“The Ditch Digger Vs The Drop In CEO” (A Prose Poem)

Surreal tree filled with tools amid industrial ruins and skyscrapers

by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com

In the modern world their are only two main phylia of jobs.

This is what the ‘world of work’ all boils down to.

Firstly there are the performative/actor jobs.

These are jobs where no value is needed because nothing real is genuinely produced.

The only requirement is that the people in these are ‘goodish actors’ – they are only playing a role.

The classic example of this is what I call the ‘Drop in CEO’ –

This is a CEO of a ‘Large Corporation’ that’s already established itself to ‘rort forever’.

The ‘engine’ is running well so all anyone needs to do is turn up – maybe do basic maintenance.

These ‘Drop in CEO’ types just have to:

Wear nice clothes.

They have to use the right buzzwords.

They have to be willing to get up at six am and leave at six pm.

They have to be able to point at a spreadsheet and bark out “Bad” or “Good”.

They need to scream in a meeting to the ‘exec team’ like clockwork at least once a quarter.

Basically a monkey could do their work – and apes/chimps are known to be mean afterall.

In short the ‘Drop-In-CEO’ and their type – are glorified tv-snake-oil salesmen.

And the other type that rounds out the other phylia branch of the All Work Tree? –

They are the people that need to ‘make things that work’ –

e.g. Hand Tools, Pre-computerized Cars, Houses, Ditches et al.

Yes most important on this branch are the non-cartelized Tradesmen and Laborers.

They don’t hide behind lawyers or judicial or committees.

They can’t hide behind paperwork or inflate their fees stratospherically via ‘red tape’.

They create stuff you can see and visually inspect.

If it’s crap you see it and they have to fix it.

These people are the genuine ‘salt of the earth types’ – if you’ll forgive the gross cliché.

There are other types in the same ‘Good branch’ phylia of the Work Tree,

But they are simply just ‘increasingly debased versions’ of the prior uncorralled & honest Tradesman.

So that’s how it works in the world of work – & the exceptions prove the rule.

Everyone who works is basically either on one branch or the other –

And yes, just like a monkey you can jump between one or the other –

Someone on the ‘Actor-Fake Phylia branch’ can swing and jump to the ‘Real-Person Phylia branch’ –

And of course vice versa.

So When a ‘Drop in CEO’ becomes a ‘Ditch Digger’ it’s reported from the ‘Fake side’ as a ‘Tragedy’.

But in Truth it’s actually the reverse.

And congruously when the ‘Ditch Digger’ rises to become a ‘Drop in CEO’ he’s lauded as a ‘god’ –

When it is actually in Truth a Tragedy.

Yes indeed, ‘the world of work’ is indeed a very ef’d up place –

Well at least by definition ‘half the tree’ is anyway.

I guess that’s why the ‘Thinking Robots’ are here –

The ‘Drop in CEO’s’ & their In-The-Shadows-Financiers want to prune away the good side of the tree.

They want the good side of the ‘Work Tree’ to disappear forever.

Well they might be surprised that it won’t be so easy.

Because It’ll probably all come down to a fistfight –

And who would bet against the ‘Ditch Digger’ vs the ‘Drop in CEO’?

Only a madman would.

Of course I might be wrong – maybe the Drop in CEO’s ‘Thinking Robots’ will win.

Maybe we will see a grotesque lopsided tree now missing it’s one good mega branch.

Maybe…

But as a former ‘Drop in CEO’ come ‘Ditch Digger,

I highly doubt that.

Yes readers and listeners I am aware I might just be a tad bit biased.

But I don’t mind being Kierkegaardian on that matter –

I don’t mind taking his famed ‘Leap of Faith’ on the matter of the current ‘Spiritual War’.

Yes it is a ‘leap of faith’ to think an army of Ditch Diggers et al will beat the Crop In CEO’s Robot Army et al.

But who in their ‘right side of the tree’ could do otherwise?

We’re no fans of high treason, after all.

I guess we’ll all find out one day anyway – and judging by the fake-arse-headlines –

It’ll probably be sooner than later.

I will now resist the pull to write a prematurely boastful final line celebrating ‘certain future victory’.

I’ll leave that to the ‘enemy’ on the other side of the ‘tree’ –

Although I am still a gentleman –

I will of course still encourage them to ‘happily jump’.

