Attention LinkedIn:
God is dead so there's a decent job opportunity out there.
Here in Los Angeles it's a very competitive field but in Paris where my good friend Currado Malaspina lives it's a burgeoning industry and the place is like the Wild West.
Currado has always been a charismatic chap and the prospect of leading a trail of unquestioning acolytes toward an Arcadia of artistic bliss had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. But the grander ambition, the one where legendary heavyweights like Sri Chinmoy, Menachem Mendel Schneerson and Werner Erhard have inked their lithographic plates, was never something Malaspina thought himself capable of.
Then, on a long car trip to Limoges with his dealer Monique De Stylo, he experienced a small oracular vision. They were listening to some loud meditative EDM on Le Mouv' when they lost their wifi after entering the Eurotunnel. In Currado's telling the ensuing silence became fraught with a mute but unmistakable hostility. Monique and Currado had long since dropped any pretense toward friendship. Theirs was a marriage of convenience and like a tired couple with school-age kids they were deferring their final rupture for a more propitious moment.
To break the spell Monique hastily popped in the nearest CD - an American audio book on something called psycho-cybernetics. As a rule, Currado performed a sort of mental bulimia whenever he was exposed to the numbing claptrap of 'positive thinking.' He often wondered what our intellectual life would have become had Sartre, Beckett and Joyce adapted a "curriculum for living" that emphasized transformation, completion, and affirmative self-image.
In any event, after two droning traffic-filled hours of 'life without limits,' Currado was convinced that he too had heard the call. What better time than the present for France to hire him, Currado Malaspina, as its new national Godhead!
