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Unemployment is of vital importance, particularly to the unemployed.

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Unemployment I Hate You

I was at varsity in my comfort zone.
I never knew the reality.
My dreams were unlimited.
Sky was the limit.

I never knew that today I would be
Sitting here unemployed, so hopeless
and ashamed of my self.

All my dreams are fading.
Unemployment you are the cause of poverty.
Unemployment you are the cause of depression.
Unemployment you are a poison.
Unemployment you are a disaster.
Unemployment I hate you.

To be employed it's not about how you know
But, about who you know.

Corruption, nepositism and cronyism
Are the recipes for poverty and unemployment.
Unemployment I hate you.

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Job Networks and Enlightenment Rooms

The unemployed proletariat had just finished with the Centrelink’s rigmarole,
Of paper forms, and signing his name, and all the stuff the unemployed got to do.
Running around doing the paper chase, which is a part of the dole regime.
Next, it was the Job Networks, the employment organization now privatised.
A new dole treadmill for the unemployed, encouraging an attitude highly industrialized.

“Welcome to Job Network” the t.v. monitor said, on a recorded video machine.
“We are a privatized organization for the purpose of getting you into employment.
We are here to help you to find your talents, and potentials, to improve your
Abilities, so that you can re-enter the work force to have a life of independents.
This is far better than being on welfare forever with your dependants”.

The interviewers in the Job Network office were old grannies,
Complete with false colorings and artificial additives.
“I’m your case manager, I’m assigned to you, and you are here to sign a contract.
The Job Search And Activities Plan and responsibilities and employment to find.
To ensure you’re meeting your obligations to society not to be in your dole grind”.

The granny said.”Under governmental policies your association with us is for all life.”
Granny continued.“There will be no talk-back, yak-back, smart-back nor fart-back.
If we find you to be deficient in abilities, then you have to do a course of some sort.”
The proletariat looked a bit stunned said. “At my age, late forties, it's a bit late.”
Granny said. “It’s never too late to train.” she did not like his mind’s negative state.

The proletariat said to the false colored granny with artificial additives.
“I got a really bum hip, and with it I can't do much, and it seems I can't have a pension.
I’m not 97 per cent dead, nor can I work in a factory any more, it’s quite hopeless.”
Continuing. “I’m 49, over the hill and even at 40 no one is going to hire me any more”.
Granny said. “There’s anti-age-discrimination laws that help’s you in life furthermore.”

The proletariat bemused said. “Funny, I never heard. Daadaa-daatatitit-dududdaada-daaa”
THIS IS THE CHANNEL NINE NEWS, THE MOTORING ORGANIZATION
DISCRIMINATED AGAINST THIS MIDDLE AGED BLOKE FOR A CLERICAL
JOB AND THE ANTI-DISCRIMINATION BOARD IS TAKING ACTION.
FURTHERMORE ITS INTOLERABLE THE UNEMPLOYED CANT HAVE TRACTION.

This made grandma very angry, and she looked at the proletariat with contempt.
And said that the proletariat didn't want to work and had a severe attitude problem.
Grandma said it was about time to do a attitude course against negative attitudes.
It was being held in the same building in the “Enlightenment Room” for all dolies.
Grandma said it’s about time that the proletariats guard against their follies.

“Follies? ? I don’t think I have attitudes nor follies” The proletariat said, and continued.
“I lost my job due to imports from India, how can I possibly find work if Australia
Imports everything in untold billions of dollars worth of imported goods.
Further more, Australia has call centres and “IT” jobs in India, sucking all jobs out
Of Australia, so how could I possibly find work, faaarout.

Grandma was starting to become impatient with this proletariat smart arse.
“We have anti-discrimination laws against what you’re saying.”

[...] Read more

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Out Of Work

8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work

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Book II - Part 04 - Absence Of Secondary Qualities

Now come, this wisdom by my sweet toil sought
Look thou perceive, lest haply thou shouldst guess
That the white objects shining to thine eyes
Are gendered of white atoms, or the black
Of a black seed; or yet believe that aught
That's steeped in any hue should take its dye
From bits of matter tinct with hue the same.
For matter's bodies own no hue the least-
Or like to objects or, again, unlike.
But, if percase it seem to thee that mind
Itself can dart no influence of its own
Into these bodies, wide thou wand'rest off.
For since the blind-born, who have ne'er surveyed
The light of sun, yet recognise by touch
Things that from birth had ne'er a hue for them,
'Tis thine to know that bodies can be brought
No less unto the ken of our minds too,
Though yet those bodies with no dye be smeared.
Again, ourselves whatever in the dark
We touch, the same we do not find to be
Tinctured with any colour.
Now that here
I win the argument, I next will teach

