My application for a job as a Psychic

Sigh

It's happening again. And by 'it', I mean proponents of Woo and pseudoscience nonsense are on the recruiting drive again.

The mysterious forces of Twitter have revealed that there is a vacancy for Psychic readers being advertised via the Directgov Jobcentre website. This isn't very encouraging. Apart from being an obvious shout out for anyone who wants to make easy money from the ignorant, gullible and/or desperate, this potentially risks the jobseekers allowance or other support measures provided for people who are looking for work but don't actively pursue this vacancy. I've never claimed jobseekers allowance myself (yet), but I'm reliably informed that you have to be demonstrably seeking out all possible opportunities for employment in order to count as a 'jobseeker'. Makes sense.

But is that a hard and fast rule for everyone. Would an unemployed devout Hindu lose benefits for not applying to work in a Butchers? Would a reformed alcoholic lose benefits for refusing to apply for a job in a pub or club? Would a Scientologist lose benefits refusing to work in a position which requires the use of rational thought? That last one's a trick question of course. Scientologists don't need money, they're powered by internal aliens and get their nutrition by eating DVDs of Battlefield Earth that were never purchased (i.e. all of them).

One assumes that provisions for beliefs/circumstances are in place, but I can't be certain. So concern has been raised about how a refusal to apply for this job would affect an unemployed person's benefits.

I personally think it should be OK on the grounds that the vacancy asks for 'natural psychic talent', meaning nobody on Earth is qualified. And for that matter, what's the alternative? What would qualify as 'unnatural' psychic talent? The ad requires you have Internet and a land line, is that what passes for unnatural psychic talent? The ability to communicate with people at a distance but via technological means? Or would you possibly need to have access to your own neuroimaging scanner, in order to 'read minds' unnaturally? People are overly impressed by brain scans, as I've pointed out before.

So I have no interest in this position. But then David Allen Green, alias Jack of Kent, casually suggested that I should apply. And when one of the big dons of the skeptic community tells you to do something, you jump to it!

Well, I do, you probably shouldn't, unless your starved for attention and the crumbs of leftover kudos generated by genuine achievers like JoK. In which case, feel free.

Sadly, the advert only provides contact details that allow you to apply by phone. I don't have the capacity/inclination to record a phone conversation, so if I'll write out my arguments for being awarded the job here. Hopefully, if enough people read it then the recruiting psychics will pick up the focused thoughts of almost a dozen people like some bargain basement Jedis and award me the position.

Statement in support of Application

Dear sir/madam/life form/disembodied spirit

I am writing/projecting to you in order to apply for the vacancy I discovered on the Jobseekers direct website for Psychic Readers (Ref. HAJ/40528).

I would very much like to earn money from the comfort of my own home, this has long been an ambition of mine. I have attempted to do this several times, but thus far it has not proved possible. It turns out meth labs are 'illegal' for some reason, Despite my being a trained and qualified scientist , and, unfortunately, nobody responded to my flyers offering massage/escort services (it was subsequently pointed out that if I was going to give out documents featuring pictures of myself in nothing but a posing pouch, I should have done something about my excessive body hair beforehand, or at the very least, showered).

However, despite these previous setbacks, I feel I am ready and suitably qualified for the role of Psychic Reader. For starters, I can read. The fact that I read the vacancy notice and was able to respond in this manner clearly supports this assertion. However, should you require further evidence of my reading ability, I can send you a list of all the words that I know and can comprehend when presented in a text format. The majority of these words can be found in any dictionary, and range from very short words like 'con', to long and complex words like 'gullibility'.

