I worked from home yesterday, and I guess I missed the new intern’s first day, which is fine, because I am under the distinct impression that interns end up costing way more in productivity than anyone ever gains from them. No offence intern, if you happen to find this, but the most productive thing that any intern has done for me in the past was to fall asleep in the middle of a question, because I at least got a chuckle out of it. But, I don’t blame any of them, because they’re young, impetuous, and short timing the minute they start. That’s the way they’re supposed to be.

When I got in today, the following conversation ensued with my fellow dungeon mates.

Elf: I warned the new intern about you.
Me: About Me?
Elf: Yea, because you’re the resident anarchist.
Me: I am?
Elf: Like you didn’t know this.
Me: I had no idea.
Wizard: Oh, Everybody knows that.
Me: Well, I didn’t. I had no idea.

They then prattled on about something like where the “Sword of Illumination” was hidden and I begrudgingly accepted my new title by setting their waste baskets on fire and dancing around them shouting “An-ar-chy! An-ar-chy!”

Ok, maybe the fire thing didn’t happen because of recent revisions to the company conduct policy, specifically sections 224, 227, and 229: No booze in the drawer, dead cats are not funny, and setting random fires is strictly prohibited (even in cases of self defense).

All kidding aside, I was actually slightly offended by being called an anarchist, but I wasn’t willing to explain why at the time, so I just moved on. I’m sure that there are some bomb toting Che Guevara motherfuckin’ badassss anarchists out there that blow stuff up, steal from the rich, and eat nails and broken glass in their corn flakes, but I’ve never met one of them. I think the only anarchists that I’ve ever come in contact with have been fat, greasy morons in combat boots who had no friends, bad haircuts, and the inevitable black T-shirt with a big red A on it. They were always such painfully big pussies that I could hardly stand to look at them, nevermind take them seriously. So, whenever I hear “Anarchist” I don’t think of the nihilist, bomb toting psychos of the 1800’s. I flash to this…

At a rock concert in my youth, the concert promoters had set up this open mic tent where anyone could get up on stage and say whatever they wanted. Normally, I would’ve avoided something like that as if it were the “Voting is Cool” tent, but as luck would have it, when I walked by there happened to be the stereotypical Mr. Anarchy up on stage. He stood mightily telling the crowd how government was tearing the world apart and how beautiful life would be if we dumped our political system for anarchy. There was some light applause and a few encouraging whistles, so he pressed on… and on… and on…

Even though I had nothing to do with the moderation or organization of the show, I can tell you that I simply walked through the crowd and onto the stage without taking my eyes off of him and took the mic out of his hand mid-sentence. While standing close enough to smell the sweat on his freshly bought, $25 anarchy T shirt I glared at him and said, “This is anarchy. I walk in and take your shit. What the fuck are you going to do about it?”

And even though he was taller and heavier than me, he just stood there staring at me looking scared and stupid.

“What the fuck are you going to do about it?” I asked again through gritted teeth. And all he could stammer out was “Anarchy, man. Fuckin’ Anarchy. The revolution, man.”

And that’s why anarchy will never work: It’s backed by people without the brains or the brawn to sustain it.

Then, turning to the audience, I said, “What the fuck are any of you going to do about it?” And they all sat there silently staring up at me. Trying to elicit some response, I started pointing to individual members of the audience saying, “I’m going to take your shit… and then your shit… and then your shit… and none of you are going to be able to do a fucking thing about it. That’s Anarchy. Get used to it. I’ll see you all after the revolution, assholes.”

And during all this the moderator called some security to make sure that the microphone was removed from the man who was ignoring his signal to stop and give the mic to the next genius with something smart and popular to say.

So, when I hear that someone’s an anarchist, I think of them as the local fat pussy who won’t stand up for himself. And in this case, that was me.

And that’s just hurtful, you fucks.

Posted in Work