Log 16-9-13 Learning how to smash the glass ceiling that holds you back
September 16, 2013
Every business man reaches a point, when he realizes he needs to reinvent himself – if he wants to go further and higher. That glass ceiling can take many shapes and form – it could be trying to get into an inner circle where movers and shakers regularly hang out or getting invited for tea luncheons where the choicest cuts are regularly splayed out – whatever form and shape that glass ceiling may take, one thing is certain – those at the very top of the food chain will always try their very best to keep out those who try to break in – this they usually do by ritualizing their cult of exclusivity with elaborate customs and traditions that are designed specifically to make it difficult, if not impossible for someone like me to join their ranks.
But when one takes a long and hard look at what they claim to be special, exclusive and even highly prized – all it really is, is something that’s so mundane and common that there is nothing really special about it. It’s after all just smoke and mirrors dressed up as a thing everyone should aspire to play, that’s all it is. And to win one simply needs to learn and understand how the game is played at this level.
“My enemies have a funny way of trying to box me up. Whenever I try to break into their exclusive inner social circle – they put up all sorts of ridicolous barricades to keep me out.
Now it seems even my money is not good enough – they’ve made it impossible for me by putting me on a ten year waiting list just to join a country club. If that’s not bad enough, they’ve even arranged it so that I get black balled every time my name is mentioned – to add insult to injury everyone after me somehow manages to get in line before me - of course, everyone is too polite to use the word ‘unsuitable.’ But there are enough hints of cosy insiderism to suggest that they mean to keep me out indefinitely.
That would be well and fine if I could continue turning the wheel of life cutting deals as I regularly do in some jungel clearing or haggling over land prices in some cow boy town kopitiam over guiness stout and wild boar curry - but I have grown out from that small time game and I want a bigger slice of the action.
Yes my enemies know it only too well – I am a dangerous man. They mean to shut me out from their rarified polite world – a world where they know only too well that if I find myself prowling its only a matter of time before their way of life will be flushed down the chute as I will begin to undermine them from within and network to spread my net of influence and grow bigger.
But unknown to them, there’s a loop hole in their iron clad design to keep me out – you see, a country club or for that matter any country club can really only continue to exist as a country club if that silly game they all consider the most beautiful game in the world is played well.
Sure, deals are still struck in the pavillion with probably the obligatory wink of the eye, nudge etc etc etc. But if no one can play the game well – then the whole lie just breaks right down.
But how does one go about learning how to play golf when one can’t even get into a country club? When you think about it, it’s a classical racket isn’t it – one that reminiscent of those jobs where you need to join a union to get into that job, but since you first need to get into that vocation to get a union card – how the fuck do you actually go about getting your hands on a union card or even land yourself that job? See what I mean by the perfect glass ceiling. I’ve noticed rich people like to bend the rules so that it always favors them by making sure once they get into a good thing – they set about keeping everyone else who they believe whose less worthy than them from getting in – fuck them lah!
Fortunately, I am able to use my DIY Mossad secret agent techniques (How to succeed in business like a Mossad secret agent) to get to know enough ground hands and caddies to regularly brush up on my golf – I’ve been secretly training for six months – mostly during the unearthly hours which require me to wake up at 4.45 am.
As for my personal assesment of the sum total of their fuck game. Let me just say this. There is absolutely nothing hard nor difficult about golf, it’s a myth - the only reason why golf appears incredibly difficult is because everyone who plays it is either so old all their joints have to held together with superglue, suffers from type 2 diabetes or so fat that they need to go around in obesity inducing buggies – truth of the matter is for someone whose super fit and has excellent hand and eye coordination who cut his teeth in that other extreme sports quadrant where angels and flabby folk fear to tread - golf the game, has to be by every practical definition - an absolutely zero physical skill sport that requires as much elan and panache as probably urinating - it’s a very natural game where you just need to keep to a few basic rules – hit the small squarely on the sweet spot and just follow right thru - learnt it all through the internet - there is nothing to it really - no mystery or Da Vinci code there, so I have absolutely no idea what the fuss is all about – it’s remarkable when you think about how rich folk regularly go about mythologizing their game as they wax lyrical no end about the ultimate game that to me has as much depth as splitting firewood!
I can’t for the life of me think of a more time wasting and comatose inducing game where a man hits a white ball and keeps following it only to hit it time and again – if golf wasn’t a game, people who regularly do that in the blistering heat would be shot with a tranquilizer gun and thrown into a mental institution – but since only rich and powerful people play golf, even madness it seems is somehow sane.
Once I finish off polishing the loose ends of my game to a level where I can drive a ball with a seven iron beyond 170 meters (I am around 160) , that’s the point when I will try to join this fuck club via the back door, as an independent candidate - someone who gets in by sheer playing skill alone by qualifying to play for the Planter’s cup – if I even come in within the seventh placing (which shouldn’t be a problem at all. As my secret army of groundhands and caddies who I promised a pay rise if I ever get in and get elected into the committee have all arranged to sabotage the rest of the players. These fuckers all have no idea how snakey I can get!), technically, as everyone whose in the league is probably only there because they can afford to while their time in the fairway - no one can black ball me! – I just stroll right in through the service entrance and the first thing I am going to do is kick the shit out of that glass ceiling! As for my enemies, all they can do is watch in horror…They wouldn’t even know what hit them – as I have planned it all like a commando mission – failure is not an option – I will break thru!”