Tuesday 26 March 2013

Let Cynicism be thy Shield in the Battle between Good & Evil


It's been some time since I've blogged. On occasion, I'm struck by inspiration to write something for what some might call "the digital space" (before mounting their Vespa scooter and scooting off to the latest hole in the wall for a single origin piccolo and a pow wow about social media strategy) but then the idea grows to unwieldy proportions, and I realise it's probably a lot easier to faff about in the Facebook feed and follow the unfolding of people whose lives are as uneventful as my own. Perhaps even more uneventful (I average 3.14 likes per post, which as you know is Pi to two decimal places).

That is terribly cynical I know. I saw this inspirational image on the internet (or as it's now known - 'Facebook') recently:


Thanks for your insights George S. Patton, and your efforts against the Kaiser. But correct me if Wikipedia has got it wrong, but in your youth you had "difficulty learning to read and write" and you also fenced, which means you weren't just a nerd, you were a stupid one at that.

The famous General experimented with blunt swords before he realised guns were much better instruments with which to KILL.


I display my cynicism as proudly as my hairdresser Adrian does his midriff at a well-known parade through Sydney's Oxford St. I once held a job for the grand total of one day in which said trait was key to my self-dismissal. They advertised themselves as a 'marketing firm' but essentially it was one of those charity mugger schemes.

After a solid two hours training we were sent out to some God-awful shopping mall on the arsehole of the earth where we sat behind a card table and tried to guilt people into signing up to a monthly direct debit payment that got them multiple entries in a raffle. The proceeds went to charity, and to making sure that the guy who owned said 'marketing firm' had enough money to support his appetite for performance vehicles and blackmarket infant livers. I didn't ask what he liked to do with them, that's between him and Satan.

Given my noob status I was put under the supervision of some bubbly young lady (Kristy, Kirsty?). Her main tactic was to whisper with fierce amiability at passersby, who would cock their ears confused and wander in. "Dont! It's a trap!" I would whisper at them as best I could, but alas, it was too late...

I think the worst part of the job was the morning 'pump up', in which the owner and his 2IC - a man more neck than head, with one of those stupid haircuts (short all over with one little tuft sticking up, he looked like a sucked mango pip) - would harp on about what a "yooooj" day it was going to be for the business. They even ceremoniously presented a little trophy to the most successful scammer from the previous day. Oh, and to make things just that much more cringeworthy, they scored this sinister scene with a stereo playing the "ince ince" backing track you get on the Kyle & Jackie O Hour of Power. Appropriately motivated, the boss, that modern day Fagan, sent out his legitimised pickpocket minions to rob the masses.


In closing a quote from Oscar Wilde: "I have never met any really wicked person before. I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like every one else."

I'll tell you what he looks like Oscar. Your friendly local real estate agent. Or this guy on the left...



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