. No, I am not a pyromaniac, well not really. And a lot of it depends on your wood. But I can take two pieces and rub them together to make the sparks fly. A little bit of fanning and orange tongs of cellophane leap from the tinder. Lovingly caressing the branches until they burst into flames. There was a time when things like that mattered. When beings Human was important. But then people went and screwed it up. So to hell with it all, and to hell with this. What the fuck am I doing here? I really need to get a life.
The sun appeared over the horizon and it was like,… dawn. Another day, another 25 cents, bad economy you know. Morning coffee went down harshly, biting and constriction my throat with it’s sugary greasy feel, just the way I like it. Then it was off for the half hour ride to the mothership. The Mother takes really good care of me. She encourages and praises me for being such a good corporate whore. Like I mentioned, I have talents. They all lay exhausted and trembling from pleasure before I am through. Last night’s was particularly sweet. By the time she hit number 4, I had her screaming like a school girl who just won Justine Beiber tickets. The mother will thank me for that this morning. That Admin will be reinvigorated and devoted to the corp, besides glowing. The Mother always loves that, the devotion. The blinder the better.
On a daily basis I am appalled at what I see. The other day I was speaking to my neighbor, a nice enough guy. I am not that close with my neighbors, nor do I need or want to be. We talk, wave at each other when cutting the lawn. I don’t need to be best friends with them. Like I said, he’s a nice enough guy. A Vietnam War vet, very involved with the VFW in town and state. He’s part of the VFW Honor Guard. You know, dresses up in uniform and does the flag and gun salute bit at funerals. He tells me that they have been very busy lately, 2 to 3 funerals a week. So get this, he tells me that they are mostly young guys and gals, returning soldiers from Iraq who have committed suicide, PTS. WHAT!! I can not believe this, but this guy has no reason to lie. How did we come to this? How as Human Being can we allow this to happen? We can build smart bombs and automatic drones. We have this World Wide Web thing going on and five thousand cable TV channels. But we can not reach out and help someone in need, who’s in angst and pain. What have we become?
The Mothership opens to allow me in. It embraces me with it’s corporate arms. The mother winks at me and smiles. “Thanks for the work last night”, she says. “We love it when you work off the clock for us”. Your welcome Mother, anything for you, I tell her. “Yes”, she says, “I know. Now your first appointment this morning is to meet with Wendy VP of Corporate Compliance. She has a need to comply, so I want you to sweet talk your tech to her. Whisper code quietly in her ears and when you feel like she’s ready, strip down her firewall piece by piece. Gently touch upon her programs and ping her connectivity until it vibrates. Slowly walk her through step by step until she gets a leg up and takes stock in it. Do it on her Desktop and then backend her laptop. And when she’s finally at her ends, push her buttons until she has downloaded over and over everything she has”. Yes Mother, I am a good corporate whore. “Good” says the Mother, “I want her pleased beyond her wildest dreams”. They always are Mother, I am a good corporate whore.
Armatrons with no real feelings. Programmed hardware that can’t truly experience anything. Yet I am told that I should go on line and fill out the 20 questions of compatibility. Then I can find a real match and will be complete. A real life the TV proclaims. Burn it all and throw it in the fire. Completely engulfed by flames the fire burns bright. Roaring thru the night, lighting up the darkness, casting it’s glow thru the black growing abyss. In the solitude I dance around the fire, chanting my mantra and calling for wholeness. Primitive and naked, I scream to deaf ears and wish that the fire would reach out and touch one real thing. Last night I started a fire, that burned ever so brightly, but by morning it was gone. I guess it wasn’t very good wood. And I’m typing this shit. I got to get a life.
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