anghara (anghara) wrote,
anghara
anghara

Open Application for a Job You're Going to Find Hard To Believe Was Actually Advertised

So this turned up on Craigslist in Boston a week ago, apparently (although I am having a hard time believing that's it's really real...):

"Emotional Writer Needed For Support Community for Affluent Individuals (Boston) © craigslist -

compensation: $30 per post

contract job
telecommuting okay

Special community for people who have earned a lot of money or been born into a wealthy family needs a blog ghostwriter. The focus of the community is providing psychological support for the problems money brings -- family tensions, unfulfillable expectations, boredom, etc. To do this you must be intimately familiar with the problems faced by wealthy people. If you grew up wealthy or through some other means can write detailed blog posts on this topic, please get in touch.

The posts need to be highly personal, emotional and have a strong editorial voice. These are anything but generic lectures. We are looking for 3 posts per week and each post pays $30. If you're interested, please send a brief cover letter with some suggested topics so we can see that you really can come up with specific topics which touch the hearts of people from affluent families along with some writing samples of your personal, emotionally charged writing. It should all be pasted into the body of the email. We can't open attachments. Thanks
!"

The whole thing is here, if you don't believe me.

So I thought I'd apply. Right here. If you dare me I'll send them the link.

Dear Arbitrator of Advertised Job and Speaker for the Affluent Individuals of Boston,

I'm writing to apply for the advertised position of ghost blogwriter who will be tasked with chronicling the woes of said Affluent Individuals. Tackling individual points from your ad in order - let's skip the compensation part for now, we'll get back to that later - but starting with your first paragraph.

You're right. It's a special community of people.

Whereas a large number of those outside the great closed gates of it have long since woken from the thing once known as the American Dream, a lulling and now rapidly shredding melody played on instruments that nobody really has the time or the money to keep in tune any more - the special community inside is still dreaming, gently, beautifully, wearing clothes made from floaty fabrics that sparkle in the sunlight and walking with narrow bare aristocratic feet on soft grass which is kept clipped and watered and properly cared for where it laps the edges of sapphire pools set into natural fake rocky landscapes with trickling artificial waterfalls splashing into the deeper end and mimicking the long lost romantic wildernesses which sound so absolutely enticing when described in pages of books or (well, maybe you guys don't read so much any more) watched vicariously on big screen plasma TVs that make it seem ALMOST like you're there yourself but without having to cope with the bugs and the heat and the pesky native tribes who insist on spoiling the scenery by walking around nekkid except for dirty loincloths which you really curl your lip at because you don't believe they've EVER seen the inside of a washing machine. And it's a dream they'll do a lot to protect and preserve.

You say that the focus of the community is to provide "...psychological support for the problems money brings -- family tensions, unfulfillable expectations, boredom, etc." Oh, I can understand this, and I can SO cater to it. I can completely understand that you can get so bored with your fake paradise because you absolutely know there is nothing inside it that can possibly hurt you. I can understand completely the family tensions that arise when one sibling feels like the other has received a coveted latest gadget BEFORE them, or has got in first when wheedling something out of Daddy which means that by the time THEY get there Papa is already bored and the one who got late to the game now must think of something new and different to demand in order to keep family interest up. There's no such thing as "unfulfillable expectations", by the way - that's for the hoi polloi outside the gates. If you've got enough money you can buy any expectation that you want, really - kid wants to go to Harvard? Just buy them a new lecture hall or provide a large endowment. You want to play major league sport? Well, you might not be able to quite keep up, yourself, but you can always buy your own team. You want your brand new young wife (and I mean young) to be in the movies? Buy a production company and make your own (and you can always pretend to be "indie" - indie is HOT these days). And trust me, I can and will show you a million ways not to be bored.

Yes, I can be intimately familiar with the problems faced by wealthy people. You'd be surprised how many of us can. No, I didn't grow up wealthy - but you see, I have these other sterling qualities that will stand me in good stead in this job. I listen well, I write beautifully the things I have heart, I have empathy, I have heard (those latter qualities may not last me long in this position, but for the nonce you can buy those too with enough money... but we'll get back to the compensation, like I said).Yes, I can write DETAILED blog posts on the pains of being rich. I can imagine quite a few, and you'd be astonished at the detail that I can provide. ASTONISHED, I tell you. You want to put me to the test? I'm game. Give me a topic.

Yes, I can write highly personal, emotional posts with a strong editorial voice. I've made people cry before. I can do it again. I will never provide anything "generic", least of all a lecture. If you're interested, let me know and we can hammer out a list of topics - but they might include

"I'm devastated - my Bichon Frise just chewed the heel off of the left shoe of the first pair of my new Christian Louboutin boots - the black pair - luckily I bought three pairs in different colours which will go with different outfits and I can always wear the purple pair to the fundraiser dinner for the new Governor tonight."

