Severus Snape
Proud Member
**Warning: Major Rant up ahead. Pets and small children should probably escape ASAP, along with anyone else whose mental faculties remain intact [unlike mine]. Excuse my asinine comments, but this is just the way I feel at the current moment, and I have nowhere else to vent.**
So, I've applied to the last place which had me as a part-time employee before I left to go to school. No luck, despite my calling them back and everything. The manager had told me that she was looking for more long-term labour than what I was able to offer, so I am not surprised at the lack of ringing telephones in my Haus. I will probably be overlooked, and some schmoe with more time on his hands will be given the undesirable position anyway.
I went to CraigsList to see any possible alternatives, and thus far no luck. I have no marketable skills. I can write. I can draw. I can research. Yet, who needs these on a day-to-day basis? If anything, writing and drawing are commodities in this world--the world won't stop turning if artists were to disappear off the face of the planet, but it would if, say, all plumbers were to be raptured in a great plumberocalypse as ordained by their water god Dönitz. Imagine a world with no plumbers, no electricians, no mechanics. It'd be utter chaos, no matter how many d***bags with bachelor's or master's degrees in useless liberal arts majors [exactly the thing I signed up for] you have.
The only way you could ever really make any money off going to college is by investing in a useful and perpetually in demand major, such as medicine/law, or making yourself useful in the field of science, which is also ever-changing, so "fresh blood" always needs to be recruited to update all drives, so to speak.
However, liberal arts are, for the most part, f***ing useless. I actually thought working for a professor would be beneficial for my job hunt, but it turns out it's not as impressive as I thought it would be--at all. It makes sense, from a business perspective: you'd be better-advised to hire the kid with the two or so years of full time labour under his belt and good recommendations from managers, rather than hire some college brat with a useless degree and no marketable/useful skills whatsoever who thinks it swell to have a goddamn professor [a more grown-up and even more useless version of the useless brat] recommend him to a goddamn company that has its wage slaves stock bloody shelves for Christ's sake!
"Oh, well, he writes great essays and understands the importance of historical events, can interpret literature, etc." "Well, that's great and dandy...but pray tell, how in god's Earth is that even halfway relevant to stocking the shelves full of Heinz ketchup and ringing up a leviathan-size grocery order for some hag who can't even bother to bag her own s**t?! Are they well-versed in the fine art of determining whether the store takes certain coupons? Do they know what a WIC is, or how to process government-issued food stamps? HAVE THEY SEEN B.O.B.?!?!" [The latter being an acronym for "bottom of the basket," as it is known that shoplifters will often try to smuggle unpaid goods via the bottom slot on the shopping cart].
It never occurred to me just how utterly useless and unmarketable my "talents" are. We're living in a society which requires a useless piece of paper to vouch for one's critical thinking abilities, yet the majority of the people who own said piece of paper have absolutely no idea what it means to think critically, and only regurgitate useless information in the format their professors stuffed it down their throat with.
There was some guy who was interested in hiring a ghost writer for his novel. His writing sucks, so I am sure I could impress him, but will I be up to par with the others, is the question. I'm nowhere near motivated enough to want to do anything, for him or otherwise. I'm too reluctant to be disappointed even more, truth be told.
I did reply to an ad from a retired history professor who was looking for a volunteer editor for his short stories and novels. The position is voluntary, meaning there is no payment involved, but I replied simply because I thought it'd be interesting to get to know someone like that. He happens to live in he same town I do, so perhaps this will work out to both our advantages--he gets a halfway decent editor and I get some worthwhile non-virtual company during the long and already painfully disappointing summer.
He posted the ad ages ago, though, so I don't know if he's still looking for an editor. Probably not, is the guess I'd venture, seeing as I have yet to get a response.
It really doesn't help that no one is hiring. The only other local place that is hiring is a bank, but they want someone to work full-time and on the long-term, meaning if I take the job, I would have to forget about school [probably a good idea, since college is the biggest scam ever]. However, my brother will probably get that job over me since his major is Business Administration, and the bank is obviously going to favour that over some stupid liberal arts history major.
