On Corporate Vogons and the Illusion.

A couple of my current issues are taking on the air of something written by Lewis Carroll. Or to use another, darker metaphor: they’re becoming Kafkaesque.

This kind of thing riles me badly. I tell the half-wits on the other end of the phone line that the whole situation is absurd, that we’ve been going around in circles for months getting nowhere. And what do I hear in return?

That is the system. Resistance is useless.

Or words to that effect. I’m curious to know how and when the corporate world got taken over by the Vogons. When did the ranks of the customer service facility become populated by minions capable of nothing more than reading from a hopelessly blinkered script even when it makes no sense at all to even a semi-rational mind?

Tonight I made every effort to persuade my own mind that this is just life, and that life is a kind of illusion whichever way you look at it. I told myself to remember my favourite maxim: perception is the whole of the life experience. That being the case, the whole nonsense must be viewed with equanimity.

‘Just keep on walking,’ I tell myself. ‘Do what you need to do and smile at their stupidity. Understand that they’re working for a system which exists solely to make profit, a system which has no heart and is therefore incapable of truly caring for the interests of the customer however much they claim otherwise. Such a claim is just another illusion to add to the others. And if it comes to the point where a formal letter of complaint is warranted, then write one without rancour. Remain calm and rational. It might work or it might not, but in the end it’s only life as we know it. Keep walking and eventually the corporate Vogons will fade into history and the scenery will change again.’

The advice sounded a little Arthurian, and maybe even a little Buddhist. Or Taoist, or Zen, or something like that. As such it appealed to me, but I’m not sure whether I’ve attained such a level yet.

Is this learning? Is it even the seed of enlightenment taking root? Is that why we’re here playing this odd game called life? 

I don't know, but for now the question remains: can I do it? Can I lower the heat on the need to tear heads off because my own head is being fed through a mincing machine? I suppose I’ll find out eventually.