"My child's school costs more than the annual salaries of four of my employees but they are doing SUCH a bad job - I mean, they actually insisted that she read something other than 'Twilight' for her book report last month - and she was so upset when she came to me with this problem - but I do know how to fix it, they can always use a Spa Wing at her school and I can put my name on it and it can be tax deductible."

"The new media company I just bought because it badmouthed me on the Internet needs to be re-launched with a more me-friendly theme to it which caters less to issues I have no interest in - women's rights, for instance, or the rest of the OPP topics (that's Other People's Problems, for those acronym challenged) - where do I find a web designer whom I don't have to pay all that much - maybe some kid straight from school, laden with student loans and hungry to get whatever he can to make a dent in those...?"

"My new lobbying campaign to the halls of government has stalled - what are the best 'gifts' to offer to the right people, and who are the best people to offer them to...?"

"The joys of hiring and firing - anyone from housekeepers and gardeners to hedge fund managers and company VPs who aren't pulling their weight straight on up to your own personal Senator..."

You want samples of my "personal emotionally charged writing" - I think I'll direct you to Amazon, and a little book called "Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax" Yes, I know you don't read. Much. But you wanted samples. And you really won't break the bank by buying a copy of that book. Go, browse. I'll wait. If you can't open attachments I don't know that I want to trust stuff to email either - got get the damn hard copy and read THAT.

Now, about remuneration (I told you we'd come back to that). Here's the thing. You get what you pay for - and you CAN pay for this, I know this (that word "affluent" in the subject line tells me that, My vocab is AWFULLY good.) And if you get me, you get everything you asked for, and more.

I will make those people crowding at your gates WEEP for your troubles. I will make the people of Detroit whose access to water was cut off even when they PAID their arrears bills shed hot tears over your troubles. I will make the homeless shudder over the fact that you haven't redecorated your third vacation home in THREE YEARS. I will make the workers leaving their homes and their young children to go to their second jobs on squalid and inadequate public transport weep over your ten-car garage filled with - oh, the horror - LAST year's models of hot SUVs and the occasional indulgence like your red Ferrari convertible (well, that's got a few years on it, doesn't it, but it's VINTAGE...) I will make those without the money to pay this month's power bill scream at the described sight of the wash of light that pours from the windows of your many-roomed mansions, even from those rooms which are empty. I will make those waiting in line at low-end grocery stores filled with unhealthy foods clutching their food stamp coupons in their hands drool at the thought of the feasts which I can see - and describe, with all the right senses - on the laden and groaning tables of your opulent dining rooms with all the correct silverware in all the correct positions. I will make the poor slobs waiting in line to be groped by "security" agents laugh wildly as they watch you sashay past them on your way to your gleaming private planes.

I will do all these things.

But just in case that this was NOT your intended audience (it wasn't? How odd...) I can also write sob stories which will make your peers want to tear their hair out, too. I can make the Keeping Up With The Joneses (or would that be the Kardashians, in your world? or the Kochs?) into an art form. You will come out of this smelling like roses, and I don't think you'll mind too much that it isn't REAL roses, I can manufacture enough artificial chemical perfume to make the illusion live (and we won't ask where that came from). You want emotional, and heartfelt, and passionate? I can do that. I can do ALL that. Better still, I can make the most insignificant of problems assume the approximate dimensions of the Himalayas, and I can scale down things that look insurmountable to the size of a pea (ridicule and satire are powerful weapons, and I can use them...) I can do it all. I can stroke your ruffled feathers, I can make you look magnanimous for the poor, I can make you look movie-star perfect so you can dazzle your peers.

But for this, you're going to have to pay a LOT more than $30 a post.

See, I know you can afford it. The word "affluent" again, see? And what's more, now that you've put this ad out into the wild, *I know you need it*. You need someone good, someone who isn't going to make things worse for you, someone to soothe you and to cocoon you ever further into your little pod from which you can pretend that the rest of the world really doesn't exist and you don't have to deal with it. I can be that shield. I can be that mask. I can be that writer.

But you pay me a minimum of $10,000 a month.

Yes you can get it for less. *Far* less. But now that I've put this into your head, here's one of the greatest problems of the "Affluent" that the "Affluent" will ever have. You can - and probably will - get someone to scrunch out your precious little three-times-a-week posts for $30 a pop - but now you KNOW you can do better, so much better than that. And what guarantee do you now have that your neighbour, the"Affluent" person who lives on the borders of your own estate, *won't* go one higher, one better, and hire me? And because THEY're paying me, what guarantees do you now have that I won't dig up stuff on YOU and use it in those posts they are paying me so handsomely for?

Do I hear $12,000? $20,000?...

I'll be over here, smirking.

You guys, you have fun. ANd I might just write some posts about you anyway.

For free.
Tags: rant.
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