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Don't Fear The Inferior!

>>>> Okay...
So just HOW DO our Bosses get away with making us believe that they're something special?

Something that must be feared and mindlessly obeyed?

Good question...

And best answered by the ancient  legend of the infamous:


The Samarzee Tribesmen of the Philippines were ruthless warriors notorious for running roughshod over their neighboring tribes.

Stealing land at will, they turned their conquests into virtual slaves, controlling every aspect of their lives. In a word, they were the “bosses”, unquestioned, feared, obeyed. But what’s really remarkable is how the Samarzees pulled this off. For you see, everything about the Samarzee army seemed to be grander than anything seen before.

They wore strikingly colorful body armor
that literally blinded their opposing forces.
Their spears were towering spires of
death that seemed to scrape the sky.

But no doubt their greatest intimidation
factor came from the awesomely impressive cod-pieces these warriors wore.

Humongous crotch covers evidently designed to protect.... how should we say... jumbo “privates”, the likes of which would leave even the most viral of bull water buffaloes feeling lacking.

One look at this magnificent display of seemingly godlike masculinity and  their rival forces would throw down their weapons and surrender, obviously seeing themselves as woefully understocked in the “parts department.”

This feeling of inferiority the Samarzees inflicted on the other tribes allowed them to totally dominate, to be the “big bosses” for generations.

To out-and-out “dictate”to their neighbors who they should answer to.                                           

That was until one day when a Young Boy, venturing away from his tribe, happened upon a group of Samarzee warriors as they bathed in the river, sans their cod-pieces.

What he saw shocked him! Seeing them in the "Full Monty", he saw that the Samarzees weren’t awesomely endowed at all, rather far from what one would even call "adequate".

Clearly what had been their greatest weapon was nothing more than the work of a brilliant costumer who’d developed what can only be described as the male equivalent of the “Wonder Bra.”

Their cod-pieces were really just ingeniously padded protrusions designed to give the illusion of "Great Things".

The young boy raced back to his village and quickly spread the news of his discovery: That instead of packin' monster cranks, the Samarzees only had cocktail franks!!

     Before that day was out, the once feared Samarzees were overrun and wiped out by the masses they had so deviously manipulated for decades. The people vowing never again to be fooled by a bunch of "arrogant dorks".

As the story shows, too often a boss’ greatness is built on illusion. In the case of the poor tribes of the Philippines, they feared their “bosses” because the Samarzee made them feel inferior.

But also as the story shows, if you look closely enough, you’ll see that things are not always what they seem. Until the day cod-pieces come back into style, the facade of choice for today’s Bosses is that of POWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Power to hire and fire. Power to give orders. Power to control our lives and make it a living hell!

But, let’s stop and look at this a moment.

Just what control do they really have?

Think about it. Their entire livelihood depends on the output of their workers. If you mess up -- it’s THEIR ass.

They can yell and intimidate and plead and bribe all they want. But in the end, they can not literally force you to do better (or worse, for that matter). So you see, you really have far more control than you ever imagined!

Think for a moment how pretty terrifying their life must be.
Helplessly stuck in the passenger seat while you drive them pell-mell down a winding mountain road. 

magine their foot wearing a hole through the carpet as they nervously stomp down on some non-existent brake pedal.

Desperate for the control they just don’t have. How they wish they were “Mr. Slate” to your “Fred Flintstone”, so they could stop the damn car by just digging their heels into the road.

But they can’t.

Sure they can fire you and get themselves another “driver”, but they’re never sure what they’re going to get. They could think they’re hiring Mario Andretti only to find, they’ve hired Mr. Magoo. For them, it’s one big crap shoot. 24 hours a day. Every day of their life.

Now you see why beneath their totally exaggerated, over-inflated, “Cod-piece of Power” lies the biggest monster of them all:

And you thought YOU had the exclusive rights on that monster!  Hey, your personal Tasmanian Devil is NOTHING compared to that gut-gnawing creature lurking behind those beady little eyes of that boss of yours.

So next time you let your boss drive you so crazy that you begin hallucinating that “Swamp Thing” is living in your local Sizzler Salad bar, don’t forget that you’re the one in the driver’s seat.

YOU make things work!!

And they're DAMN LUCKY to have you !!


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