fuck this job.com

There can be no more ambiguity. My boss is the scum-of-the-earth. The green morass of pond-scum that floats on top of stagnant water left to bake in the sun looks down on the kind of scum that my boss is. He's a plague on the Earth, a mad, sad little bully still trying and failing to prove to the world that he's not simply white trash.

He is. He could become the richest man in the world, drive the most expensive cars, have the hottest trophy wife, and he'll still be nothing more than the snivelling, dirty-nosed white trash he was when he was little. There is a fundamental problem with his brain, a defect, and no matter how hard and fast he runs away from it, hiding in his corridors of perceived power, it will remain. He is a stain. A little piece of garbage floating in the midden of the world. He deserves to die slowly, by going septic inside, rotting from the inside out, until finally his external, leprous appearance matches the rot in his mind.

Those who have followed my blog, such as it is, will be aware of my talk of my 'assistant/replacement'. Well, that continuum has been solved, the equation has been liberated from a state of Schroedinger-like uncertainty, resolved as someone (namely myself) peeped into the box and saw that the cat was, in fact, dead. This little fuck, this kid who is my age and has the demeanor of a brick and far, far less technical skill than me, is my replacement. Not only is he my replacement, but he's been hired at a salary higher than any I've made in the entire time I've been here, and promised more besides.

I can't really articulate my wrath. For three years I've built a system for this company that has scaled from one office with a handful of employees to over a dozen, spread across the country. Infrastructure, hundreds of thousands of lines of source code, countless nights spent laboring over some subsystem or another. And now, that it's there, I am to be either fired or demoted -- made to serve beneath a man who was barely qualified to be an assistant programmer.

I have words for everything... every spectrum of human experience, I've found a way to make concrete, with words. I am a writer, and this is what I do. I articulate. But I don't have any words for this. I could hurl out here, every curse in every language I know, and it would be insufficient. Sterile, vain death threats do not touch on it. Even though I've been preparing myself for this moment for some time now, I am still awe-struck by the thing moving inside me.

I think of Howard Roark, being fired from Franchon's, except I've given no insubordination. What brought this whole thing on? I asked for and received a raise, and the manner of it infuriated my boss, because it showed him how important I was to his pathetic little business, and it galled him. And so, just to show me (although he's too stupid to ever put it into these words inside his own head) who the boss is, he's going to try to humiliate me.

I'm not above a little lying and manipulation to get what I want. I'm a good enough actor for the stage or the big-screen, if I had the desire for it. I do a fair bit of subtle ass-kissery, certainly. All the things that makes a man hate himself for quiet ltitle reasons... I do them, because the world has demanded them of me.

But there is a line with me, a very invisible but very tangible line. You will think I'm the nicest, most self-motivated, brightest little star in your solar system, until you cross that line. I do not let myself, qua myself, out very often. I dance about behind masks, reflect what people want to see back at them, because it is simply so easy.

That line is my pride. My individualism. My right to the benefits of my labor. I will prostrate myself, for the right cause at the right time. But only on my terms. I will never, ever, ever be violated again. Never.

Normally I'd curse, or try to be funny. Both are masks. For this moment, either a catalyst of action or a brief period of lucidity, I am as I am, inside. The two are one.

I am arming myself, in figurative terms. And I am about to declare war. No one has ever seen anything like it before. No one.

~SL