Last Sermon of the Managerial God.
Every messiah has to die. I watched a new managerial god fly in, and while the wrapped coupe was cooling in the basement, he gathered the middle-management saints, who in turn assembled the sinners. Together,…
The Pain Doesn’t Vanish: The Ghost at 2AM.
The pain doesn’t simply go away. Samantha did leave. After the loss of her child, she relocated to paradise. Beaches, sun, and waves. But she returned a few years later, and settled back into the…
Who Listens?
A satellite dish. Hidden behind walls in need of paint. We built machines to connect. Promised ourselves we’d never feel alone again. Now? We’re more alone than ever. Endless broadcasts, podcasts, shows, and feeds. But…
Eighteen Till You Die…
“Eighteen.” Vincent Furnier, aka Alice Cooper, was 23 when that song hit big in late 1970. It captures that messy threshold: no longer a kid, not yet a grown-up. The singer drifts between worlds, unsure…
The Silent Machine Room Prayer
I really just wanted a coffee that Friday evening, not a sermon. The sign read, “All welcome,” so I assumed I was part of “all” and entered. A conscript’s first three-day pass is sacred. That…
Despondency: Language as Leverage in the Sludge.
Despondency is that shit feeling that resides in a post-apocalyptic crud-hole between hopelessness and apathy. As an emotion, it’s legit, and it’s a signal, but it’s a faint signal that can lead to horrible stuff…
The Language of Getting Sent to the Meat Grinder
The language of conscription is glossed over with words like duty, service, honor, and sacrifice, but beneath the shine, it stinks of rotten bureaucracy, drafting people into the meat grinder. Politicians say, “the nation calls,”…
THE DEATH OF CONNECTION: Commenting on the Menu, Ignoring the Meal
Do you know people who wander into a restaurant, glance at the menu, comment on every item, and then leave, telling everyone outside what they saw? Worse, some post it online, and the echo chamber…
The dirty secret of side-hustle culture. Part 1.
The dirty secret of side-hustle culture is that if your life is already crammed with stress and chaos, your creative hustle isn’t going anywhere. You can romanticize the beauty of the escape plan all you…
THE WAR ON THE SELF: Performing for the Narcissist. Breaking the Script of Emotional Labour
Brad was flushed with rage. The veins in his forehead pulsated. “I can work for a tyrant, but not a narcissist who needs a performing monkey.” Brad resigned a week later, found a great job…