The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

¡You Can Find this Career Decoder in Every Marked Box o’ Master Munch’s Munchmuffins Cereal!

It turns out the CEO o’ everyone’s favorite church o’ happyology, Careerealism, isn’t done innovating in the industry o’ making money off her own inanity. She wrote an article wherein she promises to give you the juicy secrets that nobody else knows that’ll totally ensure you’re successful, just call this # this hour, on why 80% o’ jobs are gotten through handjobbing networking (her answer isn’t “capitalism is a cronyist landfill,” so we know she’s far off the circuit). ‘Course, the true reason she wrote this article, as is obvious by anyone who reads it, is to peddle some pseudoscientific psychoanalysis bullshit that bourgeoise twits eat up like honeyed turkeys; you know, like that Myers-Briggs test that everyone uses to talk ’bout what awesome “Introverted Thinkers” they are, or that A vs. B personality nonsense. In this case it’s the “career decoder,” which gives you a simple quiz & through that quiz guesses what your occupational zodiac sign is. ¿Are you a “Visionary,” a “Builder,” a “Superconnector,” or a “Warrior”? So basically, it has the sophistication o’ those simple JavaScript quizzes fanboys & fangirls make round their favorite franchises on a lazy afternoon, like “¿Which Avatar the Airbender character are you?”

For a laugh, I took the quiz & was impressed by the way it fell below my already-low standards. Clearly I should apologize to katarastar2267 for slandering her Avatar quiz so. See, every question is just “¿Which would you prefer?” & gives 2 answers utterly irrelevant to each other, like “Use storytelling to explain an idea” & “Reconfigure the office layout.” Note that I tried this quiz multiple times & can confirm that, though the answer pairs are reordered each time, the pairs themselves are the same (same answers put with the same other answers).

The answers also were creative with grammar, which truly added to the forunte-cookie [edit: not to be confused with boring-ol’ “fortune cookies.” ] Tsen—not to be confused with authentic Zen; this is the mentally-lazy knock-off westerners love to spew—flavor, including missing articles (I think she might’ve plagiarized “create strategy to save time and money on an internal process” from that ol’ man from The Legend of Zelda) & creative use o’ the verb “execute”: “Create and execute on a company plan.”

For those curious, my highest sign was “Builder,” with “Educator” not far ‘hind. Since nobody with their head screwed on would e’er let me be a teacher for anyone, we can confirm that this quiz is bullshit. & I’m a bearded commie; ¿don’t they know we don’t build anything, but only destroy things out o’ our jealousy for people like John Galt & Donald Trump? ¿Have they ne’er read Ayn Rand? Plus, the quiz ne’er told me if I’d meet my soulmate today or if I should expect happy moments in the near future.

This was, ‘course, after they made me give them my name & email, which they certainly won’t use to send me spam & give to identity collectors, no sire. Unfortunately, they weren’t sophisticated ‘nough to actually check if the email is valid. Ne’ertheless, I must apologize to Leon Trotsky @ [email protected] for using his identity without asking. I hope he understands that this was for science, & not my own selfish, bourgeoise interest (for the latter I signed him up for some Misesian think tank’s newsletter spam).

¿What was your si—¿You actually took that quiz? ¿What the hell is wrong with you? ¿Have you no dignity? Let me know in the comments below.

Posted in Yuppy Tripe

Rainy October Wednesday

Accompanying music.

…in the moldy air smells

fresh of oysters, crabs, & spiral snails

rolling inside rolling leaves, brick bells

clanging mossy in the cloudy, pale

shoving chill that makes me ill but also

stomach-filled: the french fries leave their scent,

orange trees scheme to bury seeds are all so

juicy you can tell the apple’s pent

up till bitten splurging maple peanut

butter chocolate drops in black-oil puddle

rainbows hugging sidewalks in my tea cup

coffee acorns roasting steam that muddles

windshields in the misty highways, till the

moon awakes, glow headlights, pumpkin eyes

from the deck of witches named Matilda,

Spider-Man, or ‘nother grim disguise,

all for jangling bags of shiny plastic

honey colors. Dump the leaves in drops,

feed your storm drain. Crying in baskets

tastes both sweet & sour, for sour’s a lot…

Posted in Metered, Poetry

October Commeth (TUS PASATIEMPOS CONSISTÍAN EN EL EXTRAÑO Y RETORCIDO Y PERTURBADO Y ME ENCANTA ESO JUEGUITO QUE HABÍAS LLAMADO «GRITAR RAYO»)

I saw it in the warmly cool cast o’ cobalt,

spreading its sparks ‘cross the sizzling sands o’ clouds,

folded into a thousand gowns

with candied drool dripping from its hungry mouth.

On damp noons,
Jack without his light,
still smiling.

I caught it in the pumpkin-colored pine needles spread ‘cross the streets,

rubbing gainst the off-black concrete

& the black puddles o’ oiled grease

swimming in burnt-brown leaves.

In acid lakes
peanut butter rows
sour apples.

Where the torrents make the maples blush mulberry grape

while others crouch back into the shadows powdry gray.

A leaf slaps its hand on the stain-smudged chalky pavement

so hard the blood rushes to half its otherwise anemic digits

till unexpectedly the gusts shoos it ‘way.

¡O, I’m dumb!
I almost forgot
the mushrooms.

When the natsu no tsuki makes way for the aki no tsuki to come,

cut bloody crescent cold,

spirit-snatching owled-eye beacon,

its drenched-blade forests feeding mold

till the trees & cities are splattered with orange,

& collections o’ bright colors captured by candies foraged.

& now we can forgive

winter’s cold,

spring’s drops,

& summer’s burns—

Now finally can my ol’ props be unearthed;

time to pull red crops for all they’re worth.

Now so stuffed with
so much sand worms,
fin’lly, it’s time
for just desserts.

Posted in Haiku, Senryu y amigos, Poetry