I hate my job. Thank god. There is a vengeful pleasure in dreaming the demise of the things that oppress us. It opens up a whole field of imaginative riches. But what is the source of this perceived oppression? Why do we white collar workers love to hate our corporate jobs? The corporate workplace requires adherence to strict codes of behaviour which can be incredibly frustrating. But at the heart of our complaints is the wish to bite the hand that feeds us, to sever the dependence that threatens our freedom. But we keep up the 'daily grind' with hungry mouths open, because we believe, paradoxically, that this hand also holds our ticket to freedom: our brand-new iPod, the latest model SUV, an expensive art practice. We grudgingly give up generous portions of our lives and ourselves as a sacrifice to freedom, while imagining with pleasure how it all might crumble and disappear.
Centre for Contemporary Photography
404 George St, Fitzroy Victoria 3065, Australia
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Seven nights after dark