Monday, April 18, 2005
MNR
I do not know if I can really rant tonight. It has been a tough day, and I'm still feeling a tad uneasy over an experience I had at work this afternoon. Oh, it was so awful. My boss came in and . . . and . . . (sob) he had this really perturbed look on his face, like he was kind of a little annoyed. And I wondered what was wrong and then . . .
And then he put his hands on his hips and spoke in a slightly louder than usual tone of voice. He was so terrible - a monster really. I was reduced to tears for the rest of the day.
Can I work for such a cruel taskmaster? How do I know he won't come into my office again and speak to me in a less-then-soothing tone of voice? When will I see that beast place his hands on his hips to express at least mild displeasure in my work? I can't work in this environment. I can't I tell you. I just can't.
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Okay, I have gotten myself together now, for the good of the blog. (Whew, for a minute there I lost myself . . . I lost myself).
One of the beautiful things about living in Dupont Circle is the ability to take walks during the evening, particularly warm spring and summer nights, and to take in the surrounding neighborhood. Dupont, like DC in general is best during the warm time of year, and during this time of year one can count on seeing large groups of interesting people in the middle of the Circle itself. What's more, one can just about always count on some sort of group of wannabe hippies gathered in the middle by the fountain blathering on and on and on about something, usually about the vile and evil Lord Voldemort incarnate, George W. Bush. You know, the bumbling idiot who is also the clever and manipulative psycho genius bent on world domination.
Of course the merry revilers did not disappoint tonight. I guess there was a group of twenty or so, all decked out in their finest linen or whatever the hell, publicly displaying their lack of hygiene. And, as is there wont, banging on some bongos. Seriously, it is as if they purposely set out to live up to every stereotype that conservatives and others have of them. I mean, give up the bongos dudes, at least until you learn a new fucking tune.
It's such a common occurrence that I barely take notice. I grew up in New York, and quite frankly have always been nonplussed by the supposed weirdos that permeate other cities. Most prominent in my mind are the phonies in Little Five Points in Atlanta, a little part of town specifically created to be the "weird" section. Look, when you're actively trying to be weird you show yourself to be a decided dork, so trying hard to be unusual makes you look less like some unique firebrand and more like a total douche whose efforts at non-conformity are the ultimate in conformity.
But I digress. They were chanting some mindless slogan over and over again, as usual. Oh, here's another thing. You know, for a bunch of supposed free-thinking individualists, these progressive peaceniks always manage to chant like a bunch of mind-numbed robots devoid of any independent personality or ability to think outside of the usual slogans. It's 2005 folks, find something new and creative, or has all the pot finally sapped you of what creative energy you once had.
I guess it was heartwarming in its own way to hear these geniuses lament the failure of the insurgents to mount a powerful enough counter-attack to thwart the "imperialist" aims of the American military. Hearing some loopy maggot wax poetic about people who kidnap others and behead them on the internet really just touched my heart.
But instead of getting angry, I just smiled and noted the utter futility of their efforts. Just like every schmuck I drive behind who has a Kerry/Edwards bumper-sticker still on their car, the only word that came to mind as I walked past them was "LOSER." And I walked on, ready for another action-packed episode of "24."
And then he put his hands on his hips and spoke in a slightly louder than usual tone of voice. He was so terrible - a monster really. I was reduced to tears for the rest of the day.
Can I work for such a cruel taskmaster? How do I know he won't come into my office again and speak to me in a less-then-soothing tone of voice? When will I see that beast place his hands on his hips to express at least mild displeasure in my work? I can't work in this environment. I can't I tell you. I just can't.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, I have gotten myself together now, for the good of the blog. (Whew, for a minute there I lost myself . . . I lost myself).
One of the beautiful things about living in Dupont Circle is the ability to take walks during the evening, particularly warm spring and summer nights, and to take in the surrounding neighborhood. Dupont, like DC in general is best during the warm time of year, and during this time of year one can count on seeing large groups of interesting people in the middle of the Circle itself. What's more, one can just about always count on some sort of group of wannabe hippies gathered in the middle by the fountain blathering on and on and on about something, usually about the vile and evil Lord Voldemort incarnate, George W. Bush. You know, the bumbling idiot who is also the clever and manipulative psycho genius bent on world domination.
Of course the merry revilers did not disappoint tonight. I guess there was a group of twenty or so, all decked out in their finest linen or whatever the hell, publicly displaying their lack of hygiene. And, as is there wont, banging on some bongos. Seriously, it is as if they purposely set out to live up to every stereotype that conservatives and others have of them. I mean, give up the bongos dudes, at least until you learn a new fucking tune.
It's such a common occurrence that I barely take notice. I grew up in New York, and quite frankly have always been nonplussed by the supposed weirdos that permeate other cities. Most prominent in my mind are the phonies in Little Five Points in Atlanta, a little part of town specifically created to be the "weird" section. Look, when you're actively trying to be weird you show yourself to be a decided dork, so trying hard to be unusual makes you look less like some unique firebrand and more like a total douche whose efforts at non-conformity are the ultimate in conformity.
But I digress. They were chanting some mindless slogan over and over again, as usual. Oh, here's another thing. You know, for a bunch of supposed free-thinking individualists, these progressive peaceniks always manage to chant like a bunch of mind-numbed robots devoid of any independent personality or ability to think outside of the usual slogans. It's 2005 folks, find something new and creative, or has all the pot finally sapped you of what creative energy you once had.
I guess it was heartwarming in its own way to hear these geniuses lament the failure of the insurgents to mount a powerful enough counter-attack to thwart the "imperialist" aims of the American military. Hearing some loopy maggot wax poetic about people who kidnap others and behead them on the internet really just touched my heart.
But instead of getting angry, I just smiled and noted the utter futility of their efforts. Just like every schmuck I drive behind who has a Kerry/Edwards bumper-sticker still on their car, the only word that came to mind as I walked past them was "LOSER." And I walked on, ready for another action-packed episode of "24."
# posted by Paul Zummo : 9:48 PM
