![]() ![]() The slacker is a noble savage in an overworked world. Slack is a backlash against the tyranny of Time Clockdom, the drudgery of the daily grind and, worst of all, the dehumanizing rut of normalcy that comes with it. There's the weekly radio show, the film, the book and, in one of the trendiest signs of social groupings, a presence on the Internet global computer network - all of it aimed at the downwardly mobile devotees of Slack. You have to have the proper mental attitude. He's indulging in Slack, a philosophical position that holds that a life spent doing nothing is worthy - and perfectly preferable to the same old 9-to-5. He's on permanent leave from the work-a-day world. He couldn't care less about the modest rewards of the working man or the serious business of Washington statecraft. It's springtime, reason enough to slack off, to do whatever suits him, tossing the Frisbee or flip-kicking the hacky-sack bag or just slacking off with the colorfully Spandexed bike messengers. ![]() He just sits there in Dupont Circle, ignoring the boss man, proudly vegetating in a state of unabashed Slack. IT'S a word that rolls off the tongue and cracks like a whip, as if to say: "Get up, slacker! Get back to work, slacker!" But the slacker doesn't move. "Idleness, which does not consist in doing nothing, has as good a right to state its position as industry itself." - Robert Louis Stevenson, "Apology for Idlers" ![]()
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