T-t-t-t-trust me, I wanna feel dirty

I was reading an opinion piece about sexism and I couldn’t quite figure out whether the author was a troll or just stupid, because – you guessed it – the article itself was sexist.

Too many social commentators fall into the trap of believing that their viewpoint isn’t influenced by their own prejudices, or worse: some believe that they are somehow free of the prejudices that influence others. They do this by artificially setting themselves apart from the group they are criticising and thereby claiming moral authority over the subject matter.

See what I did there?

As evils go, I would venture that hypocrisy is pretty mild. Nonetheless, few things can torpedo your credibility as effectively as being exposed as a hypocrite.

This is a fascinating aspect of the human condition, because it means that reputation carries more weight than fact. It’s not a question of what is being said, but who is saying it. Being well-respected gives you license to feed people truckloads of bullshit – as long as you aren’t caught out.

The reverse is also true. Whenever someone like Mac Maharaj makes an accusation of corruption, there are hoots of derision from the media, even if he has a stack of evidence to support his case.

In a logical world, this wouldn’t occur. Politicians would have to find real jobs and pyramid schemes would be the sole province of the ancient Egyptians. Unfortunately, humans are seldom logical creatures and tend to be promiscuous with their trust. Trust me on this.

=/=

I saw the following comment online a few days ago:

“Equality is not subjective. If someone does the same job as someone else, then they should both be paid the same.”

Fair enough, but…

It presupposes that the context and circumstances are equivalent. What if two people work at different companies and one company is doing badly? What if one person has been on maternity leave while the other person hasn’t? What if one individual has a different reporting structure to the other? What if one person has a hairy arse and spends their day fidgeting as a result of razor burn?

It’s all very well to wax philosophical about equality as a concept, but you can get bogged down when you try to apply it in practice.

Also, how people perceive value IS subjective: one person may prefer to be paid less if they can work more flexible hours. Another may regard a shady parking spot as a bigger perk. I might treasure a bucket of corrosive drippings above all else.

How many shady parking spots equal a bucket of drippings? If anyone can point me towards a handy reference guide, I would be most grateful. Until then, I’m going to continue to assume that when it comes to equality, your mileage may vary.

Do as the Romans do

I also don’t get why the giant bunny rabbit nailed Jesus to the cross until he crapped out chocolate eggs, but apparently we don’t talk about that in polite circles.

Enjoy your Jesus turds, kids.

Digital snipe hunting

The trouble with my boss is that he sometimes confuses the concept of “initiative” with “the ability to read minds”.

He erroneously assumes that my colleagues and I possess the eldritch ability to navigate his profoundly non-linear filing system. I’m sure it makes perfect sense if you have the right kind of brain lesions, but I freely confess that it’s beyond my ken.

I only wish I was joking:

Now and Zen

Ever since Robert Pirsig brought out his best-seller about a motorcycle road trip, variations on the ‘Zen and the Art of …’ theme have emerged in relentless numbers. A quick online search – specifically excluding the search terms “motorcycle maintenance” – threw up over 30 million results.

It’s obviously a catchy phrase.

Few of these bits of writing actually have anything to do with Zen. In the past, as long as the topic had some vague leaning towards hippiedom, it qualified. The more recent trend suggests that people are favouring a somewhat random “anything goes” approach:

• Zen and the art of stem-cell research;
• Zen and the art of overcoming erienerphobia;
• Zen and the art of faking orgasms;
• Zen and the art of hitting yourself over the head with a bottle;
• Zen and the art of rotting teeth;
• Zen and the art of Barney the Dinosaur;
• Zen and the art of removing small animals from your anus; and so forth.

Then again, I suppose in an ironic, arse-backwards kind of way, these miscellaneous musings may very well contribute to a truer experience of the world. And there my point has just eaten itself. Damn.