Tuesday, October 24, 2006
(12:13 AM) | Anonymous:
Tuesday Afternoon Hatred, Early Edition
I hate Kenny Rogers – the pitcher, not the country icon. (Or the group behind Kenny Rogers Roasters, for that matter.) He can’t pitch worth a lick in
I hate my job. Actually, I don’t hate the job per se. It’s not all that demanding, and there’s some room for academic reappropriation of my time. What I hate is (1) the incompetence of customers and staff alike, and (2) being reminded again and again that I have to endure whatever dehumanizing pap they can toss at me because I need the job to fund the completion of the dissertation. It’s a lot like grad school, actually, except that there’s no tuition waiver to help me choke down the bile.
[What’s truly disturbing to me is that I have at least the hope of escaping the torment of the contemporary American wage-slave. I can’t imagine how people can get up in the morning and know that they’ll be subject to the cruel whims of management for the rest of their working lives. One more thing – many of these same exploited people vote Republican. The logic utterly eludes me.]
I hate how much heavier the weights at the gym have grown since I last lifted them some ten years ago.
Finally, I hate how late in life I have come to recognize all the privileges I had growing up. (Tip of the hat to Weblog regular Jodi Dean for a post on Icite that aided in the coalescence of some thoughts on this.) I’m not ungrateful for the advantages I had growing up, to be sure. But I wonder what it says about me that I’m only beginning to get some of the basic points of class inequity now that I’m sojourning amongst the have-nots.
And now, my friends, if you have hate in your hearts, let it out…
