Terror Alert: Wage Slave Kills for Muskrat Love

Cold and rainy Monday. I haven’t even clocked in yet, and I’ve still heard the inevitable. Not a bad day to work! Glad to be inside! Warm and dry in here!

Really? Maybe I’d consider the office to be warm and dry if, say, I lived here. But I left my infinitely more comfortable apartment to get here. Wouldn’t you rather be at home in bed? Or in your living room sipping coffee and relaxing? It’s gloomy, it’s 45 degrees, it’s been raining hard for 24 hours. I’m to be thankful that I had to drag myself out of bed at 6am and go out into this shit? Trudging to the bus stop through standing water ankle deep, waiting for the bus, crowding onto it with steamy, coughing, shuddering, leprous people. Trying not to pass out in the airless tube of death as the bus driver fights traffic for an hour. Walk to the evil Metro, which is delayed because the tracks are wet and a butterfly flapped its wings in Argentina. Another well-packed, overheated tube of death…with the too loud PA system screaming incoherently. Walk to the office, more standing water, buffeted by wind, the rain coming sideways and upwards and every which way. All to sit here in a dark, windowless cell for eight hours being nattered at and insulted by simple people.

Yeah, warm and dry. Whatever. I could have slept for another couple of hours, moved to the couch and watched the rain while nursing some truly excellent coffee. Could have leisurely eaten a full breakfast. Read a book, watched a show, did some chores, furthered my life in some way.

I’ve been on that kick, lately. Well, for a few years now. But it’s seemed to be a bit more in my face the last few weeks. Nothing I do at either of my jobs does anything for me or my fellow people. I am 100% a mindless wage slave drone. And expected to be grateful for that, and the heavily taxed pennies that I make. I think I’d feel better if my bosses shrugged and told the truth: Yeah, it’s useless, but it’s a paycheck.

Is it groupthink that makes supervisors act like the job is the end-all, be-all? Or is it some sort of training thing? Like in school, when they show the wildly outdated and unrealistic educational films. Zinc and You, STD and You, Safe Driving and You, Supervising Idiots at a Shit-Swilling Job and You.

There is a disheartening similarity to the language used by supervisors. I hear it at every job. Recited from one of those films, no doubt. The constant bravado. Welcome to the machine, team member, it’s really great here! No, we can’t afford raises this year, because the outgoing CEO is due a multi-billion dollar retirement package. I expect the reports on my desk in 13 minutes!

No wonder we’ve become a pill culture.

I shouldn’t complain, though, because being a pill culture is much better than being a detergent suicide culture. But the thing is, I understand what those Rising Sun crazies are up to. Mass suicides using household chemicals? Yeah, there are times I entertain such thoughts. Not that I’m brave enough to kill myself. My snap and go crazy plan involves a gun purchase and a clock tower. Though there aren’t many clock towers near my apartment, so that’s a pain.

I figure, if it comes down to it, shooting up a schoolbus is much better than death by detergent. However that works. Apparently it’s not like the classic drinking Drano thing. You have to be a chemist. CNN plays it coy – mix the detergent with “other chemicals” to produce hydrogen sulfide gas. Sounds fun! Why not tell us what the other chemicals are? It’s not like kids are going to go out and do it. Hey, Chucky, CNN posted this great way to commit suicide! We can stop standing on the train tracks now!

Actually, kids probably will go out and do it. But that’s something I would file under “population control.” If stupid farm kids read CNN, then huff hydrogen sulfide, good for them. That’s more buxom farm girls for me. Yeah, baby, rake that hay!

Trying to find the mix was hard. At least, the two minute Wikipedia search that I conducted was fruitless. But I did finally find a reference. Turns out that this “detergent” is in a common shampoo, and mixed with the usual sort of bleach/ammonia thing it lets off super death gas. And here I’ve been spoon feeding myself Tide! What a waste.

Whoever is making the shampoo probably should have taken a hint from the scientific community, who used the same detergent to kill AIDS and HPV. The shampoo contains sodium sulfate and, back in 99, was all the rage as a potential cure. But, then, it’s also highly toxic and, you know, kills you. Or whatever.

All in all – boring! What kind of suicide is that? Japan, listen to me – find a clocktower. Get a rifle. Suicide by cop. Aim for jocks and cheerleaders. And leave a video on Youtube that barely makes sense. If it were me, the suicide video would be all about how I wanted to avenge the Grey Fluted Muskrat that lives in the Sierras or something.