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
Monday, January 18, 2016
MYSTERY DEATH OF WHEELCHAIR
The Federal Government outsourced most of its
work to the Dresden-Solliday Corporation, but I
didn't see any change, at least in my unfolding
experience that day.
Runaround then, runaround now.
After the fifth office, a round man, silky gray,
coiffed, manicured, DS-USA badge containing
tiny depictions of American flags.
"Are you the person looking for Bellsome Narraway?"
Said I was.
“May I ask the nature of your inquiry?”
“Personal.”
“Well this is a Dresden-Solliday US Government
Installation. It is therefore a workplace. According
to USDS regulations...!”
I told him Mr Narraway was homeless. And I
had evidence that he lived and worked there.
“That's impossible! Oh I'm so horribly horribly busy!
But...I'm authorized to make an exception. Tomorrow.
You're to stay at DSUS Hilton tonight as our guest.
It's quite lovely.”
He evidently held memories of its restaurant meals.
No complaints. And the next mid morning a very
luxurious bus appeared. The driver was strapped in
with his wheelchair and was quite jolly.
Appearing. He never spoke.
Mozart's The Abduction From the Seraglio played,
with interweaving patriotic songs.
We spend an hour negotiating the potholes of a rusty
old refinery.
I’m the only passenger, though iPads fall down at
every seat.
Mine says. Welcome to the Dresden-Solliday USA
Corporation. Please help us evaluate our service.
Only one question: Driver was a) Unfailingly
Helpful...all the other responses are ghosted out,
so I naturally check a.
When I do, the iPads, including mine, suck back
into the ceiling.
And the bus stops, the driver rolling off, an immense
submarine sandwich in his lap.
At the parking lot, and my car.
So I leave.
Unfortunately, the driver, searching for a decent
spot to eat his monster sandwich, gets lost in the lot’s
furthest reaches.
Waylaid then by a quartet of starving juveniles, who
incorporate him in their play.
All the while inhaling the ripped-apart sandwich, they
knock over the wheelchair several times, stealing its battery.
Abandon him, and chair, pre-natal in a muddy area of soda
cans, some glinting from scrub bushes.
Couldn't possibly crawl out of such terrain.
A cell left to him, but they have taken its battery also.
I become the number one suspect in MYSTERY DEATH
OF WHEELCHAIR–-the news-sites omit the victim's name,
but no one had taken mine either. The Hilton registered
me as Teddy Roosevelt, their little joke.
Law Enforcement finds me anyway, and a bureaucratic
nightmare...does not begin.
They take my statement in my kitchen, and assure me
that’s the end of it.
Though one political party later wants me to testify
anonymously of the vicious incompetence of the other.
I refuse. Not partial to the newly-favored Bag On the
Head look. Even the Ralph Lauren’s.
Labels: bureaucracy, Capitalism, government, juvenile delinquent, outsourcing, Ralph Lauren, wheelchair
Friday, March 30, 2012
Two Political Wags Tackle the Vicious
-Then we agree that the present atmosphere
couldn't be much worse?
-Lincoln said we should rely on our better angels.
-Do they still exist?
-Bought out by corporatists and outsourced.
-Where to?
-What's the difference? Some place where no
self-respecting dog'd take a shit.
-And I was pondering a vacation there with the
ball and chain and little monsters.
-One can be unhappy anywhere, though
I still prefer a location where you don't see
dog shit to the horizon.
-I thought you said...
-I said self-respecting dogs. Like us.
-Then we agree that the present atmosphere
couldn't be much worse?
-Lincoln said we should rely on our better angels.
-Do they still exist?
-Bought out by corporatists and outsourced.
-Where to?
-What's the difference? Some place where no
self-respecting dog'd take a shit.
-And I was pondering a vacation there with the
ball and chain and little monsters.
-One can be unhappy anywhere, though
I still prefer a location where you don't see
dog shit to the horizon.
-I thought you said...
-I said self-respecting dogs. Like us.
Labels: Lincoln, outsourcing, poisonous atmosphere
Thursday, August 25, 2011
S&G
“I'm not running the Sodom and Gomorrah of Drapery Hardware!” maintained Mr Y to the staunch Baptist of
the board. She insisted on Christian Counseling,
followed by the illicit couple imploring forgiveness
of mates.
Nothing was done, and said couple went on to
other sinners in the firm.
Then, in a decision more greedy than carnal, the manufacturing was outsourced to Haiti.
There affairs would be darker and French-
speaking, thus not likely to filter back.
“I'm not running the Sodom and Gomorrah of Drapery Hardware!” maintained Mr Y to the staunch Baptist of
the board. She insisted on Christian Counseling,
followed by the illicit couple imploring forgiveness
of mates.
Nothing was done, and said couple went on to
other sinners in the firm.
Then, in a decision more greedy than carnal, the manufacturing was outsourced to Haiti.
There affairs would be darker and French-
speaking, thus not likely to filter back.
Labels: affair, outsourcing
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Industrialist
-That hole up there died twenty years ago but nobody told em.
-And our operation there?
-Phasing out. Skeleton crew now.
-As the India factory grows?
-That's the formula for a brief period.
-Then?
-We raze the buildings on the beautiful Hudson! Improve the view for the time being.
-Whoa! Historic?
-They never got round to designating. Tough-ski shits-ski!
Hey we already sold the machinery to a startup in India!
-Helping a competitor?
-Not really. Our machines in India will come here...
along with the workforce.
-And into a brand new building?
-What else?
-That's what I wanna know: What else?
