This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.                             the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil

        20031023   

iMike is such a dumb name.
Michael considered fate at 11:32   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
Like i'm some sort of cheap fad, silly imitation program, marketing scheme. I am not a marketing scheme.

Sometimes I think people walk around in life expecting to be sold, like they wait for the salesmen of the earth to come and show them how to live, where to go, what to buy. A salesman, that most slippery of creatures, embodies the desires of the meak, the weak, the desireless masses - salesmen are the fillers of the void that threatens to envelope human kind. Salesmen convince conjole corrupt their prey into thinking they need want desire. Salesmen give life meaning. Get up to work, work for money, money to buy that elixir of life - that life giving thing called product and service. Without product around us to define our lives, what life do we live?

"None," is the resounding reply from the millions strong sales force of the world. They convince us of what we want and how we want it and last but not least of how much we will pay for it. They give us meaning, give us drive and give us character. They sell us our individualism in a yellow or red or blue option. They sell us ourselves.

Even God, as an idea, is a salesmen. A schister selling bad fruit and snake bite oil, a peddler of used products and services.

"Get your hot blonde here! Get your hot blonde here! All sales final! Inventory must go!"

Women, to men, and men to women, are product in the sense that they have characteristics, have sense and style (or lack there of) and costs associated as well. Like owning a pet it's not all love and cuddles. There is the mess to clean up, the mouth to feed.

Love is a service with a property tax. The property is your lover, like a car - be it new and shiny or a rusty old beater - and the tax is damn near usury indeed. But life, the desire for life, is the only thing every woman and man has in common, and so we pay these taxes with the reluctance a bum has as he loses his change to a craps game.

"Aw, well. More where that came from."

And yes, there is, there is always more where that came. Always another salesman around the next corner selling more product and more services to you and you always buying buying buying more.


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Check out heroecs, the robotics team competition website of my old supervisor's daughter. Fun stuff!
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