It was really a huge mistake to choose history as a major. They always tell you to choose what you love to do, but loving your major isn't going to put bread on the table. The most sober advice would be to tell brats not to go to college altogether, unless they plan on being lawyers/doctors/scientists, which really are the only lucrative jobs which make the years of toil and accumulated debt worthwhile. It makes more sense to go stock shelves at Wal-Mart straight out of high school, than to go to college for four years, get a useless major you "love," and end up stocking shelves at Wal-Mart with four years' worth of debt and virtually no real-world work experience to vouch for your stocking ability. Oh, but you can write. god knows you can write... yeah, make that über-thesis about the importance of 18th century Enlightenment-era values while you're slicing those bits of ham and cheese at the Deli, and try not to let the fact that you're basically an indentured servant unto death because of your student loans get to your head. Otherwise, you'll start reaching for the Lüger again, and you don't want to end up in the hospital like Onkel Charlie....
I really am so sorry for ever going there to begin with. The professors tell you lies about your future, about how they see potential, or think you're going to do great things, ought to go to Harvard, or some other meaningless bulls**t that really has no value whatsoever. I think they just like to stroke your ego for a bit so you get attached to them, and when you least expect it--bam, the Great Betrayal comes!
"Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!"
Perhaps I'm going slightly mad, but I have had at least one of those goddamn bottom-feeders we call college professors tell me such things, and I can just see his sadistic smile just knowing the torment I am undergoing because of the decisions I've made. I don't know whatever I did in a past life...but the whole lot of it doesn't warrant such torture! Not even Dr. Phil and his small animals would approve!
Even if he meant well...look at the state of things. I don't even know whether to believe him or not--I mean, they're a biased party. They get paid if students stay, so of course they're not going to recommend you drop out, even if you're the most unworthy neanderthal out of the whole sorry lot! The question is: why do they all do this to me? Ach, ja! To make money! That's why. Anything for money.
But what now? Too late to learn a trade. Why was I born being good at such useless things!? Why couldn't I have been blessed with "a knack for fixing machines?" What do I have that is marketable or even slightly appealing to anyone outside the d****bag club of college profs? Nothing. That's what. Nothing.
How dare he even believe in me. I'm sure he was high when he said all of that. Either high, or bats**t insane! Neither one would surprise me at this point. Perhaps he just likes watching pathetic students suffer--you know, the whole "lift them up high before you send them plunging to their deaths" thing. He seemed so honest, and he said he cared about me. I believe none of it. What I ought to do is just get out of the whole sorry college thing, and hope that my enrollment hasn't done irreparable damage to my finances. Fat bloody chance.
Good god what have I done?! What have I done!? I'm going to starve to death, simultaneously suffocated by a great avalanche of debt, which shall rise beyond my eyeballs. It's all our beautiful system--the American dream!
So, I've applied to the last place which had me as a part-time employee before I left to go to school. No luck, despite my calling them back and everything. The manager had told me that she was looking for more long-term labour than what I was able to offer, so I am not surprised at the lack of ringing telephones in my Haus. I will probably be overlooked, and some schmoe with more time on his hands will be given the undesirable position anyway.
I went to CraigsList to see any possible alternatives, and thus far no luck. I have no marketable skills. I can write. I can draw. I can research. Yet, who needs these on a day-to-day basis? If anything, writing and drawing are commodities in this world--the world won't stop turning if artists were to disappear off the face of the planet, but it would if, say, all plumbers were to be raptured in a great plumberocalypse as ordained by their water god Dönitz. Imagine a world with no plumbers, no electricians, no mechanics. It'd be utter chaos, no matter how many d***bags with bachelor's or master's degrees in useless liberal arts majors [exactly the thing I signed up for] you have.
The only way you could ever really make any money off going to college is by investing in a useful and perpetually in demand major, such as medicine/law, or making yourself useful in the field of science, which is also ever-changing, so "fresh blood" always needs to be recruited to update all drives, so to speak.
However, liberal arts are, for the most part, f***ing useless. I actually thought working for a professor would be beneficial for my job hunt, but it turns out it's not as impressive as I thought it would be--at all. It makes sense, from a business perspective: you'd be better-advised to hire the kid with the two or so years of full time labour under his belt and good recommendations from managers, rather than hire some college brat with a useless degree and no marketable/useful skills whatsoever who thinks it swell to have a goddamn professor [a more grown-up and even more useless version of the useless brat] recommend him to a goddamn company that has its wage slaves stock bloody shelves for Christ's sake!
"Oh, well, he writes great essays and understands the importance of historical events, can interpret literature, etc." "Well, that's great and dandy...but pray tell, how in god's Earth is that even halfway relevant to stocking the shelves full of Heinz ketchup and ringing up a leviathan-size grocery order for some hag who can't even bother to bag her own s**t?! Are they well-versed in the fine art of determining whether the store takes certain coupons? Do they know what a WIC is, or how to process government-issued food stamps? HAVE THEY SEEN B.O.B.?!?!" [The latter being an acronym for "bottom of the basket," as it is known that shoplifters will often try to smuggle unpaid goods via the bottom slot on the shopping cart].
