Internship: noun. Contemporary synonymous for « consented slavery », from the old French word « servage » that refers to the punishment that once occurred on Middle-Age peasants who were then forced to obey every single command / order from their Lord and Master, all this for a predetermined duration.
Kedgers, listen up. You wouldn’t find this definition in a dictionary nor in an advertising campaign. I bet you have been told that internships are “A recruiter’s first criteria, enlightening experiences or even the take-off of your future career”. Sigh. Right now, most of my comrades have sold their bodies to the Devil (souls being already engaged in mortgage in order to pay for the tuition) and I had to enter by myself in the work world, a timeless dive in a world where the law isn’t “Work more to earn more” but rather “Do as I say not as I do”.
Coffee vending machines, Excel sheets, printers and laptops, such are the tools of your slavery, just like the hoe your great granddad used to swing so cheerfully. Under the pretexts of “Learning”, “gaining experience” or even “discovering”, you will be forced to labor sometimes over the legal limits (You’re an intern, not an employee, employment laws do not apply to you!). A tear will roll down your face when you’ll remember the moral prostitution you had to endure to reach this place. Then you’ll get to work.
Because once the scholar bounds will be ripped off, you will be alone. To face your destiny. To be more accurate, you’ll be alone facing that telephone you have to use in order to bring your company a contract worth 100 pints in the town’s most expensive club. Of course, you’ll only see that money pass by when you’ll fill in the payment form. And at one moment, your eyes gone red from tears and blackened from your supervisor’s punches in your nose will read your very own name instead of the one of your pimp company, you will give up.
Just like during every depression, you will face many doubts : “Should I have gone to class?”, “Should I have bought this bus ticket?”, “Shouldn’t I have followed my childhood dream and become a professional curling player?”. Your boss will break upon these metaphysical questions by calling your name. Then, you will crush your poor hand-rolled cigarette in an ashtray that will be worth 6 months of your salary.
Such a cruel depiction, right? Thus, it is alone that you will think about vengeance, suicide or even media induced melodrama. Hey, that’s the idea, what don’t we bring all this up to the medias so they can talk about it on TV and make things change? Two things need to be said here : first, if you still believe that medias can change anything (HI FOXNEWS) you do have much more to learn, I suggest you read again the previous editions of Captain Jack. And secondly, and that shall by my final advise, “YOU’RE AN INTERN, SO SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!”.