“Why do we call em civil servants?” and other Obscene Displays of Affection

Why do we call em civil servants? Aren’t servants already civil, by definition? Are there uncivil civil servants? Then, there’s no real need for the “civil” is there? unless it’s for emphasis.

Why “servants”? Servants to who? exactly? To the state? To society? Are civil servants civilian? Or are they un-civilian – are they state apparatuses, rogue agents, or secret personnel of a planned robot revolution? Definitely not the last one. At least I’m sure of that.

What do civil servants actually do? Clearly, they serve. What do they serve? Not food, surely? They serve bureaucracy-on-a stick, as either an entrée or a buffet spread. Perhaps. Maybe. Whatever it is, we know how they serve. They serve civil-ly. They don’t serve un-civil-ly. That’ll be problematic. For everyone. At least. I’m sure of that. Yup.

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Okay. So. I’ve been way too busy these days to bother with blogging. Not that you lot mind. You guys who care and understand and empathize with all the oddities of our wickedly twisted reality. Life gets busy, we’ve all been there before. The big news of late, if you don’t already know, is that I’m officially registered to be an employee of the state. Hence all that philosophical mambo jumbo in the preceding paragraphs.

“Gee Carrick, what’re you gonna be? Tell us Tell us~” comes the inevitable question of the internetz masses.
Welp.
You’re looking at the beginnings of an “urban planner” baby.
Hurrah.

Don’t ask for job specifics, because I haven’t started work yet. That’ll be in a week. I’m hoping what they’ll do is put me in a lab with a workstation together with the entire SimCity collection + expansion sets, and say “Thou shalt play em games, and write weekly reports on your progress! Good luck~ Don’t fuck up (or we’ll fire your ass ina no-time)! P.S.: Ignore the Invading Aliens.”

In retrospect, I guess all those days spent playing with simulation games were well worth the effort huh.

In any case, I’ll be over at da URA offices for the better part of the next 3 years, so if you’re in the locale, you know who to holler at for impromptu lunch meetings. The first 5 lucky callers will get a lifetime supply of email spam, an open letter regarding the psychotic weather patterns of Singapore, and a ziplock of poignant happy-sad memories. And if it so happens that I’d pack an apple for lunch that day, I may even throw it forcefully in your general direction. Don’t forget to catch, champs!