However, I also have some experience as a psychic. I have studied at the feet of the greatest psychic of all time, Bob Ramsey, so have impeccable references should you require them (although I note that you don't ask for them in the vacancy notice, so assume you don't want to leave a trail I mean incur too much paperwork). I have much experience with brains and the workings of the mind, having qualified as a doctor of Neuroscience. Admittedly, I saw no evidence of anything resembling psychic abilities or any systems that would support them during my research, but that's probably because I wasn't looking for them; they were probably there all along, yeah? But as a result of my research, it can be said that I have a detailed understanding of how people think. Admittedly, I have no idea WHAT they think, but with a bit of practice I'm sure I could get the hang of it.

To establish my suitability for the role of psychic reader, I have detailed my abilities in the main areas of psychic reading as I see them.

TELEPATHY: Many times during my previous experiences, I have found myself knowing what someone is thinking without them saying it out loud, and as such I believe I have a natural or 'sixth' sense (or possibly fifth; I don’t know what order senses are usually catalogued in, but a look through my Hawaiian shirt collection suggests that my sense of taste is completely shot so should be disregarded) for reading minds and detecting people's thoughts. Thoughts I have detected from others include "Why aren't you wearing trousers in the workplace?", "Despite the tightness of this garment, squeezing me there is not acceptable", "That joke was extremely unfunny as well as alarmingly offensive" and "you are a total stranger, get out of my house".

I realise that this is not a valid demonstration of telepathic abilities in and of itself, so to prove my worth, I shall now read your mind and describe exactly what you're thinking. Okay, here I go…

I'm getting… an image. Yes it's something…I see… a man… a man who's quite… buff? … buff… wearing very tight Lycra… very revealing… I think he's… yes, he's very shiny… oiled?... I think he is… ah, another man… he's just as big and muscular, but… yes, there's something different… this man, he's… darker? … yes, darker skinned… something… on his… ah, a turban! …and a suitcase…This second man is an immigrant to the UK perhaps? …yes, yes he is… and now… now the two men are… kissing!... yes, kissing… quite fiercely… and now they're undressing… and embracing each other… well, I say embracing, it's a lot more than that… Oh, dear, now there are thousands more men, all the same… all couples…all doing the same things. I sense you're feeling… deep… deep… very deep arousal! Almost unbearable sexual arousal… and now there's something in your hand… oh dear… it's… it's… … … a shovel? Yes, a razor sharp shovel! Oh, now… dear lord, now you're attacking the men! … dear God! The.. blood, the screams… the … carnage! Why? You're attacking them all, pausing only to smack the shovel extremely forcefully on your seriously engorged but still tiny member… and now… I'm getting a thought… it's… "This… will... make …a … good… column… for… the … … … Daily Mail?" ………..

Ah, sorry, I see what's happened there. I was picking up one of Richard Littlejohn's daydreams again. Very sorry. Still, shows I can do it, right?

CLAIRVOYANCE: I've always had a remarkable ability to see what's coming. Cars, buses, trains, angrily hurled fruit, you name it, I've seen it. Admittedly, all of these are physical objects and, in the case of buses and trains, can be anticipated with the aid of a basic time table. However, I have often had a sense of premonition and prediction of actual events and occurrences that would not normally occur. For example, after a recent night out with friends, whilst stood in a late-night fast food establishment attempting to consume something that can be called 'meat' until a more suitable term is coined, I had an unshakable premonition of intense stomach discomfort and vomiting. This premonition was proven correct in the end. My clairvoyance is not normally this clear, perhaps it requires excessive alcohol to suppress the distracting, rational areas of my brain, and therefore release my natural psychic talent?

Admittedly, this is not a completely reliable skill. Despite the fact that I do often have visions of the future, a lot of the time they don't pan out as I see them. Whenever I am on a date, I always envision the woman in question being impressed and wooed by my charm and sense of humour as they claim to like such things. Despite this, my use of the term 'sugartits' and my repertoire of Roy Chubby Brown jokes often result in the opposite reaction to that which I anticipate. Similarly, I sometimes suffer when predicting the future when using the cards. Just the other day, I formed predictions of improvements in my financial situation after revealing an ace and a 9 of clubs. This prediction was only scuppered by the fact that Franky 'The Hustler' Thuggson was not being completely truthful about what the cards had told him, and yet he was the one who was upset by the fact that I couldn't afford to pay his winnings, despite the fact that he was the one who had lied to me.

