Failure is not fatal but conformity is

I work with a bunch of tools who gratuitously assume the role of their own corporate master.

It’s tough because I’m constantly fighting it. I’m not a soldier. I’m a subvert. I don’t kiss my master’s ass, and in fact I’m quite vocal and a pain in the ass. In November I made some uncouth comments about the corporation’s treatment of me (to the HR assistant and head of security). A couple of weeks later my manager needed to talk to me with the door closed. I can’t behave. I refuse to behave. My only saving grace at this place is that I am irreplaceable [snark effect], well-loved and conscientious. They don’t make them like me anymore. These wayward distracted kids that make up the new employee pool are a joke. Where do these idiots come from? They have no mental discipline and would rather text at their desk for 6 of the 8 hours of their enslavement. That’s the problem. These kids have been taught to fight the enslavement without the discipline or sacrifice. Instead, they succumb to it in a surreptitious manner enabled by modern technology. They surf, they text, they chat on Facebook, and meanwhile there is a job to do. And they never come in on time or leave after their shift is over. Lame workers. And the managers are an equally loafing, hideous crowd. Such soulless sycophants. They want nothing but their next bonus check and a nice covered parking spot where they can rest their culturally accepted high-brow and overpriced import.

The suckass mentality permeates all aspects of corporate life.

Reminders of the company logo and slogan are etched throughout; there is the unmistakable Orwellian sense to the internal architecture. The unspoken demands of existing in such a place are far-reaching. The most involved of the soldiers are abhorrent human filth. They spout the company line, they recite the bullshit and really mean it. They walk around with strange expressions. They smile and parrot crap no one believes but themselves. That’s the cool thing. They are so proud of it. The cheerleader class. They have relinquished discriminatory thought to the mother ship. You will not hear the iota of dissent from their mouths.

The corporate line is a tag, it’s tattoo.
It’s on the company’s email shoulders like the decayed tattoo of remembrances past.

Like this email signature that greeted me earlier today from yet another highfalutin corporate grunt. Observe how he parrots the caution we must all keep in mind. Change for the sake of change. They aren’t even asking if we want change. They are telling us we should have liked it already. And if you don’t like change and mergers and coalesced work forces, something is surely wrong with YOU. You are the problem. Stop fighting it.

“Failure is not fatal, but failure to change might be.”

That is the oblique warning to the corprate denizens who are not willing to adjust to the new paradigm. You will be exfoliated and excised from the system if you don’t begin parroting stupid shit like ME. I’m a manager. Unless you accept the company culture and learn to love it, there is no place for you here.

Will I ever sink so low?

No.