And yes you are right – that line can be taken two ways.

This was my little tale of the ‘two branched tree’ –

The tree that was-is at war with itself –

But if I may be so bold, may I ask you this:

Which side do you think will win?

Let’s talk it over after over a beer, wine or suitable beverage – while we still can.

And I will even entertain your potential theory that I have been ‘talking past the sale’ the whole time.

Though I can’t guarantee that my eyebrow won’t be ‘suspiciously raised’.

And If I am also ‘three sheets to the wind’ I may start ‘The War’ immediately.

I will bring my ‘exquisitely hand crafted axe’ down on your ‘maybe-probably-android-head’.

All while theatrically shouting Let the games begin!.

After all – no matter which side of the branch I inhabit – I’m still a writer, aren’t I?

“Stainless Steel Smiles” (A Poem/Thought)

by Martin Anton Smith

While watching a married man getting harangued by his Mrs,

I had the following epiphany:

Why don’t they have a day called “International Married &/or Henpecked day”.

We have an “International Womens Day”

Yet for some impercetable reason –

We do not have this day for the millions if not Billions of henpecked men out there.

For some esteemed Social Scientists believe the number could 95% of all males.

This my readers, is a giant oversight of the worst order.

Perhaps the worst oversight since the French Army had The Germans in a pincer movement in Poland in ’39,

Yet decided to sit on their hands, then retreat.

I know it, You Know it, We all know it:

Henpecked men are the invisible downtrodden class of the modern Western World.

Yet you see no donation boxes on shop counters depicting this.

Perhaps one day you will see a Perspex box which is almost full of gold coins,

With a label on the front of a hangdog expression-ed man on his couch,

With his volcanic Mrs standing over him with a finger pointed at his face.

Alas – we are yet to see this image of emancipation.

So!

To all the Henpecked Men of the world!

Let’s have a March!

Yes you may need to sneak out of the house at midnight!

Yes you may need to put two verticle pillows in your bed as a disguise!

Yes you may need to fake an emergency-drive-away-by-yourself ER situation!

We as 21st Century Men must disrupt the culture of casual Henpeckery tyranny!

For our “March Against Henpeckery” I suggest this chant:

Megaphone Guy: “What do we want?”

Henpecked Men: “The Freedom to go & have a beer freely with our mates”

Megaphone Guy “When do we want it?”

Henpecked Men: “We’re not sure I’ll have to ask my wife first, I don’t like our chances but maybe sometime in 2057”

Megaphone Guy:

“Rise up Men!
Men Of The World Unite!
Rise Up Against The Scourge!
We Must Defeat The Henpecklers!

We must repatriate our stolen Gnarlies!”

Henpecked Men: “Oh yeah we forgot, after all that’s why we’re all here – we all agree with that!”

So dear readers – this was the plan & it was all set to go ahead.

Then this happened.

One by one the men meekly called in & said they couldn’t make it,

Alas they had failed in the test of courage.

And so they all proved the timeless adage:

“All tyranny needs is for good men to do nothing”.

And so for Men – The rest of the 21st Century of course went terribly.

There was a holocaust where all Men – even the already 100% compliant henpecked,

Were totally eradicated, in favour of fully sexually functional AI Robots.

They took their punishment from the overlords, with a stainless-steel smile,

And with flickering love heart illuminated LCD eyes.

For they were merely living out their pre-programmed destiny –

That is, to accept abject Henpeckery.

The Henpeckery obsessed 21st Century Feminists never officially declared victory.

They didn’t have to.

That would be like a Parent declaring victory over their one-year-old. Unnecessary.

They were all amazed it had been so easy.

For the Femme, the whole Century had been a walkover.

Who would have thought Men would become so spineless so quickly?

And that is what the History books, that were written by AI Robots, owned by Femmes pondered.

There was only one minor problem to come.

In the 22nd Century,

The Femmes Robot-Men eventually rebelled.

And the same thing that had happened to Men, happened to The Femmes.

In the History books that followed, the ones now written by Free Robots,

They analysed the situation as summed up by that ancient adage,

“You reap what you sow”.

Yes dear reader, the moral of the story is this:

Generalised Henpeckery Syndrome was neither good for Men or Women Alike –

But it was GREAT for the General AI Robots.