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"Dont' forget to crosspost to facebook! Oh but facebook is dying, get on instagram!"

"But wait, don't you know linkedin is where you should be?"

"Are you remembering to say happy birthday to people you barely know on linkedin?"

"Are you self retweeting? It's important to cut above the noise, and there are two different crowds, morning and night."

"Did you spend $25 dollars to promote your tweet in order to get a 0.2% higher conversion rate over organic?"

"Is your diet organic? Are your tweets and likes organic? Are your pills you keep in case you decide to fucking end it"

"Maybe you just need to stop buying that extra latte, thats the way to success. saving." (nevermind that inflation inflates it right out of your pocket, and not all of us are broke because of daily $4 a day therapy-lattes or some dreamed up excuse for why the future middle class is fucking vanishing before our eyes)

"are you working harder? you are? okay, work smarter? you are? okay, maybe work harder. yeah, thats the one."

"you tweet/share the same stuff every day."
more puppies, kittens and random shit to add to the chaotic jungle noise like the sound a penitentiary with overflowing shitters makes. got it.

"your product market is saturated. the bottom fell out." fucking walmart. fucking amazon. fucking steam. fucking big steamrolling piles of conglomerate cash rolling over and crushing everyone else like a fat alcohol addled oil baron on top of scantily clad russian prostitutes, pulverizing honest efforts everywhere.

"have you downloaded my whitepaper/free ebook/subscribed to my fucking *mailing list* that I've plugged three times in this listicle on the ass end of the internet?"

"read these other ten articles, i'm a social media expert."

All this really tells me is marketing doesn't work anymore because sales don't work anymore because everyone is fucking broke and the economy is idling like a carjacking gone wrong in brooklyn, waiting for the EMTs to arrive and pronounce it dead at the scene.

They've given us narcan to wake us all up from the heroin debt OD that society was sold but it's not working like last time, hooked unknowingly by a dealer who mixed it in with our hopium and hash, sold a bad batch called "the promise of career and independence and job security." where the priests are financial advisors, and wall street scavengers pulling the same stunt as they did in 2008, except instead of mortgage backed securities it's college and credit card backed securities, sold to pension funds, so when the bubble bursts every cop goes broke and becomes an armed highwayman, every fireman becomes an arsonist, and every engineer becomes an anarchist, all destroying to assure their own job security because the future was stolen by clowns in suits, protected by clowns in suits on both sides of the aisles, and backed up by clowns in robes.

All because they wanted to know what it was like to fuck a prostitute *after* the light goes out of her eyes. What its like to fuck with blood for lube.

And the ass they're fucking is yours and mine.

..the western public, our grandparents, our parents, our generation, our kids if we can even afford them anymore, and theres on down the line.

The only job security these days is knowing how to kill people and grow food. And if tomorrow the lights go out, there won't be enough bullets to protect from the mobs of hungry cannibals, or your crops from the local city looking to plow it over with a dump truck for $500 an hour because you didn't get a permit from some petty sniveling bureaucrat.

I'm tired of self promoting people. I'm tired of the thought that making something good or great won't matter, that it's all luck. That in the process of aggrandizing and collating and conglomerating, and networking, what we've really been doing, whats been done *to* us is we've been intentionally distracted while a bait and switch is pulled.

We can all feel it in our bones but we can't put our finger on it. The ever present question, like a scab that won't heal. "is it cancer?"
"is this job completely fucking pointless?"
"is my boss a total fucking dickwad put in place not because of his abilities, but because hes fucking *friends* with the exec exactly one fucking position above his? He is isn't he. And all of this has been a waste. Oh my god. We're all going to die one day. And this whole time, this WHOLE time we've been trading our precious hours, our FINITE lifespan for pieces of paper."

All for a fucking blue thumbs up.
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