8 Aug 2013: If Aye were after ye ye’d run
Workout: 20 minutes: supine movement with weights and 75 lowrise steps. Considerable but endurable pain experienced after steps. Now, more than an hour later, I experience the usual feeling at the locus of the major pain, a feeling which I wouldn’t call pain after enduring it as a constant for more than a year, save in a surge. As the pirate said, shiver me timbers and burn me buttocks, else; I endure it so constantly it’s not pain unless it interferes with movement. What really bothers me is the constant foot stiffness and thickening which makes me truly lame and unable to run.
Godzilla admonishes me, if Aye were after ye ye’d run.
Will return to walking tomorrow but the pain angers me. It must be endur’d as Gloucester was admonished by good Edgar but I am bad at that:
Glo. No further Sir, a man may rot euen heere.
Edg. What in ill thoughts againe?
Men must endure
Their going hence, euen as their comming hither,
Ripenesse is all come on.
Glo And that’s true too.
– Shakespeare, King Lear
Isn’t That a Kiss My Ass, or, Working at an Amazon Stock Picker (But Not for Amazon)
God. If Aye were after Ye, Ye would run.
– Shakespeare, the Tragicall Historie of Godzilla
There are worse fates than Stage 4, such as working as a stock “picker” at Amazon, or any Internet retailer; read this horrifying story by someone who worked at an Amazon-contracted center, for an Amazon contracted warm body firm, lest humanity enter into the contract relationship. That is, you don’t work for Amazon, you work for a warm body peddler who just happens to supply 100% of the bodies it hires to Amazon, isn’t that a kiss my ass.
The story makes me very glad that by design (my refusal/inability to use unsecured consumer credit cards) I don’t shop online. Without directly saying so, the author makes it crystal clear that when someone la la la buys a book online, o la la la so convenient to overspend la la la, he may be, probably is, causing excruciating pain to some picker, who may be a former academic or professional coworker, who’s bullyragged into meeting impossible targets and is at best called incompetent and at worst fired.
La la la.
The least I can do, receiving as I do Social Security, is never buy a book online.
A bad influence on me was Sasha Alexandrovitch, Alexander son of Alexander. His Dad had escaped the Soviet Union in ways it is for Sasha to tell but his Dad never became a beeg fan of capitalismus, indeed his father’s mistake was to see the flaws in capitalismoos, symmetrical with regards to those of Bolszhcewizzimoos.
His son had entered the work force during the fat years with my expectations, perhaps, but more of a sense of humor; he, unlike I, knew that there was no tribunal to which one could appeal when “unfairly” treated on the job, and the first such tribunal I ever found was one in Hong Kong that managed to get me one month’s severance when the law specified two.
A favorite expression of his, in retailing over time the increasing ironies of the workplace, was “isn’t that a kiss my ass”, usually in Politically Correct venues where he’d shock and offend.
So, isn’t that a kiss my ass. Ever since I left the permanent employ of Encyclopedia Britannica in Chicago for a “contract programming” job, the contract relationship has increasingly replaced the employment relationship in order to protect companies against employment law liability. One would think that the excess paperwork would be a cost item but it’s not. Just have your people fill it out wrong. Nobody gives a fuck unless terrorized as are Amazon stock pickers.