Suffice to say that my clairvoyance is reliable as long as I'm intoxicated and people don't deceive me. If people were to refrain from misleading me with false information, no doubt by now my psychic powers would have resulted in me having a girlfriend, more money, all the fingers on my left hand and both my kneecaps.

NECROMANCY: Admittedly, this is one of the areas of psychic ability that I struggle with, but my conviction and determination to develop my skills make me confident that I will become a reasonably capable necromancer and that this will allow me to pursue a career as a psychic reader.

During my previous career as a cadaver embalmer, I spent much time talking to the dead, although I never noticed any of them talking back. Admittedly, one of them did once make a sort of belching/gassy sound which may have been them attempting to speak through lungs filled with formaldehyde, but I can't say for certain; partly because what they 'said' was obscured by their physical condition, and partly because before they'd finished 'saying' it the surge of psychic powers had overwhelmed me somewhat and I ran away screaming and hid in a cupboard for 5 hours.

However, since then I have dutifully attempted to contact and speak to the dead wherever possible. For a while I took to wandering around graveyards with a stethoscope/ear trumpet and yelling at gravestones, but had to give that up after being angrily chased out of too many funerals. I also regularly find myself sensing an unfamiliar, eerie presence in my home. It's either the souls of the restless dead crying out to be heard by someone blessed with psychic powers, or one of the semi-conscious derelicts that used to visit when I operated the aforementioned meth lab that lack the wherewithal to realise I don't do that anymore. Either way, communicating with them takes intense concentration and supernatural skills, which I like to think I have. That or a sachet of sugar that I just throw out the window, that usually does the trick. However, as I live on the 7th floor, this could also be viewed as 'communing with the dead', albeit with a degree of foresight.

So there you have it. I feel these skills and experiences make me an ideal candidate for the role of psychic reader. And I know a lot of people feel this sort of work is unethical, but rest assured I do not. I believe the desperate and the grieving clearly have too much money, and if we don't charge them for providing our reassuring services they'll only squander it on 'Missing' posters and wreaths.

I look forward to hearing from you. And I won't end with some pitiful 'I know you'll give me the job because I'm psychic' joke. I know you'd hate that. Because I'm psychic.

Email: Humourology (at) live.co.uk

Twitter: @garwboy

Too rational for a Restaurant

You may have noticed a bit of a dearth of blog entries lately. If you have, this suggests that you have been checking regularly enough to notice a lack of regular updates. If this is the case, it implies to me that your life has even less going on in it than my own. In which case, kudos to you for not going stark-raving mad. Assuming you haven't. If you have, that's understandable. I probably would.

The reason for my lack of updating is that, during November, I swore I'd take a break from the online activities to concentrate on:

A) Things I'm being paid to do.

B) Finding more things that people will pay me to do.

I'm looking for regular work, essentially. I have several projects on the go that keep me active, but nothing concrete and reliable as of yet. So, as much as I enjoy my cynical waffling, skeptical networking, science satirising etc., I decided to put my virtual procrastination to one side and find some real work.

This provided some interesting results.

One of the things I've found when you apply for work in the scientific/academic fields is that they take quite a while to reply to you, if at all (this may be just me, admittedly). Once an application has been sent, I often find myself in some form of employment quantum superstate, in which I must keep applying for jobs because I don't have one, and must refrain from making too many applications as I might have an interview to worry about soon. If they don't bother telling you, being rejected instantly and being considered for interview feel exactly the same.

But one piece of advice I've been given is that if you're already working you're more likely to get a job than those who have been unemployed for a long period. This seems like a weird system to me, but I'm not in charge, so don't get to do anything about it. So, as a result, I've been applying for more 'mainstream' jobs in and around my local area.

