My co-workers and I have been ordered to make more bricks with no straw. Fallen fellow slaves must be stepped over. No one has time to bury them. The overseers in the capital have informed us it doesn't matter if the bricks are any good or not. We are not allowed to test the bricks or even care if they are strong and straight. If they crumble once they are out of our hands, it doesn't matter. We use the crumbs to make more bricks that won't be strong.
The only thing that matters is how many bricks we turn out per day. Actually, that's not even true. The only thing that matters is how many bricks the ledger says we make per day.
You see, it isn't allowed to care about the bricks. No one cares about the bricks. No one uses bricks anymore. There is concrete and steel and the overseers would rather tax us to create new concrete and import steel.
There are so many bricks and bits of bricks and broken, crumbled bricks on the streets. They hurt the feet of the overseers. They mess up the landscape. Sweep them away! Forget them!
Of course, the overseers must appear to care a little bit about bricks. So we are employed to make them and fix them. But it's not that important to appear to care about bricks. Bricks don't vote. And since bricks aren't important, those who work with bricks aren't important either.
We should be damn happy that we aren't bricks ourselves. We should be damn happy that our overseers don't use the whip more often than they do. Thank you, thank you Masta!
Please don't let me fall today. I don't want to be stepped over by those with whom I work. Please don't let me fall.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
I work in a situation that is often dangerous. I work with murderers, rapists, thieves, liars and sociopaths. . . . and then there are my patients. So you'd think that nothing much could rattle the clinic as a whole, wouldn't you? But you'd be wrong.
Today a patient spotted a little lizard in my office. It was a shy, cute little thing. When I was alone I gave it a little saucer of water and some goldfish food because I was fresh out of lizard food. I named my new friend Jarrod after a guy who used to work down the hall and played a mean air guitar.
But word got out and #2 boss freaked out. I was afraid she'd scare Jarrod, so I closed my office door in her face. Maintenance was called to dispose of Jarrod. I stood fast. Then #1 HR person arrived and Jarrod was ordered out. I gave him a ride in a coffee cup and he was relocated to a tree outside the back door.
Let me just restate some things for you. My life and the lives of the people with whom I work have been threatened. I've been assaulted at work. People to whom human life is worth less than their next high are constantly in the building along with people who believe the CIA is ordering them to kill all people who have on red shirts. People have tried to kill themselves in my office. These things are no big deal.
But God forbid there is a 4 inch lizard in my office. It's unsafe. It might have germs. I just don't get it.
Of course, I'm happy for Jarrod. I'm sure he's happy in the tree. Either that or he's been eaten by a crow. Either way, I'm sort of jealous
Monday, February 21, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
I've been thinking about Earth Day. April 22, guys, time to start planning.
The first Earth Day, my class and I walked the streets of Carthage Illinois and picked up trash, which we deposited on the court house lawn. Unfortunately, I don't remember recycling it after we made our point. But now older, wiser and oh so much more beautiful, I think it's time for a little more street walking.
Hopefully, we all take a daily walk of some sort, even if it's from the car to the office door. So I propose we start carrying a bag with us and pick up stuff along the way. Only this time, instead of dumping it on the court house lawn, recycle it.
If you want to do this in style, you could visit the Universal Pantheist zazzle store linked from http://universalpantheist.ning.com/ and buy a tote bag, Tshirt, or hat to wear while you do this, but you really don't need that part. The beauty of this activity, is that you can do it any day, wearing anything from a business suit to nothing at all. While the latter may better show your love of all things natural, it may also get you arrested.
Anyway, the idea isn't about what you wear, it's about what you pick up and recycle. And I think the idea could catch on. If others see an unlittered area, or better yet, see a respectable person such as yourself picking up litter and recycling it, they will surely want to do the same. And I think they'll be less likely to toss an aluminum can or a (gasp!) plastic bottle out their car window.
And folks will see you always carrying your reusable bag and ask what's up. And you can tell them what's up. And the Earth will hold you lovingly and ob-la-di, ob-la-da life will go on. It's such a small thing to do for Mother.
You were always waiting for this moment to arrive, so come on. . . . . why don't we do it in the road?