Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Monday, January 11, 2010
Sorry 'bout that. As one of my friends says of me lately, I'm "going through something at the moment."
Wading in it, more like.
But.
It is what it is.
So. Let's play What's the Asking Price for Your Soul? It's a fun game, I promise. Kind of like Scruples. Several scenarios are presented and you decide if your personal morals and convictions can be bought.
I'll start:
You have enormous amount of medical debt thanks to a serious injury and subsequent surgery. You need another surgery if you ever want to walk without pain. But you're trying to pay off your existed medical debt before accruing more. Then you're laid off from your job. You lose your health insurance. You had to sign a non-compete agreement in order to receive your severance check. You're facing foreclosure and homelessness. And you still need that surgery, more than ever because you can't afford the pain medication and physical therapy and treatments that offer some relief. You are single and have no one but yourself to rely on for income.
And then...out of nowhere, your phone finally rings and someone, a real someone from a real company, completely out of nowhere, unsolicited, heard through the grapevine you are unemployed and wants to talk to you about a job opportunity. That someone is familiar with your talents and thinks you'd be a great asset to their company.
Awesome, right?! This is an easy game!
Not so fast, there pilgrim.
The company produces something you find repugnant. Everything they do goes against your principles and disgusts you. The job for which you have been deemed perfect involves doing things that insult your intelligence and professionalism. Your initial reaction was to hang up on the caller but not before telling them they had a lotta nerve calling to offend and insult you like this. But. The company is legit and international, the job is far outside the boundaries of the non-compete agreement, the salary would be more than what you earning when you were laid off, and half the population of the world would give anything to even clean toilets or sweep the floors at the company in question. But the other half of the world would look upon you as not only a sell-out but would question your professional intelligence and personal integrity. You would be embarrassed to work there and ashamed to tell anyone where you work. It would be risky to your career prospects beyond this job to list the company on your resume or on Linkedin. But it's more than the public shame. It's the personal devaluation and degradation of your principles that would eat at you. It's beyond selling-out - this is selling your soul territory.
But.
You've been unemployed for almost six months, your severance went to pay off bills and you still have medical debt, and the pain is getting worse every day, and you're edging closer to foreclosure...and property tax is due soon...you already sold everything of any monetary value that you owned...is it time to sell your soul, too?
Is there even a choice? Is there a decision to be made? Or must you take the job, no matter how vile you find the company and your would-be role there?
