Lucy Stein & France-Lise McGurn present NEO-PAGAN BITCH-WITCH!
Rachal Bradley | Vanessa Disler | Sian Dorrer (ACID PRAWN) | Julia Feyrer | Manuela Gernedel | Celia Hempton | Tamara Henderson | Georgia Horgan | France-Lise McGurn | Rita Mcgurn | Shana Moulton | Nell Peto | Joanne Robertson | Katie Shannon | Clare Stein | Lucy Stein | Alice Theobald | Urara Tsuchiya | Camilla Wills | Issy Wood
“Advance into Retreat” Katherine Parker.
I am out of the office with intermittent access to email. I’d love to help you, but…
Sooooooh…. where are we at? It’s been a while. Let’s call it like I see it. I didn’t leave mergers and acquisitions, they left me. I’d wrongsided the demographic (‘cocktail of misanthropic emotive states’). My capture was fading. I was losing bandwith. I didn’t leverage that ‘unyielding integrity’, you got me? Look, this is who I was meant to be. Eye that shalt not be swayed by fear. Accumulate. Just a wolfblood. Never missin’ out. So this is all I need to be, just let me transform. Drinkin’ Ritalin’ LOL!
More than anything I yearned for a little time, just to assess and mitigate immediate impacts, to develop a high-level overview that’d really frame the conversation. Sure, we all need process, some fast 540-degree thinking, but what you people all seem to really want is something that simply lets you return to the wild. Not ‘not new but neo’, but narcissism nouveau. Loop back. Sit by fire in the ancient way. Honour rich heritage. Humble and open. Laverbread with cockles. Re-strategized emotional research. And so, I entered on the deep and savage way.
Linkedin indicated that I was receptive to an offer. I pounced on the first with all the wholeheartedness I could stomach. ‘Lead Attentiveness Evangelist’ for some anonymous oracle who spends most of its days on the fruit machines at the Accelerando Four Seasons (never burn bridges. Today’s junior prick, tomorrow’s senior partner). From the get-go I wasn’t just living the values, I was the values. Sprinkling a little of my magic. In this space, I call to thee. This is my will, So Mote It Be.
It was all cascaded through FaceTime: “Breathe in (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe out (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe in (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe out (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe in (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe out (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe in (1,000,000 Rupiah), Breathe out (1,000,000 Rupiah)… Slowly open your eyes.” Look, you, I handle blot ritual by any means necessary. I do not let personal feelings restrain. Strong will of mind. Confidence to succeed. One candle of color, will make them accede.
Reputational damage aside, never had any insecurities to lose, completely lucid. Looking backwards into myself. There’s no reflection in this mirror. And so, you know, nothing to worry about. Got all of my ducks in a row. “My life didn’t please me, so I created my life”, Coco Chanel!
And pretty soon enough I was suffocating from all the fucking holism. Gimme some prudence, some self-reliance, some granularity: not everything is connected! But, turns out doing a little re-branding work on the self does wonders for improving one’s marketability, maximising labor potentials. It appeals directly to the kind of ‘emotional intelligence’ that buys a sincere product just to feel ‘different’. Earth, grass, trees and seeds reveal the brand to suit their needs. As Age ordains and Birth concedes, all they shall lose are my proceeds.
Sooooooh, one of my interns spends a little me-time at a fuss-free sacred woman intensive working hard on how the market views my ‘feelings of affectivity’. Time out from endless pot-pourri. OMGGGGGGGGGG. Voyage, voyage. Esperanto soundtrack. Days of our Lives photography. Learn to tune yourself out. Recede. She ‘notices’. Seigfried’s milkweek, cetipede, flaxseed, ganymede, poppy seed… She is colonically irrigated by a mesopagan idea shower. There’s an erupting superabundance of value, an exuberant flowering of unwaged energy given happily, enjoyed and joyfully exploited. Intercede, proofread mortgage deed, tweed-greed, overfeed white bead, lightspeed title deed.
ATTENTION. After just one week, my affectivity ratings are going through the roof. I dispatch another succubus from the typing pool for some daily affirmations that win me even more hearts and minds. I can see at once the immense potential, my interns’ authentic passions transubstantiated as capital through the power of repeating words as often as they feel is right. The vernal equinox is happy to offload and govern more than 78% of my workforce’s emotional labor, keeping one ahead of one’s peers by promising everything else a fuller, better life.
I settled my self into this, actioned it. Transubstantiated all my assets as a willow sapling in the throbbing epicentre of the Bay Area. It has its own occult blog that updates on the half hour. And also in addition this leaves my fingers free to get on with architecting a franchise of Druid-friendly meeting venues and retreats. Psychoactivity Center for Responsibilization: remodelling today’s whirling dervishes into tomorrow’s leading prosumers. The brand ID is exquisite: a snow white cross resting quietly on a snow white background. Gaian heir apparent of Euroluxe Martini ads (anytime, anyplace, everywhere). I have fun doing this. Getting it through the pipeline. But, at close of play, I’m not doing it for fun. Good luck!