Generally and I really mean specifically if you wear a business suit my first instinct is to wonder What is wrong with you and What are you hiding or What bad decision at what point in life lead you to be in this suit and Why is a tie around your neck? What happened to make you conform to a matching pants and jacket set-up and be Whatever SomeThing Else Wanted You to Be, or How bad did your parents mess up, or how badly were you informed, or lacked the imagination to do something different, like wear non-suits and speak non-suit words? Where did you go wrong? What’s the matter? Strike that, don’t tell me. Useful imaginations with penetrating insights don’t come wrapped up in suits&ties. Your uniformity frightens me, your grin and smile and fierce looks happy in its stress and the monstrous new navel that is your mobile phone with its grating pay-attention-to-me ring tones and your damn the torpedoes career plans. I don’t know what Need in your Search to Satisfy is embedded in wearing a suit, and I don’t know who or how many others you are trying to emulate because it’s like you don’t want to be who could have been — you know like who knows — something more like a real you but it all seems like you want to be who this suit will let you be as you hope hope hope people will think you are someone worth a conformist’s inch of respect or awe. Your conforming clothes set you up as one of the numerous others doing similar jobs that allows you to say, I am like everyone else, wearing my suit, my tie, and that is a dulling comfort. You terrify in your need not to exist on your own terms. Are you a horror show of conventional small-existence, anonymous within those slave’s constraints, dressing for others of your ilk with Behaviors custom-made by one-size-fits-all business model. Who WHo WHO wears suits and says it is good for the soul? You lead with your wallet and meet the expectations of conglomerates. You seem to be the Other, but an empty Other. And that frightens me. The minor Terrorism of the shriveled soul. The opposite of God or the devil. You are the purgatory of identity. Your illness bleeds throughout the world, and it bleeds the world.