Satan s Anus: Dishwashing through the Pandemic | www.splicetoday.com
Of course they hired me on the spot. Nobody else wanted to spend seven hours a day suffocating in Vietnamese-level heat, gagging on a stupid COVID mask, getting soaking wet and wearing your muscles to exhaustion by scraping eggs, chocolate, bread dough and other muck off of trays, plates, soup bowls, assorted cutlery and Tupperware that piled from floor to ceiling.
But there was no choice. I d become a dishwasher.
Industries are collapsing due to COVID. My own profession, journalism (or maybe it s my former profession) is bleeding out. That doesn t really bother me, as I long ago decided that most official journalism is garbage and I was going to think and write as a free man, no matter what the consequences. Better a free-thinking dishwasher than a very important editor or TV personality who s a captive mind.
Coronavirus has revealed that as a culture we have, as the Jungian psychologist James Hollis put it in his new book Living Between Worlds, lost the map. Our old ideas of success and failure and what matters are shaken. Does the world need so many journalists? Or managers? Or consultants? Or movies? Were they really feeding our souls?
So, like Hollis or Dante, when the way is lost you sometimes just have to knuckle under and walk through hell. You have to make a buck on your feet, with your chest and arms and inside your own body, not in cyberspace or on Facebook or Twitter. You revert back to those summers when you were a kid, cutting grass, shoveling snow, bagging groceries. That puts us back in touch with ourselves.
Good Lord. Somebody set this man up a gofundme page.
H/t instapundit.