Tuesday, October 16, 2018
Collective Acts
Greta knows that everybody
at work is laughing at her,
except Fuzzy.
“You’re paranoid!” he tells her.
But, in an act of collective cruelty,
they were.
Then, in an act of management cruelty,
all axed save Greta and Fuzzy.
They’re training the replacements.
Fuzzy calls them The Low IQ Gang.
After two months, in an act of
Headquarters’ Cruelty, they send
one of their cherished as Supervisor.
Mrs Suspicion.
“Will the Merry-Go-Round ever
lose its bizarre power?” asks Greta,
a month in.
“Never!” laughs Fuzzy
Labels: management, management incompetence, work, work circularity, work cruelty
Monday, March 13, 2017
The Career
Company in cheerleading mode way back.
Before-work meetings. Lusty.
He was an intern then, and when they all
turned to him, screaming “Are you on board?”
he answered at the top of his resilient lungs.
“One hundred fifty melon percent!”
Melon for million, of course. Mis-speak.
But, Melon his name from then on.
His function has always been, from that moment,
a sort of mascot for whatever HR insanity
management promoted.
At any rate, Retirement finally arrives, and the most
senior VP almost cancels his flights for Melon’s Dinner.
But warned by Legal not to attend, because subpoenas
will ruin his good time.
Melon’s wife wisecracks that she’s ecstatic he’s almost free.
“From ingrates and crooks!”
The FBI assures him he is not a target.
They, too, didn’t take him seriously.
“Well,” he later remarks to the gray dude fashioning the bow
tie in the mirror. “It’s a Wrap!”
Labels: boosting, business, business career, business crooks, cheerleading, HR.Human Resources, management, mascot
Wednesday, September 07, 2016
Acting the Parts
-Let us speak of Management Models!
-Okay, the supposed or the real?
-1 first.
-Agile. Aggressive. Creative. Even Brilliant!
-And the real? Or 2?
-Sucking ass continuously.
-While acting 1?
-Academy Award!
-That explains the haunting sound I’ve encountered in the Corridors of Greatness.
-Will never leave your ears.
-Midst the Cube Farms of...!
-That’s enough.
Labels: acting in business, attitude, cube farm, jargon, management, management models, models, office sarcasm, sarcasm
Saturday, February 06, 2016
A Short History of American Manufacturing
“Do it THIS vay!” insisted the Swede,
so Chuckie and I did. For years.
Then the Swede died and his brother
came for his tools.
We quarreled then. Chuckie stood
with the dead Swede, and I for myself.
So I did it my way, and Chuckie, the Swede's.
It got ugly. And silly. So much so that
we expected Management to intervene.
They didn't because they didn't care.
The products shipped as they were.
But they eventually made a decision!
To outsource the manufacturing to a
robotic factory in Mexico.
But Chuckie and I weren't out. We both
play the Swede in our display at Industry
World.
Have gotten a bit famous. Me on TV, and he on
Facebook and other social media.
The robots make absolute crap.
So much so that management has decided
to give the products away, and has installed
a monster service facility in our old factory here.
That way the customer ends up paying much more.
The Required Service Contract a Master Gouge!
Admired world-wide.
Chuckie and I laugh about how our lives have
turned into lies.
The Swede’s brother put up his tools on Ebay
so we bought them for the act.
“No Biz like Show etc!” twitters Chuckie to.
his thousands of followers!
But I’m not jealous, since my agent has just
nailed me down the role of Pepsi Grandfather.
Labels: Ebay, Facebook, management, Mexico, outsourcing, Pepsi, robot, social media, TV, work
Sunday, September 13, 2015
A Natural Leader
Murph’s Dad wouldn’t go into Vistas of Tomorrow,
he being a flannel shirt guy while they dressed
for dinner, Country Club Style.
Till they couldn’t. Then, robots did it for them.
And took that time to medicate, also. Sliding the stuff up
the old ducks’ rectums.
This procedure they devised at a robots-only meeting.
Yeah, you read that right.
So, no more piecemeal nonsense! Mogs77 then sought out the
Medical Director and convinced him.
His larger, ongoing idea is a retirement home for robots, not the
usual scrapheap after fifty or so years.
He and his Executive Committee are fashioning a new human
leadership more attentive.
Labels: management, Medicine, retirement, retirement home, robots
Friday, November 22, 2013
The Sad Art of Being a Yes Man
CEO
“I don't want individuals who are right! Or wrong.
Both in embroidered shirts.
That's cats and dogs!
Only the team has to be right. Japanese understand this.
How about me? I'm always right!
Joking, but I'm my only critic mid the deafening
ass-kissing.”
Labels: CEO, Japanese, management, team, yes man
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Keening
Speeding Up To the Mark. Not.
-Report says I'm not keen enough.
-How do you get that, anywayz?
-Some are, in their hobbies.
-But at work?
-It's the atmosphere today. Management
is keen on discovering new ways of
screwing you!
-Even in the unionized states, the membership
finds themselves giving back what they fought
hard for.
-The Democrats don't like it, and stand around
deciding something perhaps to maybe sorta do.
-And the Republicans in unrestrained glee!
-Cuz wez learnin our place?
-Do'n hit me, Massa! I be keen! I be keen!
Labels: Democrats, givebacks, keen, management, Republicans, slave, work evaluation
Monday, November 04, 2013
Holding Few Cards
Small Factory
-The Old Man having crushed the Union in order to
enter Reactionary Heaven, we get Junior appointing a
Negotiating Committee of Management-Licking Toads.
-What have they negotiated away thus far?
-Half the vacation, half the medical, but only a third
of the wages.
-That last being the good news?
-There's more. Junior is leaving us to run
for Republican something or other.
-He fits perfectly into The Party of Endless
Fuck-around.
Labels: labor negotiation, management, medical, Republican, toady, vacation, wages
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Sandbagging, Revered American Tradition
Remembering my Dad's union, ITU, mostly linotypers,
Newspaper management dispatches a fresh Yale grad
to what they know will be a wild, raucous meeting,
& membership responds with shouts & screams, plus
an accomplished double-talker who commences
his questions clearly enough, but then mish-
mashes hilariously & at agonizing length.
“What? Excuse me?” sputters callow interpreter of
Plutocracy, furiously digging into his attache case.
Oh well, he’ll get chances to learn, including
this occasion, but, I suspect, remain a fool,
a prosperous one due to class, of course.
Labels: management, sandbaagging, Union