Now, every colour changes, none except,
And every...
Which the primordials ought nowise to do.
Since an immutable somewhat must remain,
Lest all things utterly be brought to naught.
For change of anything from out its bounds
Means instant death of that which was before.
Wherefore be mindful not to stain with colour
The seeds of things, lest things return for thee
All utterly to naught.
But now, if seeds
Receive no property of colour, and yet
Be still endowed with variable forms
From which all kinds of colours they beget
And vary (by reason that ever it matters much
With, what seeds, and in what positions joined,
And what the motions that they give and get),
Forthwith most easily thou mayst devise
Why what was black of hue an hour ago
Can of a sudden like the marble gleam,-
As ocean, when the high winds have upheaved
Its level plains, is changed to hoary waves
Of marble whiteness: for, thou mayst declare,
That, when the thing we often see as black
Is in its matter then commixed anew,
Some atoms rearranged, and some withdrawn,

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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.

First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?

Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;

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This Is Cause For Celebration

Aren't you happy to hear,
The unemployment rate...
Has gone down.

'Let's see...
People losing unemployment benefits.
Plus those who have given up seeking work.
And those companies who have taken their employees,
Overseas to pay no taxes here at all.
Who 'had' been unemployed and documented as such.

It's great to know that!
Less jobs are being found.
And the unemployment rate,
Is going down!
It is a miracle.
This is cause for celebration.'

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Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind

First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
Counsel and regimen, is part no less
Of man than hand and foot and eyes are parts
Of one whole breathing creature. But some hold
That sense of mind is in no fixed part seated,
But is of body some one vital state,-
Named "harmony" by Greeks, because thereby
We live with sense, though intellect be not
In any part: as oft the body is said
To have good health (when health, however, 's not
One part of him who has it), so they place
The sense of mind in no fixed part of man.
Mightily, diversly, meseems they err.
Often the body palpable and seen
Sickens, while yet in some invisible part
We feel a pleasure; oft the other way,
A miserable in mind feels pleasure still
Throughout his body- quite the same as when
A foot may pain without a pain in head.
Besides, when these our limbs are given o'er
To gentle sleep and lies the burdened frame
At random void of sense, a something else
Is yet within us, which upon that time
Bestirs itself in many a wise, receiving
All motions of joy and phantom cares of heart.
Now, for to see that in man's members dwells
Also the soul, and body ne'er is wont
To feel sensation by a "harmony"
Take this in chief: the fact that life remains
Oft in our limbs, when much of body's gone;
Yet that same life, when particles of heat,
Though few, have scattered been, and through the mouth
Air has been given forth abroad, forthwith
Forever deserts the veins, and leaves the bones.
Thus mayst thou know that not all particles
Perform like parts, nor in like manner all
Are props of weal and safety: rather those-
The seeds of wind and exhalations warm-
Take care that in our members life remains.
Therefore a vital heat and wind there is
Within the very body, which at death
Deserts our frames. And so, since nature of mind
And even of soul is found to be, as 'twere,
A part of man, give over "harmony"-
Name to musicians brought from Helicon,-
Unless themselves they filched it otherwise,
To serve for what was lacking name till then.
Whate'er it be, they're welcome to it- thou,
Hearken my other maxims.

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(Humility Poem) A Nobody

I am nobody.
I keep telling you this.
Why won't you just listen?
I have no importance.
I have made no great discoveries.

Just trust me.
Let someone else make a stand and lead.
Captain please get me my steed.
A horse of a mighty fine breed indeed.
Fast as she can go we're off to to save the world to be.

I am nobody.
I keep telling you this.
Why won't you just listen?
I have no importance.
I have made no great discoveries.

Sir great knight, you have made so many of such wise decisions.
In the past and present.
Why won't you let us follow you to all of our deaths?
I don't desire to be your mistake.
A choice of whose blood to spill.
It will be only my own, I must do this all alone.

I am nobody.
I keep telling you this.
Why won't you just listen?
I have no importance.
I have made no great discoveries.

Let me teach from afar.
Let me never be your fallen star.
A disgraceful man who's got so little to show for all his hard work.
Please don't ask me If you can plaster me all over your tea shirts.
Idol not a single a human being.
Because no one as a individual is that great.

I am nobody.
I keep telling you this.
Why won't you just listen?
I have no importance.
I have made no great discoveries.

