She can write, I'll give her that, but contentwise it is exactly the unreflected pseudo-intellectual crap you'd expect from a "journalist". How can you be so na

She can write, I'll give her that, but contentwise it is exactly the unreflected pseudo-intellectual crap you'd expect from a "journalist". How can you be so naive to sign up to become a propaganda foot soldier for the culture industry and then expect anything else but soulless stab-in-the-back ass-kissing work? This sense of comradery she is missing is the glimmer of class consciousness. It's strangely real, it's people who know they are at the bottom and they're in it together. The corporate world on the other hand is fake. It consists of bosses who want to be treated like a friend or a royal when it suits them. It consists of colleagues who will throw you under the bus for that promotion and you will do the same, but you both act like you don't know it will happen. It is that subconscious shame of betrayal from people like the author, who romance about the precariat on their personal blog and then go back to work to beat down on their former friends with the proverbial cultural stick in service of the man.