[Ed: This post will make much more sense to you if you've ever worked for a large, inflexible corporation or hierarchal entity in which a bunch of incompetent, juvenile, clannish doods get to ruin everything, blame you for it, make you do all the work, and take all the credit when things do go right. But it's honestly not meant to be bitter retaliation about anything specifically personal or recent; I'm truly glad not to be part of that world anymore and I'm just waxing meta.]

Back during the dark days of the ex, he and I had a conversation about a frustrating moment he'd had at work that day. Blabbity blabbity, "...and why does he have to be such an asshole about it?" he bitched. He was speaking about his 'regional manager,' from the perspective of being the store manager most directly under Mr. Asshole. I said, "Because they always are. They have to be. The franchise requires it."

At the time, I was specifically speaking of the large corporation they both worked for, and the business model their company employed. Over the years, I've come to think of a lot of politicians and members of the media, and others, in similar ways. Waxing meta, blogger that I am, I think of the people we find ourselves talking about, the people who are making decisions for us "in our best interest" but so often against our will, as members of The Franchise. A sort of super-octopus of power and control that mimics/constructs a set of behaviors and relationships common to a smaller corporate specific.

Getting back to the asshole regional guy, it's not a coincidence that he was a rock ribbed Republican. White guy, exurban dweller, libertarian silliness clouding his occasional and normally laughable attempt a political philosophizing, cut right from the Contract on America cloth. Mammon was his god, if his wife did go to the family church now and again. Life was on the road, but only until he proved himself enough- normally by beating down local managers and exhorting them to follow the corporate manual of how best to beat the slaves into squeezing more blood from stones. He dreamed of eventually advancing into the upper ranks of management, free to live a life of luxe consumerism and free from all responsibility. Sports and cheeserock were his "culture;" infidelity, naked ambition/greed, and deceit his moral values. This being the Clinton years, I can only guess at his racism, but his sexism was always plain. Like I said, he was a Republican.

So speaking of today's politicians and media celebrities, I'm reminded of how addicted they are to the concepts embedded in most franchise environments, and the manner in which they force their values and ideas upon all of us. We're always saying they're unimaginative and usually have no more than one playbook, and I think that's been made obviously true by the McCain campaign, um, "strategy." And the Unity nonsense. But anyway, what are the Franchise concepts and how are they similar to those in the media/political universe? Or useful? (and they probably aren't to anyone but me). Bluntly: I think America has a hollow center, a rot in the underbelly, and part of the reason I think this way is because I've directly experienced Franchise values large and small. There is a corruption, a bankruptcy to modern "bipartisan" or "bushian" conservatism. It reaches beyond the administration, and indeed, beyond politicians and Villagers themselves.

Sticking to over-generalized metaphor and narrative, the most obvious feature in the Franchise is rigid hierarchy. We've got our CEO preznit, and his CEO buddies, sitting high above the lands where rule of law or personal accountability apply. The company tanked? Oh well, have a multimillion dollar golden parachute, and don't lose any sleep over the fact that your idiot 'leadership' cost thousands their jobs and stockholders billions. No one seems to be able to do anything about these people, or get rid of them. They play an exclusive and petty game of musical chairs to the tune of the Emperor Has No Clothes, and above all we're told to clap harder at the beauty and majesty of their dance.

The Franchise also has Aspirants, Princes and XOs who direct enforcers and do the hard work of drafting policy and fellating the CEO class in grudging and jealous homage. They wait ready with knives, but enjoy filling their hours creating documents and instruments of torture, awaiting the moment to prove they understand "when you strike the king, be sure to kill him." They are ruthless with each other, but if they buck can ever be said to stop anywhere, it is with this class. Like Ritser Brugel,* they have a sadistic nature and burning hatred of DFH "weakness" and intellectualism. It's no accident that a lot of in-Closet games are played by this cohort, either.

Below these first two levels there are a jumble of sycophants, wannabes, prostitutes and madams, Uncle Toms, Betas and bottoms, fighting with each other and with those outside the Franchise to prove their willingness to please their superiors, and for the rare opportunity to apply for the highest levels. They seldom get to do so, but awareness of the near impossibility of moving further up is cancelled out by the mandatory suspension of disbelief that is required for all lesser members, habituated into them regardless of their ability to articulate their immobility. The function of this level is to create 'buzz,' 'noise;' to disrupt the actions of non-Franchisees; to get hands dirty in the stead of their superiors and to distract the rabble with compelling Kabuki. They translate their Masters' ideas and reconstitute them in such a way that those who are made to suffer for them believe they are receiving some benefit in return. In this last they are not always successful; one does not always believe one is eating the most wonderful piece of steak in the world just because the menu exclaims it to be in the corporate steakhouse menu. But dayum! /channels/ If you'd only been at the Madison Ave conference meeting room when that Plan was created! The Sound and the Fury! Burger Kings will open in Uganda, and the South Shall Rise Again, you betcha! Now look at my Ivy MBA in aspic, you twit.