Mistakes will be made by both the cowardly and brave.
How far will you go to get entangled in the web we make.
To say I was part of this mans life.
Even if it was lies in which you created.
A once upon a time he was celebrated.
Now he has become just so jaded.

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A Drop

When unemployed,
Why the desires are desired more?
Why the more worries are worried?
Why the needs are increased?
Why the inability is enabled?
Why the confidence Is disabled?
More than ever as a rat,
Yet to be caught,
In the trap of illusion,
Of others ignoring us,
Not being respected.

Millions of us,
May be unemployed,
With little savings,
With Monthly mortgages,
A few mouths to feed,
A strong heart to hold and cherish,
not to let this little boat to drift away,
Believe me, we are the survivors,
This obstacle will be removed,
As the morning dew,
Disappear in front of sun.
Until the day comes,
Let us lead a simple life.

Then we save enough,
To live a comfortable life.
In another crisis,
help those,
who are unemployed,
to get over the difficult,
period of their life.
until then, explore the gardens,
in our cities,
where the fresh air is free,
to oxygenate.

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I hate unemployment

I hate to be unemployed.
I used to think that I am a smart graduate.
I entered into University with a lot of hard works,
and I wish to become a success career lady one day.

I worked for 15 years plus,
but I am not a successful office lady.
Due to office politics,
I quit my job due to angers and hatred.

Actually I start to regret,
because I have been unemployed for 2 years and 3 weeks.

I wish to go back to work.
I wish to receive my monthly salary by every month end.
If I have salary on hand,
by month end I will go to shopping.
I will go for a facial treatment at least twice a month.
I may join gym and learn yoga everyday after work.
I may join slimming course.

But now I am unemployed.
I have spent mostly all my savings.
I applied more than 500 jobs in these 2 years.
God know what had happened towards me!

My name is ruined.
My reputation is gone.
I have no professionalism and integrity in the public
because my name is greatly ruined.

I cried.
I cry.
I was depressed.
I am depressed.
I am undergoing depression treatments.

Who care me?
Instead who care me!

I cry. I cry and I cry...

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Somebody Stole My Rig

I'm haulin' twenty tons of freight into New York state
Started thinkin' bout Mary Jane
She lived over the hill I had an hour to kill I thought I'd get in out of the rain
Oh my she looked so fine had a bottle of wine
I'd have myself a little bitty swig
Then I heard wheels on the cinders and I ran to the windows
And somebody stole my rig
Oh oh oh somebody stole my rig somebody stole my rig
Heard wheels on the cinders and I ran to the windows
And somebody stole my rig

And when I called up the cops told 'em I tried to stop 'em
And nobody answered the phone
And so I called up my honey told her send me bus money
She said don't bother comin' home
And so I called the boss and said the load was lost
I thought he's gonna flip his wig
Yeah a moment quick enjoyment now I'm back on unemployment
Cause somebody stole my rig
Oh somebody stole my rig somebody stole my rig
Hey a moment quick enjoyment now I'm back on unemployment
Cause somebody stole my rig

But if I ever get a job behind the wheel again
I'm never gonna fool around
I'll keep an eye on the road and an eye on the load
I'll never even slow it down
And I'll stay concerned with the lesson I learned
I bet it's gonna change my luck
And I'll never leave a truck to go visit no girl
I'm gonna bring the girls to the truck
Oh somebody stole my rig somebody stole my rig
Moment quick enjoyment now I'm back on unemployment
Cause somebody stole my rig
Yeah wheels on the cinders and I ran to the windows
And somebody stole my rig
(Yeah I tell ya my blackbook was in the glove compartment
That's what really bugs me uh huh
I I din't mind walkin' or losin' my job or anythin'
Somebody stole my rig
I mean they could have borrowed it and ask me before...)

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A Vicious Cycle

Taking life and feeding death
a broken path, a fork in the road.
Screaming, beating, defeating,
not making any sense but still vital to life and death.
Whispering cruel thoughts, stealing breath
voicing once hidden intentions.
Taking life and feeding death.

Gentle heat, steadfast heart
killing death to take a chance on life every fourth.
Fighting, winning and losing,
not making any sense but still vital to life and death.
Encouraging and coaxing, giving life
pushing back the darkness until its turn to submit.
Taking death and making life.

Whipped around, a vicious cycle
full of life and death, each vital to survival.
Giving up, making a new start, taking a chance on something new
Still making no sense at all, but perhaps it's not ment to.
Degrading, crushing, Encouraging, freeing
Compromise, age, learning to wait.
Life and death, each vital to survival.

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A Map Of Culture

Culture


Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?



What is Culture?