So, I give you the story of why rational thinking meant that I'll never be a marketer

I recently applied for a role in a marketing company in the city centre. I saw the vacancies notice, sent off my CV, and thought no more of it. The ad read like some standard admin role, possibly with some events organising included (which I do definitely have experience in). I didn't have long to not think about it though, as I got a reply within 10 minutes. This struck me as odd, and it said something along the lines of 'can you come for a quick 10-15 minute interview next Monday?' The words 'cattle call' were at the forefront of my mind; this was obviously one of those occasions where they just invite everyone who included enough correctly spelled words on a CV which wasn't written in yellow crayon to turn up, and see if they're suitable face-to-face. Reading just takes time, doesn't it? And as for having to assess information...

I never enjoy this sort of thing, but I had Skeptics in the Pub that evening so needed to be in town anyway, so thought 'why not?'...

Why do I never attempt to answer the question 'why not?' I don't really know anything about marketing companies apart from what my Dad tells me and what I read in Dilbert.

Anyway, I went to the interview, suited and booted, with another copy of my CV as requested (I'd emailed it to them twice already, but I guess they were low on printer ribbons). After filling in a form with all my details which I had already emailed them (printer issues again, I guess) and waiting for about 30 minutes, I was ushered into an office, introduced to a guy who's name I instantly forgot (not deliberately, I'm bizarrely crap with names) and began the interview. It was basically a monologue about the company, how it's expanded 40,000% during the recession (not an exaggeration, that's what he said, which suggests that this company covers a decent fraction of the Earth's surface), how they were desperately looking for people to train up to management level within 6-10 months, as opposed to 3-5 years. It was lucky he had a copy of my CV, as he needed something to doodle rough diagrams on while he spoke, just in case I had trouble understanding what was being said. I'd have brought him a load of scrap paper if I'd known in advance that's what they wanted to do.

[by the way, it may seem like I'm being quite condescending towards the company and people involved, as if I'm some sort of superior being with my doctorate, mocking the intellectual proles who have to make a living in the commercial sector. I assure you that is not the case, my scorn is undeniably deserved, as will become clear]

He asked how I felt about the company and position they were offering. I felt 'OK', seeing as I was still unsure what they were on about. Asked how soon I could come back for a second interview/observation day, to 'see how the company operates and were you'd fit in', I told them the following week, already having prior commitments for the rest of that week. Apparently, this was too long, they were looking to hire people right away. I conceded this and apologised for wasting their time, and left.

When I got home, there was an email waiting for me, telling me that they had been very impressed with my interview and wanted to invite me to an observation day in 2 days time. This was followed by another email saying that they had rearranged the day to the following Monday in order to suit my schedule, but would be unable to change it again. Not bad for a 20 minute walk, I thought.

I was reluctant to go spend an entire day at this weird company, but as my wife said, "what have I got to lose?"

I really need to stop assuming questions like this are rhetorical.

The email explained that the day would be spent shadowing other members of the company as they go about a typical day, so I could learn the ropes, so to speak. I'd been assured that they didn't do cold-calling (something I could never do, I genuinely balk at the thought of it), they only deal with big corporations, and they operate at a number of levels. I assumed this day would be spent travelling round the various offices, seeing what's what and who goes where etc. I was advised to wear comfortable shoes as I'd be on my feet all day, which makes sense.

So, I arrived at the office again, in my suit and shoes. I had to fill in another form (I guess they lost the last one), and was eventually introduced to the manager on duty; Mitch.

Mitch was as Mitch sounds; every cliché of the slick marketing manager you could think of. Custom made suit, highlights, false tan, overbearing bonhomie, a tendency to speak very loudly in corporate jargon. Needless to say, I did not take an instant liking to him. My friend Dave puts it best, when he says you just known Mitch is the sort of guy who uses his own name as a verb. As in "You just got Mitch-slapped!" when he beats someone in a drinking game or pissing contest, or some other meaningless display of macho prowess. Mitch introduced me to the guy who would be showing me around all day, who wasn't objectionable enough to warrant naming here, so let's call him Phil. Mitch said the following.