-India Town! Like a little Disney thing to color up the drab Hudson burg!
-Make it easy to navigate the river with all that curry stink!
-Never thought of that. Hey they bring Grandma and Grandpa
who subsist on a few beans and a handful of rice.
Instead of farting all day, let's put em to use in India Town!
Dress ‘em in gorgeous rags. That armpit’ll leap to life up there!
-It's the American Dream!
-In a way, it is!
-You'll need beggars to make it really Indian. May I suggest Americans?
-Wouldn't be genuine.
-That hole up there died twenty years ago but nobody told em.
-And our operation there?
-Phasing out. Skeleton crew now.
-As the India factory grows?
-That's the formula for a brief period.
-Then?
-We raze the buildings on the beautiful Hudson! Improve the view for the time being.
-Whoa! Historic?
-They never got round to designating. Tough-ski shits-ski!
Hey we already sold the machinery to a startup in India!
-Helping a competitor?
-Not really. Our machines in India will come here...
along with the workforce.
-And into a brand new building?
-What else?
-That's what I wanna know: What else?
-India Town! Like a little Disney thing to color up the drab Hudson burg!
-Make it easy to navigate the river with all that curry stink!
-Never thought of that. Hey they bring Grandma and Grandpa
who subsist on a few beans and a handful of rice.
Instead of farting all day, let's put em to use in India Town!
Dress ‘em in gorgeous rags. That armpit’ll leap to life up there!
-It's the American Dream!
-In a way, it is!
-You'll need beggars to make it really Indian. May I suggest Americans?
-Wouldn't be genuine.
Labels: Hudson, India, outsourcing
Friday, March 11, 2011
Wink-Wink Nudge-Nudge + Social Analysis
at the Triply Très Exclusive _____ Bay Club
“And jump down Lefty’s throat
when he says we don’t pay taxes!
We lay out our fair share, no?
George! Freshen the Congressman’s drink!
Yeah, the class warriors desire the class war
that they’ve already lost. Democrats and
ACLU are trying to cast medals for them,
and that’s harmless enough-–pitiful really.
Most are sad sacks, actually,
and yet we must all of us help
them save face after each rout.
They’ll catch on when we
ship the remaining jobs out.
But that won’t stop the whimpers.
What will? Learning to do
with less. Why George’ll tell
you: We had our own little budget
crunch here and had to knock off
for a month those lovely appetizers
we’re inhaling right now.
Can’t stop!
Hey, George, any
calories in these
hors de ovaries?
I always ask the same question
and he always answers ‘Not a one!’
Sweetheart of a guy!”
Labels: outsourcing, Republican, taxes, wealth
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Moving To China
-Project complete when Mr H in other chair sign.
But is what you call crank. And the outspoken.
-Good! I'm tired of going round and round
Robin Hood's Barn.
-I no translate Robin Hood, his barn.
-He'll get it from the round and round.
-Mr T has worry, environment. The many laws you broken.
-Hey! You can't put all your money in sucking out the toxins.
There's a risk in the process as there is everywhere in Capitalism.
-He's says you leave states after poison American worker,
and now want poison Chinese!
-I visit the factory often. Take a chance like everyone.
There are risks as I say! But everything gets overblown
when Democrats in.
-But he says now--I think change the mind--we have
the many workers.
-That's the spirit! Sounds like Confucius.
-He pleased by Confucius!
-All right then! Rock n’ Roll! Will that translate?
-Perfect!
-Project complete when Mr H in other chair sign.
But is what you call crank. And the outspoken.
-Good! I'm tired of going round and round
Robin Hood's Barn.
-I no translate Robin Hood, his barn.
-He'll get it from the round and round.
-Mr T has worry, environment. The many laws you broken.
-Hey! You can't put all your money in sucking out the toxins.
There's a risk in the process as there is everywhere in Capitalism.
-He's says you leave states after poison American worker,
and now want poison Chinese!
-I visit the factory often. Take a chance like everyone.
There are risks as I say! But everything gets overblown
when Democrats in.
-But he says now--I think change the mind--we have
the many workers.
-That's the spirit! Sounds like Confucius.
-He pleased by Confucius!
-All right then! Rock n’ Roll! Will that translate?
-Perfect!
Labels: Annals of Capitalism, China, outsourcing
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Rocco and Bitter Bart
ROCCO
So how's it goin’, Bart?
BB
Same-o same-o. Just bought a shitbox car to get me to my
shitbox job--which I'm suppose to be grateful for.
ROCCO
You mean you're FREE to be grateful for. Such freedom, according to the Right, being a gift from God.
BB
Yeah, Free to be fucked by The Man. Like, continuously.
ROCCO
Hey, you filled out the Four Freedoms with that last one! Where's Norman Rockwell when you need him?
BB
Outsourced, so the boss's whore can eat butter creams.
Rocco reports on his short meetings in South Philadelphia.
ROCCO
So how's it goin’, Bart?
BB
Same-o same-o. Just bought a shitbox car to get me to my
shitbox job--which I'm suppose to be grateful for.
ROCCO
You mean you're FREE to be grateful for. Such freedom, according to the Right, being a gift from God.
BB
Yeah, Free to be fucked by The Man. Like, continuously.
ROCCO
Hey, you filled out the Four Freedoms with that last one! Where's Norman Rockwell when you need him?
BB
Outsourced, so the boss's whore can eat butter creams.
Rocco reports on his short meetings in South Philadelphia.
Labels: Norman Rockwell, outsourcing, Rocco, South Philadelphia
