Man cub, your fifteen minutes is up and you’ve used up your toilet break.

My recently ongoing obsession with occupation continues. It is an engrossing subject, especially when viewed in regards to comparing position with personal satisfaction. I was pondering the dilemma of the standard record store employee recently, shattering the illusion of any glamour which may be held within. It is no accident that they are a breeding ground for the disillusioned, the misanthropic and the forlorn.

Anyone with any experience in this field will know well that it is impossible to generalise any situation completely, it would be both arrogant and presumptuous to do so. So let us for one moment consider this; the point withheld was not that all employees of such institutions are this way, merely that a frightening majority of them can be placed into several distinctive sub-categories of malcontent. There are always exceptions, however, in this case, they are generally of the temperament that they can keep their head down and just get on with it, and that can be as dangerous as buying into it altogether.

The success of major music retailers is knowing how to exactly manipulate individuals into equally powerful, target driven automatons. The disgust comes in the manipulation of such a powerful incentive as music or film to entice such unfortunate souls. As we discussed recently, it is the easiest way to kill an enthusiasm for the arts, to be saturated by the many negative aspects of one’s beloved media format of choice, with little or no outlet to explore the things that made that passion develop in the first place.

There is something very specific in the media consumer as well.
Obviously, as it has been the subject of film, music and parody for many years now. The constant damnation of those whom frequent the business that now controls you, is one of the small things that keep the day going, but how long can anyone take of that before they become unjustly opinionated and constantly judgemental? When you are constantly expected to critique and cast aspersions, there will come a point when you are just going through the motions. The record store critic is slowly becoming an untrustworthy guide, probably because he hates your very existence and calls you a pedophile as soon as you leave the store.

To attain a true appreciation for anything, one must be able to make fair comparison, to separate personal opinion for artistic worth. The world has become almost too cynical to be cynical anymore, and apathy is steadfast taking place as the emotion of choice. Everybody is a critic now, the internet has allowed us all to add our two cents, why then are so many inclined to be so vehemently negative on all counts?

As these are our peers, they are our generation, it is a concern. If taken away from their captors, to bypass the appeal of a 20% staff discount and the chance at running their own (wait for it) section, of the store, to just walk away, could all the knowledge, the ambition, the talent and the dreams flourish? Maybe not, but they’d have a better chance than they do now.

To Be Continued……………………………………….

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