MITCH: "Hi Dean mate, this is Phil, he'll be showing you around today. The good news is, we're looking to employ 3 people by the end of the day. The bad news is, we already have 15 guys out in the field, so you'll have to pull all the stops out if you want to impress me today"

Unfortunately, I didn't really feel the need to impress Mitch. I'd met him 30 seconds previous, and had already thought of about a dozen ways in which he could meet his untimely demise. Arguably, this is impressive, but I doubt he'd have seen it that way.

So, Phil leads me out of Mitch's office, out of the reception area, toward a nearby bus stop where we're picked up in a car by 3 other marketers, then driven out of Cardiff for a 40 minute journey, and dropped off somewhere. Where? No idea, somewhere I've never been at any rate. Apparently, this is the territory Phil has to cover. And I have to follow him.

Remember when they said they didn't do cold calling? They don't. They do cold-knocking. My observation day was basically following a guy as he went door to door, trying to get complete strangers (in their own homes) to sign up to a different internet provider. I won't say which provider, but it rhymes with 'balk balk' (appropriately enough).

This was unpleasant for many reasons. I hate bothering people, I hate invading the privacy of others, I loathe the whole pressure sales thing, I hate the thought of having to talk about the merits of a major corporation as if I genuinely believe them, I resent wandering around unknown housing estates in winter in the freezing cold for 6 hours (I found out what we were doing and how long we'd spend there once we arrived, of course, they didn't think I needed to know beforehand so didn't have a coat). These were all negatives about the situation as I saw it.

However, this came to a head when, faced with a disabled man in his own home who claimed he hadn't heard of 'Balk balk', Phil says 'you must have, they sponsor the X Factor". Disabled man said he didn't watch that sort of thing. Phil told him he should because 'it's really good'. He then turned to me and said 'isn't it!', expecting confirmation.

As someone who has handled corpses for a living, I can say with certainty that there are many things I'm willing to do for money. Lying to the face of an innocent disabled man in his own home on behalf of Simon Cowell is not one of them. Poor disabled man jumped on this clear break in the ranks and pointed out that I didn't like it, so it must be no good. Phil responded by saying it's worth watching for the early rounds, where they show all the 'mental people' who can't sing, and it's a big laugh.

I'm not a sales expert myself, but even overlooking the major ethical concerns of that view, is bragging about how you like to mock the possibly-handicapped really a good way to win over a disabled person? Disabled person felt the same, and we were eventually ordered to leave his property. Rightly so.

At this point, Phil must have realised that my heart really wasn't in this job which I didn't have and was deceived into doing. He must have assumed it was because I felt it was beneath me (a fair assessment, I feel it's beneath anyone with a conscience). He decides to explain to me why it was a necessary task, through the medium of what he called 'the restaurant story'. Here is the genuine conversation that ensued.

PHIL: You know why everyone has to start at the bottom level, don't you?

ME: I can guess...

PHIL: It's because of the restaurant story.

ME: The restaurant story?

PHIL: OK, so, I own a restaurant.

ME: Really? OK... well done.

PHIL: No, in the story. I own a restaurant.

ME: Ah.

PHIL: I own a restaurant. It's really successful, it makes a million pounds a month.

ME: Wow. You ever think about franchising that out?

PHIL: No, it's just one restaurant, it makes millions.

ME: ...OK Heston, go on.

PHIL: SO, I make so much money, I realise I don't need to work there any more, I decide to go on holiday and hire a manager to run it for me, which is you. I give you the job of manager, how much do you think I'm paying you?

ME: Well, a first time manager, but in a high profit business, I'd guess £30,000 to start off with?

PHIL: No, £100,000!

