I used to think any form of growth was unsustainable. Just like a perpetual motion machine it’s one of those things that’s impossible. (One of my favorite words.) Then, just now, sitting here, one of my brain cells did something. (It can happen.) For lack of any originality on my part let’s call it my latest theory, k?
Tom’s Theory #42 – Societal Asshole Leech Theory (SALT)
The percentage of leech-based humans is growing over time. Or, the more advanced a civilization the higher the amount of leechage.
As far as we know, there is no causal relationship with the number of pirates known to exist, but admittedly further testing is required. This is a work in progress. (I was on a break.)
98% of all email is spam. Of those messages, 98% attempt to deceive or infect. (The rest merely sell growth products like Viagra, the greatest achievement of our civilization and, dare I say, the entire universe and space-time continuum.) My web server is probed and attacked by cyber-terrorists (mostly from China and Russia) 36 hours a day. There’s an entire subset of humanity that does not have jobs and produces nothing of value yet still has food, shelter, cigarettes, pets, cars, smartphones and internet access.
Is this amount of leechage really on the rise or is it merely my touchy empirical perceptions?
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From time to time here in the Abyss we receive unsolicited manuscripts. I want to assure the loyal reader that Mrs. Abyss was not coached in any way, shape or form by yours truly and came up with the following missive completely on her own. She did steal my cow orker bit, though. -Ed.
This is a true account of one girl’s departure from the fiery pit of Hell known as… work. She had the courage to claw her way out but not before facing four long years of pain, suffering, under-appreciation, long hours, criticisms, crawling from under the bus, anger, hatred, hysterical laughter and gut-wrenching tears.
But alas she escaped, bloodied and with broken fingernails, scars across her back, evil images burned in her mind, clothes dirty and torn… but with a smile on her face. A smile of freedom.
I gave a three-week notice. I’m a sicko.
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I don’t know if I’ll try to answer that question. But I do know this: Watch both Zeitgeist movies, a few choice TED videos, and finish it off with the Story of Stuff and you might just say, “Brother, it sure as hell ain’t this!” And then depression sets in…
In my study of gerbils I have pondered mysteries both great and deep.
For Abyss newbies:
“Gerbil” is the term I have coined for younglings that fail to empty nest on schedule. And then, later, when they belatedly emerge from the nest sans high school diploma and any discernable life plan, they do things like go on food stamps, obtain medical marijuana cards (sore back), drink lots of alcohol, sleep until 5pm, stay up until 5am, take pictures of themselves smoking and post them on Facebook, and avoid jobs, school and self-improvement at all costs.
That’s the modern genus of gerbil that I am familiar with.
A Rush song famously said, “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.” Indeed. The modern gerbil lifestyle is a choice!
I took a gerbil aside one day and offered words that I thought, in my hubris, might somehow be wise.
Trust me on this. It ain’t easy coming back from a gerbil bite.
The other day when I wrote about Facebook being the new creepy I got so worked up and excitable that I completely forgot the point. The main point. Writing an entire article and forgetting the primary thrust. Yeah, that’s me in a nutshell. And in more ways than one, if you get my thrust. (Wink, wink.)
This is part two in our ongoing series entitled Shit I Forgot To Say. Enjoy!
Let’s say you’re the elite. You wisely went out and got yourself a shiny Facebook page.
You voluntarily put your real name on it.
You populated the account with a myriad of pictures of your wonderful countenance. Because the world needs more of that. Yeah.
And then, gasp, you did something truly out there. You went way beyond the pale.
You spoke the truth about that fig pucker, your boss.
Obviously you can never have a job again.
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