It never occurred to me just how utterly useless and unmarketable my "talents" are. We're living in a society which requires a useless piece of paper to vouch for one's critical thinking abilities, yet the majority of the people who own said piece of paper have absolutely no idea what it means to think critically, and only regurgitate useless information in the format their professors stuffed it down their throat with.
There was some guy who was interested in hiring a ghost writer for his novel. His writing sucks, so I am sure I could impress him, but will I be up to par with the others, is the question. I'm nowhere near motivated enough to want to do anything, for him or otherwise. I'm too reluctant to be disappointed even more, truth be told.
I did reply to an ad from a retired history professor who was looking for a volunteer editor for his short stories and novels. The position is voluntary, meaning there is no payment involved, but I replied simply because I thought it'd be interesting to get to know someone like that. He happens to live in he same town I do, so perhaps this will work out to both our advantages--he gets a halfway decent editor and I get some worthwhile non-virtual company during the long and already painfully disappointing summer.
He posted the ad ages ago, though, so I don't know if he's still looking for an editor. Probably not, is the guess I'd venture, seeing as I have yet to get a response.
It really doesn't help that no one is hiring. The only other local place that is hiring is a bank, but they want someone to work full-time and on the long-term, meaning if I take the job, I would have to forget about school [probably a good idea, since college is the biggest scam ever]. However, my brother will probably get that job over me since his major is Business Administration, and the bank is obviously going to favour that over some stupid liberal arts history major.
It was really a huge mistake to choose history as a major. They always tell you to choose what you love to do, but loving your major isn't going to put bread on the table. The most sober advice would be to tell brats not to go to college altogether, unless they plan on being lawyers/doctors/scientists, which really are the only lucrative jobs which make the years of toil and accumulated debt worthwhile. It makes more sense to go stock shelves at Wal-Mart straight out of high school, than to go to college for four years, get a useless major you "love," and end up stocking shelves at Wal-Mart with four years' worth of debt and virtually no real-world work experience to vouch for your stocking ability. Oh, but you can write. god knows you can write... yeah, make that über-thesis about the importance of 18th century Enlightenment-era values while you're slicing those bits of ham and cheese at the Deli, and try not to let the fact that you're basically an indentured servant unto death because of your student loans get to your head. Otherwise, you'll start reaching for the Lüger again, and you don't want to end up in the hospital like Onkel Charlie....
I really am so sorry for ever going there to begin with. The professors tell you lies about your future, about how they see potential, or think you're going to do great things, ought to go to Harvard, or some other meaningless bulls**t that really has no value whatsoever. I think they just like to stroke your ego for a bit so you get attached to them, and when you least expect it--bam, the Great Betrayal comes!
"Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!"
Perhaps I'm going slightly mad, but I have had at least one of those goddamn bottom-feeders we call college professors tell me such things, and I can just see his sadistic smile just knowing the torment I am undergoing because of the decisions I've made. I don't know whatever I did in a past life...but the whole lot of it doesn't warrant such torture! Not even Dr. Phil and his small animals would approve!
Even if he meant well...look at the state of things. I don't even know whether to believe him or not--I mean, they're a biased party. They get paid if students stay, so of course they're not going to recommend you drop out, even if you're the most unworthy neanderthal out of the whole sorry lot! The question is: why do they all do this to me? Ach, ja! To make money! That's why. Anything for money.
But what now? Too late to learn a trade. Why was I born being good at such useless things!? Why couldn't I have been blessed with "a knack for fixing machines?" What do I have that is marketable or even slightly appealing to anyone outside the d****bag club of college profs? Nothing. That's what. Nothing.
How dare he even believe in me. I'm sure he was high when he said all of that. Either high, or bats**t insane! Neither one would surprise me at this point. Perhaps he just likes watching pathetic students suffer--you know, the whole "lift them up high before you send them plunging to their deaths" thing. He seemed so honest, and he said he cared about me. I believe none of it. What I ought to do is just get out of the whole sorry college thing, and hope that my enrollment hasn't done irreparable damage to my finances. Fat bloody chance.
Good god what have I done?! What have I done!? I'm going to starve to death, simultaneously suffocated by a great avalanche of debt, which shall rise beyond my eyeballs. It's all our beautiful system--the American dream!
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