The Franchise is a parasite, and sits atop the living body of we they think of as 'the rubes.' We are here for them to suck upon, but they recognize a certain degree of massaging has to go on simultaneously, or we'll swat at them. "Look at this beautiful naked woman lolling about a poisonous product you simply must buy! Aren't you happy and lucky to be able to give us your cash for it?" The Franchise is also fond of violent coercion; it is not above knocking off the mom and pop gas station across the street by sustaining money-losing prices at its own pumps for a summer. Deep pockets and amorality combine with parasitism, and produce all the "heads I win, tails you lose" logic of corporate consumerism. It's of note that massive amounts of money are required to sustain the relationship between the Franchise and the Little People. The biggest cash-eater, in the end, is always marketing/propaganda/information control. Well, other than the military arm, that is.

The Franchise prides itself on its cozy relationship with military power. Not to go all foily, but think Confessions of an Economic Hitman. Franchise holders have always had a homoerotic lurv for Hot Military Studs and vice versa. Together they made Central America Safe for United Fruit, and doggoneit they can do the same when it comes to energy products. Indeed, the fact that the Franchise extends well outside the Village marches is notable. Here in PB2.0 we concern ourselves with different issues than what dominates the Village; yet we're both subject to Franchise holders and participants, no matter what choices we make. Or, I guess I missed that federally funded program to make $40K eco-cars and $20K of wind/solar tech available to the working poor. What, there are no "low cost" options for those technologies? I'm shocked, shocked I tell you...

The Franchise is not the same as the Village, but most Villagers are members of the Franchise. Speaking of the military again, it's just like how there are politically motivated military officers, but they sleep with NYT 'reporters,' and are not in fact one and the same person. Still, they both serve, and understand that they do, the Franchise. The Village is the place where the Franchise displays its policy, creates narrative, and offers mid-level participants the chance to try out different hats as they decide on career paths(Lobbyist, elected official, lawgiver, ho, money handler). Sometimes, a mid-level manager will be posted in the Flatlands, and given a chance to prove his worthiness for a while before he's brought into to play in the big leagues at urban mecca-located HQ. I think of the Village as the half-real, half-constructed, space in which Franchise people operate in comfort, among themselves and free to use only their own language. Having spent some time there, I am reminded of how easily, and quickly, everyone is able to speak in the local tongue. It's an enviable construct, in truth. I wish progressives could learn from it, but I suppose doing so leads to things like the Cultural Revolution and that's why we try to avoid Going There.

Blah, this is much longer than I meant it to be. I just have found the term, in the context of my experience, useful and helpful as I think about relationships and concentrations of power. I'm one of those dumb people who isn't afraid to walk right up to the XO or VP at the annual "let the rabble mingle with Us for one night" parties; I've failed to know my place enough times to feel confident that basically, Franchise/franchise leadership isn't anything to fear or hold in awe. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the 'corporate manual' isn't ever written by anyone who knows what makes actual money for the business. And it chaps my ass, I'll confess, and makes me the not-capitalist I am today. Other people will call it the old boys network, and that's fine too, although today's Franchise is filled in the lower level with not-Old Boy people (a good, sort of). But what I hate most about it is the way it's enshrined being lazy, personified by the insult of the training manual sessions. "Eat shit and do it with a smile, you peon! I know what works and you'll do everything I can coerce you to do to prove that! Especially since I don't know what works, and your job is at stake shuffling the deck chairs trying to sustain the mythology."

Script, act, or corporate values statement: it's still not "reality." My only concern is how long it's going to take to have a consensus, and agree that the ponzi scheme that is the Franchise isn't worth playing and doesn't work. It's not like, at this point, we don't have oodles and oodles of proof, and more importantly, if people understood how (numerically) limited the Franchise really is, they wouldn't fear it at all. "Sorry, Sir. The locks have been changed. You can be on your way now, your services are no longer needed." Hell, they do it to us all the time, isn't it time to return the favor?

* Thank you, Vernor Vinge.

...and if this post has anything like a point, it's this: Because the Franchise is larger than the Village, and indeed directs the Village in composition and output, the Franchise is to be understood as independent of party. We call them "Blue Dogs" or "Oborg" or even "PUMAs," but in truth what they are is the Franchise's way of responding to shifts in the consumerist Zeitgeist. Consumerism requires rebranding, and as a meta-corporate/marketing entity, among other things, the Franchise understands this fact and responds accordingly. Taco Bell has offered countless "new" products each summer, that are essentailly the same combination of 'meat,' cheese, sauce and corn byproduct. It's fascinating, but still made up of D-Grade beef, you know?