The Middle Class Aristocrats
I used to have no need for social excuses, like birthday, to be nice to people. Though recently I've gained the tact to use them as social leverage... for acquaintances, or not quite friends. Real friends, they enjoy the privilege of having me ungoing to their birthdays. Today contrary to moral principles, I went to a supposedly friend's birthday, and met some of his supposedly friends. This is one of those rare occasions I mingle with mere mortals that inhibit the sub-metaphysical world.
I didn't think it could be so bad. After all, they are a bunch of engineers. Their sexual frustration is supposed to be channeled into technical prowess. The subconscious realization that they will forever be managed is supposed to give rise to a complex that includes overestimation of technical merits, a immitigable contempt towards the trivial and frivolous, and a uncontrollable urge, nay, perverse compulsion, to demonstrate a point with math or logic or reason.
It turned out they are pretty well adjusted. They are insufferable.
Get a load of this, a bunch of engineers eating together, and the conversation circles round clothing and trinkets to buy for girls... now, that creeps me out. No back of the napkin calculation? No grandiose delivery of ideas way beyond the ken of all those present? No nothing. Actually, nothing's all there is.
They are the middle class aristocrats. For whom, glory is by association. For whom, knowledge is by osmosis. For whom, work is distraction, and distraction is work. For whom, there is only upward levitation, but no upward mobility. They are all uniquely the same.
Passionless of who they are, they are full of fire of who they are not.
They should all just go get a MBA. Yes, the society needs more MBAs. They are the forces of change. There are hopelessly ossified organizations yet to be mismanaged to death so as to provide feeds for the rising technocrats.
One of them is smart. He traded engineering for finance.
I didn't think it could be so bad. After all, they are a bunch of engineers. Their sexual frustration is supposed to be channeled into technical prowess. The subconscious realization that they will forever be managed is supposed to give rise to a complex that includes overestimation of technical merits, a immitigable contempt towards the trivial and frivolous, and a uncontrollable urge, nay, perverse compulsion, to demonstrate a point with math or logic or reason.
It turned out they are pretty well adjusted. They are insufferable.
Get a load of this, a bunch of engineers eating together, and the conversation circles round clothing and trinkets to buy for girls... now, that creeps me out. No back of the napkin calculation? No grandiose delivery of ideas way beyond the ken of all those present? No nothing. Actually, nothing's all there is.
They are the middle class aristocrats. For whom, glory is by association. For whom, knowledge is by osmosis. For whom, work is distraction, and distraction is work. For whom, there is only upward levitation, but no upward mobility. They are all uniquely the same.
Passionless of who they are, they are full of fire of who they are not.
They should all just go get a MBA. Yes, the society needs more MBAs. They are the forces of change. There are hopelessly ossified organizations yet to be mismanaged to death so as to provide feeds for the rising technocrats.
One of them is smart. He traded engineering for finance.
hayeah at 02:35
