not yet punditik

An article I read recently dwelt on how bloggers earn their daily bread by influencing our thinking, our opinions, and actions with a focus on non-edifying aspects.  The article placed as at the bottom of the food chain and labeled us “bottom feeders”, for gobbling up the vileness that social media and gossip blogs dish out.  I looked up bottom feeders, and would encourage you to do the same.  In this context, there is really no definition I feel most comfortable with.  Imagine being “someone who profits from things cast off or left over by others.” or “an opportunist who profits from the misfortunes of others”, or “an objectionable and unimpressive person or thing”. Are you a bottom feeder?  Do you gobble up others’ rubbish?  Do you gain from other people’s ill fortune?  Are you an objectionable person?  Are you really that low?  That vile?  Am I?  Am I vile? Yes I am.  It is true.  I admit it.  I am a bo...

Lets talk about your work environment. Environment A:   Organisation where your freedom and responsibility is zero, and authority given to you the employee, is only over people attempting to steal from the company, the arrangement of stock on the shelves or over the cockroaches and other such like pests in the premises.   Your opinion does not matter.   You should be seen hard at work and have no idle moments.   You continually wipe and shine the table and glass doors.   You only answer when spoken to.   You should do only what you are told to do,   You should not think, let alone tell yourself to do anything.   Instruction are bellowed at you especially if there is any change in normal operations or any special request to fulfill a customer request .   "Wewe - LETA LETA KITU HAPA.   CHAP CHAP SONGA.   PANA LALA"!  Drudgery and slavery - thy face is this! Environment B:   An organistions where the mantra is free...

Once upon a time last year, I was searching for new label.   I was turning forty, and the need to find a forty-defining label overwhelmed me. Here was a milestone; a major milestone.   I was forty.   I needed a label.   I have always had labels.   I was newborn, infant, toddler, youngster, adolescent, young adult.   I was girl, daughter, wife, mother.   I was Christian, educated, professional.   Each of these labels had a start date and an end date. Even the most permanent looking labels had an end date.   I knew that I would remain a girl or daughter for as long as I lived, assuming that my death would mean the demise of my girlhood, the daughterhood, the female me. What would be my label at forty?   Who gave out the labels at forty?   What would be the basis of the labeling at forty? Would they label me according to the years I had lived?   Or could it be based on achievements? What were my achievements?...