The Luv Doc: Our Corporate Tech Overlords

Dear Luv Doc, 

I have been told since grade school (largely by an obligated grandmother) that I should pursue a writing profession when I grow up. We’ll see if that comes to fruition when I grow up. Currently, my writing is solely expressed through my duties as a fantasy football commissioner, as I began sending a weekly recap to a duodenary of bumbling cousins. However humbling, the band regularly expresses its amusement of my synopses, which are largely powered by satire.

For sake of brevity – which has never been my strong suit – I conclude by saying, 1) Thank you, and 2) Any advice you might have for an aspiring writer seeking to exile myself from my corporate tech overlord would be welcomed. 

– The Commish

Now that I am done looking up duodenary, I am beginning to question the rigor of my public school education. For the record, that’s a duodenary of years spent in both primary and secondary schools in Oklahoma – a state that is currently doing a bang-up job at racing to the bottom of the stupidity barrel thanks to the will of its voters and remedially right-wing state school Superintendent Ryan Walters, a proud graduate of Harding University, which is a Division II school you’ve never heard of in Searcy, Arkansas, a place you’ve never been to. I mention this not to slag Arkansas or Harding in particular – knowing Walters is a Harding Bison is enough of an indictment – but merely to illustrate how ugly things have gotten up in OK – so ugly the voters elected a state school superintendent who went to college in Arkansas. Hot tip: Okies hate Arkies, so that’s a huge “fuck you” to public education – not as bad as Abbott’s school vouchers, but similar … like, if the Board of Regents appointed an A&M grad to be president of UT. 

Speaking of the Forty Acres, that’s where I spent a quinquennium slacking my way to a lucrative Liberal Arts degree. Cultivating my intellect at The University was absolutely crucial for my current role as a Guardian of Democracy. Disciplina praesidium civitatis, bitches. IYKYK. Actually, I’m just kidding. Truth is, my generation really shit the bed as Guardians of Democracy. I own my part in this debacle. When you spend too much time inside the bubble of the People’s Republic of Austin, you risk missing the fact that suburban megachurchers and their millennial offspring actually bought the devious bullshit that charlatans like Dan Patrick, Ken Paxton, Greg Abbott, and America’s OG carpetbagger-in-chief Don Juan Trump are selling. Namely: Your health insurance, your taxes, and the price of eggs are too high because dog-eating illegal immigrants and ANTIFA are taking all the good jobs and overcrowding our public schools. It’s definitely not because the Citizens United ruling essentially handed the American electoral process over to billionaires and corporations.

As luck would have it (history has proven?), billionaires and corporations don’t seem to be too interested in spending a lot of money to expand the middle class. They can barely cough up enough blue-collar manufacturing jobs to keep the fentanyl market afloat. Honestly, if American workers want to persecute a group of individuals, they might want to start with the robots being manufactured by their corporate tech overlords. Soulless automatons show up for work extra early and they never fuck around on company time setting their fantasy football lineups. Thankfully, for the time being, robots are shitty at satire, but give them a few years and they might just go completely Jonathan Swift on all of us jobless, homeless cat eaters who are too lazy to work a 24-hour day. So, believe me when I say that if you want to exile yourself from your corporate tech overlords, writing is one of the most insanely difficult ways to do it. You might as well put a bunch of songs up on Spotify or try to make a living on Facebook as a “digital creator.” That said, I believe in you. You are American, and Americans are exceptional. We are all billionaire oligarchs in our hearts. May writing be the vessel that delivers you your megayacht.

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