1) A Friendly Reminder or Two

As you can see, Seth did not have time to get a contribution in this week.
That will happen to both of us.  Just think how much better YOU could make
those times by contributing your own thoughts.  Just a reminder.

Also, I want you to forward these issues to everyone you know.  Like a
pledge drive, only you don't have to give anything, unless there's
something you don't want.  I'm sure we'd be happy to take it from you.
Again, you can subscribe either from our web page, or by sending a
message.  Both addresses are at the bottom of this issue.

Thank you for weakening your eyes ever-so-slightly by reading that.  This
world will self-destruct in 5 mintutes.
 

2) The Golden Fool

One of my jobs right now is a communication representative.  At least,
that's what I have dubbed it in this age of political correctness.  Most
people would call me "asshole".  My co-workers generally refer to each
other as telemarketers.

I know what you're thinking.  "He's that guy who called me last night
right after I sat down on the john, only to try and get me to buy a
nuclear bowel cleaner."

I wish.

Instead, my job is a little less gratifying.  All I do is call old, often
retired, teachers trying to get them to go to seminars on an insurance
policy. I don't even get to do the selling myself.  I would love to be the
one reminding teachers of their mortality.  After all, teachers have
always been my favorite people.  I think my approach would be subtle,
calm, and easing.  Keep in mind, those words are quite subjective.

"Alright, all you beggars, I'm here to sell you some insurance.  Why do
you need insurance?  Remember when you told little Billy that he was
misbehaving by asking you why he should do something your way and not
another way that worked just as well?  Well, my geriatric friends, Billy's
grown up.  Billy is at this moment in a third world country stockpiling
weapons, and I believe he's due to come back later this week.  Oh yes, and
Billy still remembers."

"Billy still remembers that you scolded him for walking out of line, even
though he was pushed.  Billy still remembers that detention you gave him
when he was talking in class, even though it was to tell the guy blowing
spit-wads at him to stop.  Billy still remembers."

Maybe that wouldn't convince them, but it would be more fun than one could
ever imagine.  That would be far better than winning the lottery.  Better
still, if it were to my old teachers.  The teachers that who wanted you to
write a certain way, even though it was arbitrary and another way was just
as readable.  The teachers that felt I was unhealthy psychologically just
because I was writing about demons and witchcraft in 3rd grade.

Ok, so maybe they weren't all wrong.

The teachers I call are rarely better.  One informed me that the WEA
(Wisconsin Education Association), which is one organization we call for,
was communist and probably supports those perverts like Clinton. Others
won't even take the call, telling me that doing ANYTHING over the phone is
bad news.  Somehow they fear that even talking to me on the phone is going
to somehow drain their funds.

Most however, are those that ask you where the seminar is going to be,
when it will take place, who will be speaking, what color the tile is in
the room, whether it's long enough that they will need to bring extra
Depends, how much gravitational force will be in the room, whether the ink
in the pens will be blue or black, and whether they should bring there
cat.  After you have answered these, and ask whether they can attend, the
response is "no, i'm not really interested."

Thank you for your time you wrinkled conformity breeder.

Remember, these are the people that taught YOU to be what you are today.
These are the people that will teach your children.  These are the people
that have the ability to shape and define our world.

And they shape it into jello, with the consistency of water.  Yet people
still wonder how a child can get through school not knowing how to read.
It's probably because the teacher didn't know, or they were too afraid to
say "No, I'm not interested" earlier in the conversation.  By the time
graduation hits, it's too late.

There are a few, though, that pass the test.  The few who may have the
balls to live in the real world.  The few that may be able to make a
difference in a child's life.  They aren't Einstine.  They certainly
aren't mortal gods.  They simply have mastered one little task --

they can say "I'm not interested" at the beginning of a telemarketers
dialogue.

Kevin

--------------------------------------------
The Sardine.  Copyright 4/17/98.
To sign up and other such stuff, visit the web page:
http://visitweb.com/thesardine

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date?  Can't sign up on the web page?
Send e-mail to:
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