I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

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Les Gens Sans Importance

Paroles et musique : Yves Duteil
(c) 1981 by les ditions de l'critoire
Capo II
Ce sont des gens sans importance
Avec des gestes quotidiens
Qui font renatre l'esprance
Et le bonheur entre leurs mains
Ce sont des gens sans artifices
Qui vous sourient quand ils sont bien
Et vont cacher leurs cicatrices
Parmi les fleurs de leurs jardins
Ils ont le coeur un peu fragile
Et la pudeur de leurs chagrins
Leur donne un doux regard tranquille
Un peu lointain
Ce sont des gens sans importance
Et qui parfois ne disent rien
Mais qui sont l par leur silence
Quand ils sont loin
Moi j'ai le coeur en plein Dcembre
L'ami Pierrot s'en est all
En emportant mes chansons tendres
Et ton pass
Et tous les mots sans importance
Qui rsonnaient dans la maison
Mais qui sont lourds de son absence
Dans ma chanson
C'est peut-tre ceux-l qu'on pense
Quand la mort vient rder pas loin
En emportant notre insouciance
Un beau matin
tous ces gens sans importance
Avec lesquels on est si bien
Qui font renatre l'esprance
Et sans lesquels on n'est plus rien

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Frances McDormand

There's only two givens with choosing acting as a profession: one is you will always be unemployed, always, and it doesn't matter how much money you make, you're still always going to be unemployed; and that you have no power.

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When we're unemployed, we're called lazy; when the whites are unemployed it's called a depression.

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Look at the Palestinians with the huge, huge percentage of unemployed. What does that breed? Anyone who's unemployed in the world, you feel there's no meaning and there's a risk that you drift over to something desperate. Yes, we have to tackle the social problems as well.

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Why are people unemployed? Because there is no work. Why is there no work? Because people are not buying products and services. Why are people not buying products and services? Because they have no money. Why do people have no money? Because they are unemployed.

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And The Cradle Will Rock

Well, they say its kinda frightnin how this younger generation swings.
You know, its more than just some new sensation.
Well, the kid is into losin sleep and he dont come home for half the week.
You know, its more than just an aggravation.
And the cradle will rock.
Yes, the cradle will rock.
And I say, rock on!
Rock on!
And when some local kid gets down, they try and drum him out of town.
They say, you coulda least faked it, boy.
At an early age he hits the street and winds up tied with who he meets,
And hes unemployed.
And the cradle will rock.
Yeah, the cradle will rock.
And I say, rock on!
Rock on!
Have you seen juniors grades?
And when some local kid gets down, they try and drum him out of town.
They say, you coulda least faked it, boy.
At an early age he hits the street and winds up tied with who he meets,
And hes unemployed. his folks are overjoyed.
And the cradle will rock.
Yeah, the cradle will rock.
And I say, rock on!
Rock on!
Rock on!
Rock on!

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A Capitalist, a Socialist and a Poet

A Capitalist, a Socialist and a Poet

Capitalist: What profit's there to be made?
Socialist: And how the workers will get paid?
Poet: Forget potatoes and your stocks,
The beauty's in the shining locks
Of my sweet darling-there she is-
An angel gliding through the breeze.
Capitalist: That's fine and dandy. What's the price
Of that sweet bosom and those eyes?
What is the bottom line, my friend?
Socialist: This dreamy nonsense has to end-
With millions walking unemployed,
What beauty's there to enjoy?
Poet: And in the starlight late at night
I see my lady burning bright,
And that is all I really need-
No public good or private greed-
I want my freedom just to be
Away from life's banality.
Capitalist: Good luck, my friend, but then again
You could've been a richer man.
Socialist: And while your comrades starve and hurt,
All you can think of is some flirt,
Who steals men's wallets and their hearts,
While you pursue your foolish art.
Poet: Foolish or not, and who decides
What to extol or to deride,
What we imagine, what we seem,
What we aspire to and dream?
And do we know who we are
Beyond some house or a car,
Beyond our jobs, beyond this life
That starts at nine and ends at five?
Capitalist: You could, my friend, be self-employed.
Socialist: Or one of many unemployed.
Poet: I find my meaning in my art,
While beauty lies within the heart
And shared equally with all,
Igniting passion in the soul,
Beyond appearances and lies,
Beyond demand, beyond supply,
Beyond your wealth or state control-
Mine is the freedom of the soul
To love and dream and to behold
The beauty of the natural world.
Not to despise, and not to claim
To have some answers to your game
Of rich and poor - it's all the same -
I want to live before I die

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