This post has nothing to do with any of the real subjects of my blog: neither the magazine, not my personal writing, not the sf genre. It is purely a personal venting of frustration related to the job that I have been working during the past year to earn my paltry paycheck. Yeah, I know, it is considered imprudent to write about one's job on one's own public websites, but everyone can rest assured that there is no possibility that anyone that I work with 1) knows about my site; 2) knows for sure my full name; 3) knows how to use a computer; or 4) has heard of the world wide web. The current date at my place of work is approximately January 10, 1985. In my effort to start some sort of career in a new industry, I have blundered into a situation where incompetence is standard, initiative is quashed, and naked negligence is rewarded with sympathy and tolerance. Without boring everyone too much, I will summarize by saying that a co-worker who should have been (and in fact was) fired recently for gross unreliability and reckless disregard of job duties is all of a sudden re-hired and working again as if nothing happened. This tells me that I am the one who needs to be gone from there. It also inspires a deep, painful emotion that I think is called "hate." In fact, to express how I feel about this situation today, I will simply quote the following immortal passage from Harlan Ellison's "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream":
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