ME: ...well, if you insist. I must be a good negotiator, yeah?

PHIL: Anyway, I go away on holiday, it's your first day. First thing, one of the kitchen staff comes in and says they can't find the washing powder. What do you do?

ME: Well, look for it I suppose. It'll probably be under the sink, or maybe in one of the stock rooms. Is it delivered in the middle of the day? I mean if it's first thing, we can't have got many dishes yet.

PHIL: ... no. See, thing is, you don't know. You haven't worked in the kitchens, so you don't know where things are.

ME: Well... if I'm managing the place I'd probably have a good look around before I start, I can't just turn up and wing it.

PHIL: Yeah, but, you don't know. And then people are coming in asking you where the washing powder is and the dishes are piling up. There's nothing you could do.

ME: Well, if I'm on £100,000 I'd send someone out to buy some. They could get two lots, I won't mind, I can afford it.

PHIL: No, you can't do that.

ME: Why not?

PHIL: Because you don't do that.

ME: Um...

PHIL: So then later on, a waiter comes in and says a customer has a complaint. What do you do?

ME: Depends, what's the complaint?

PHIL: No, it's just a complaint, it's not about anything.

ME: How can you have a complaint that isn't about something? I don't think you can logically have a generic complaint. Every complaint is about something.

PHIL: Well, this one isn't, what do you do?

ME: I have no idea, this isn't a logical problem.

PHIL: Thing is see, you can't do this job because you haven't done the job where you have to deal with complaints.

ME: Isn't that the manager's job?

PHIL: Yeah.

ME: But I am the manager, aren't I?

PHIL: Yeah.

ME: So I need to be the manager before I can be the manager?

PHIL: Exactly.

ME: Uh...

PHIL: So I come back from holiday and find you've not done the job properly. You've lost me £70,000, you're not experienced enough to be a manager.

ME: Well, I would have tried to tell you that in the interview...

PHIL: So anyway, I fire you, but you say you really need a job, so I agree to put you to work in the kitchens, and then you can work your way back up properly.

ME: So... I've gone from £100,000 manager to minimum wage pot washer in the space of a day?

PHIL: Yeah, because you didn't start at the bottom.

ME: But I have worked as kitchen staff before.

PHIL: Yeah, but not in this restaurant.

ME: So, everyone who's a manager in this restaurant used to wash dishes when they started.

PHIL: Exactly.

ME: So... how did it first start? You can't have a million pound restaurant staffed with just dishwashers.

PHIL: No, well, obviously I didn't start in the kitchens when I set it up.

ME: But you know where the washing powder is?

PHIL: Obviously, I'm the manager.

ME: ...

At this point, I decided that was enough for me, and said I wouldn't want to take the job even if it was offered to me. Phil, meaning well I think, offered to take me through the career path I could take. Turns out, if I did get the job, I would be able earn up to £150 a month! Until I hit my sales quota, at which point my monthly wage would increase by over 150%! Wooo! At one point he even used the dreaded C-word (commission)

Rather than wait until 9pm for the prearranged pick-up (prearranged without my involvement, of course), I decided to make my own way home. After walking randomly for 10 minutes, I remembered that I didn't have any idea where I was in relation to my home. So I had to take several busses, ask direction many times and make my way to the nearest train station, all while wandering in the freezing cold in my stylish but thin suit.

As I was sat on the train coming back, contemplating the wreckage of my potential career, realising that my tendency to apply rational thought and logic was not only off-putting to many people but actually made me less employable overall, and with no hint of opportunities in sight, that's when I finally came to a sudden realisation.

You don't use washing powder to wash dishes, you use washing up liquid! Who the hell uses washing powder to clean pots? This guy insists that he runs a million pound restaurant and he can tell the difference between powder and liquid? Maybe he is Heston Blumenthal?

"Here's the soup of the day, would you like a slice?"

Tit

email: humourology (at) live.co.uk

Twitter: @garwboy