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A Peculiar Itch is Growing

By RandomGit 20 April 2005 21

A long long time ago, in a country far away, the Arab merchants galloped over the hill and looked out over the country of Spain. They named it Al Andalus, The Light in Gods Eyes. Thus they proceeded to occupy, exploit and savage the hell out of it for the next few centuries. Then there was the inevitable uprising and the Inquisition and I’m sure you know the rest.

But what is the most lasting effect for you and I? Despite Aetheism that is.

The Tie. Yes, that affectation symbolic of business the world over. You see, when those Arab Merchants came over the hill akimbo upon their camels, they wore a sash around their necks. It’s purpose was to wipe the sweat from ones brow, hung from thier neck so to be immediately available. The mud eating Spanish of the time, however, saw it as a mark of prosperity. Thus the tie was born.

Thats the happy story, now I got the unhappy story.

Did you ever hear how slaves in many parts of the world and in history would have a steel collar with a chain attached? You know, so you could keep them under control, stop them from escaping. You would have to let them off the log eventually so they could work, but that collar and chain stayed on. A reminder that when the days work is done, you still belong to someone else.

The Tie is a leash.

Is it no wonder that a lot of working class young hopefuls balk at this symbol of oppression in the Canberra workplace. Especially since most of the office jobs in Canberra are public service, where the normal rules of professional outlook do not apply. Why else is it that Canberra public servants have more special days for casual attire and a prevalence of daily business casual attire than anywhere else in the world. Well, that is, anywhere else in the world that can afford clothes. Our genes warn us that where we go be monsters to whom we trade our joy. It’s called a ‘tie’ for goodness sake, a knot, a bond, a reign. Could this be less obvious!

But it doesn’t end with the Tie, oh no. I was talking to my service desk friend and I was amazed at the wallets worth of security card passes he had swinging from his neck. This was not just a leash, it was a set of bar codes. If they could tattoo him then they would. I doubt he’d complain though, he isn’t without the odd loop of steel sticking out of his head. It’s why you get a neck sash and not a belt zipperooni when you get your pass, so your barcode is as overt as possible instead of hidden in your hip pocket.

Now by all means, I’m not suggesting you tear off your business shirt like a modern day Tarzan, strangle your boss with those gaberdine pants then throw your leather shoes like shuriken into the neck of that narky office admin. I’m not asking you to go Revolution Action on the mother fuckers at all (though feel free to spool it over the emergency warning system when no one is looking). No, don’t thrown away your clothes at all. Suits make fat guys look good, I’d dare not deny this of them. I’m just saying, this is how the bastards will get you down. Slowly, subconsciously, they will detach your working class roots. With a ruse of the practical they will burden you with the symbols of the peon.

So, I say to you, break it with….. sex. Yeah, that’ll do, sex. In the workplace and more of it. The anti-repressive ‘stickin-it-to-da-man’ effects of getting it on are well known.

So make like Davey and sex up your professional look in the workplace today.

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A Peculiar Itch is Growing
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johnboy 10:17 pm 22 Apr 05

I too thought it was croatian mercenaries.

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