Die, you slovenly, jelly-necked cyborg.

Was at a job interview not long ago, and the experience was a massive trauma. I came home and wrote this thank-you letter as a means of survival. But I didn't send it. Why? Because I am a whore.

Whore, whore, whore, whore, whore.

It's a gosh damned shame. Anyway:
----------------------------------------------------

Dear Ms.______,

Thank you for taking the time to see me yesterday afternoon. It was a great chance for me to learn more about ______'s US strategy. Unfortunately, you personally underwhelmed me to such an extent that I can confidently say I would never work either for you, or with you, for any price.* In fact, my mission in life must now be to destroy you.

The reasons for my position are several. First, I flatly refuse to work for more than nine hours per day for any reason. The "typical" 11-hour workday you described to me was almost as embarrassingly absurd as your business suit. Editors are neither bankers, nor lawyers, nor doctors, nor suckers. We are abject slackers who excel at nothing so much as advanced work-avoidance techniques. The sole attraction of specialized editing is the favorable work/pay ratio. You should be aware that the "pay" component of that equation must increase logarithmically as the "work" number rises past eight hours a day (inclusive of the daily two-hour lunch). If there's a problem with that, I suggest you get a pen and edit the research yourself, you disgusting, blubber-jowled golem.

Second, the obvious forfeiture of all your human will to the Machine that is the global corporation precludes my working for _______. I do not work with the Undead. On the contrary, I firmly believe that such individuals—yourself prominently included—should be unmercifully staked through the chest at the earliest possible opportunity. When you used the term "facetime" in my presence, only the direct intercession of the Lord on High and the cost of my attire stopped me from lunging over the desk and savagely head-butting your nose into a sickening, blood-soaked haematoma. Likewise, your use (or should I say "utilization"?) of the terms "bandwidth," "implement," "best-of-breed," and "holistic" was completely and totally unacceptable. You might as well have screamed, "Cum in my ASS!!" at the top of your lungs, as far as I'm concerned--it was THAT egregious.

Similarly, when you mentioned the phrase "core competency," I knew right away that "competency" was a quality of which you are utterly bereft, much in the same way that you lack both a soul and the capacity to love. My strong view is that you need to be fired forthwith and put in jail forever, if not burned alive at the stake. Perhaps I should clarify this in a language you can understand (besides R2D2-like beeps): the "net-net" is that if, instead of this thank-you note, I could email my elbow directly to your face, I would.

The last straw was your introduction of the term "dotted-line report" to describe the new hire's relationship to the head of the ________ department (in contrast, I imagine, to a "direct report"). Your choice of words was so bafflingly, breathtakingly robotic that I almost committed suicide out of anger, pain, sadness, fear, and shame. To find a truly apt comparison for your brand of mathematically absolute, soul-crushing artificiality, one must recall the victims of Perseus. These poor souls were instantly turned to stone--as you seem to have been--when the ancient hero showed them Medusa's severed head. Medusa, you probably will not be aware, was the Greek goddess of "DIE, YOU SLOVENLY FUCKING JELLY-NECKED CYBORG!! DIE! DIE! DIE!!"

Thanks again for your time. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to shove them up your ass on an as-needed basis.

Warm Regards,
HAKKIN$N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


* below what I was making at my last job.