As if the mere utterance of the term were not sufficiently revolting, the free thinker's plight is protracted in choosing the more appropriate subject for his criticisms: those who willingly partake in self-debasement to advance their careers or those who actively encourage the practice to ensure its continuation. To some limited degree, they are indeed two separate categories of the same species of absurdity; the former are merely the youthful reflections of the latter, and the latter are little more than the professional beneficiaries of a collective renunciation of dignity. To my mind, however, such distinctions on the basis of age or social standing are entirely illusory; the opulent prostitute is really no different than the desolate whore. Indeed, like the networker, each must resort to regarding ones' self as a commodity, developing some particular skill set, marketing the resultant package for an irresistible price to the highest bidder, and repeating for as long as food, shelter, and clothing, or -- perhaps more accurately -- fine wines, opulent quarters, and
haute couture, may be necessary or desirable.
In the course of their contemptible transactions of moral degeneracy, one can only assume that networkers remain as scornful of their competition as they are oblivious to the destructiveness of their craft. For what can be gained in conversing with like-minded individuals, seemingly willing to offer their guidance and instruction on Monday, who, without compunction, would just as willingly throw you from a cliff to a den of flesh-eating lions on Tuesday, if it meant advancing their own prospects of landing that "dream job?" One could, perhaps, take solace in the knowledge that antiquated notions of "lying," "betrayal," and "backstabbing" have been assuaged by the newly-embraced cultural credo which assures us that such practices are "nothing personal," and instead, "just business." Nevertheless, witless platitudes cannot overcome the laws of gravity nor satiate a pack of hungry lions.
Lest I be criticized for abjuring the virtues of "competition," I can do no better than reference that which competition has created. Peasant cunning might be desirable when one is in need of a loaf of bread, but in positions where right conduct, equity, and -- for good measure -- wisdom, are required, peasants need not apply--or even be eligible to do so; for someone who is so desperate to obtain something that they would participate in such a vile act as self-commodification, not only infects others with their confusion of means and ends, they advertise themselves to all as malleable objects perfectly willing to be manipulated by their superiors at the mere suggestion of monetary gain. When asked to jump from a cliff, they respond with, "I'm already in the air, boss; shall I feed myself to the lions too?" The thought of giving voice to the meddlesome annoyances of one’s conscience, and, insofar as it may impinge on the superior's demands, asking "why," is flatly rejected--if even conceptualized.
Despite far surpassing what Nietzsche saw as “slave morality,” the virtues of networking continue to be heralded on high from the organizers of “career fairs,” representatives of “placement offices,” and the sundry beneficiaries of self-debasement in an office environment near you. “The best way to show the world how great you are is to talk with other people who share your passions, interests, and goals,” they counsel; if you gave each an enema, you could bury them all in the same matchbox at the end of their sad, pathetic lives. For my part, I rest content in knowing that my own life will not be lived on their terms; and that I would rather die as a humble pauper content in himself, than live and work in a sprawling network of rapacious rats. It’s nothing personal, you see; but my life is about far more than “just business.”
Eight days ago I had the privilege of seeing two living legends in concert, these legends of course being Elvis Costello and Bob Dylan. Newcomer Amos Lee opened the night with a decent set of tunes that partially held my attention. Elvis Costello followed with a set list of songs that spanned his catalog of albums. Highlights of his set included Alison, (Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes and the Nick Lowe penned (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding. Thirty years after the release of his debut “My Aim Is True”, his voice sounds exactly the same. Dylan followed to close the night with a set list that included a string of hits from his past catalog as well as cuts from “Modern Times”. The highlight of the show, though, would be a surprise encore duet of Tears of Rage with Dylan and Costello on acoustic guitars. This particular performance is significant to avid Dylan fans because it is the first time in about five years that Dylan has played acoustic guitar on tour as well as the first time in over twenty-five years that Dylan has played without a backing band. With the rest of his tour dates wrapped up, and no other duets, it’s safe to say that the audience saw something very special on October 22, 2007 at the Fabulous Fox Theatre. Below is the MP3 of the duet as well as a few other versions of Tears of Rage.
