Oh man, it’s only Tuesday and I am filled with a severe blood lust for all my fellow cube dwellers. Between losing all my scrabulous games to the evil corporate overlords and being subjected to a 4 hour staff meeting I have the impulse control of boozed up celebutard.
I work at big, bloated non-profit organization that’s over-run by this touchy-feely doublespeak. Every one is very deliberate when they speak in front of group, making sure to never offend, to always use “We” versus “I” statements, and to never -EVER- just speak plainly and directly like you know, ADULTS. In 4 hours here’s how often these phrases were uttered
- “I’m going to pushback” or “Does any one have any pushback?”- 13 times – this is just a de-clawed way of asking for dissent. Its used to neutralize hostile emotions and make disagreement part of the “process”
- “…pick your brain” - 8 times - WORST. VISUAL. EVAR. If you want you can suckle from my eat of knowledge but under NO circumstances will you be “picking” at anything on in my body.
- “…I just want to piggy-back on what Joan said” - No, you want to hear the sound of your own voice echoing in the this torture chamber that is a meeting room! - 6 times
- “At the end of the day…” - 17 MOTHERFUCKING times! Since when do we set our goals to the diurnal patterns of the sun?! This is an empty phrase. It means nothing, it illustrates nothing. Its something that you say before you say what you believe to be the most important fact of a situation. WHY NOT JUST STATE THE IMPORTANT FACT OF THE SITUATION?!
I obviously ‘Cuiled‘ “most hated office phrases” and got a bizzare list out of the Guardian. Some of the shit that the Brits find repugnant has made it across the Atlantic, some others just sound like queer Narnia-speak.
There is no great way to end this post except to lament what all other lamented for eons: that clear speech is replaced by “long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink”.
brian picking. Read all about it: http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/06/30/080630fa_fact_gawande?currentPage=all
I’m sure lots of “strategizing” occurred during the 4 hour meeting. Can you give me an “assessment of the organizational capacity” for strategic thought?
I blame Wordsworth. That sunny son of a bitch.
I’m sorry Natasha. I had no idea you had it so bad. Time to go to the hound.
Pushback!? Fucking PUSHBACK!?!?!? What a bunch of infants. I hate these people.
Oh sorry. I’d like to offer pushback towards the usage of the term “pushback.” I feel it makes one appear to have the approximate maturity level of a small child; not that there is anything wrong with being small, children, or small children; I just feel that in this particular environment it is inappropriate to act like a small child. I’m sorry.
pound…that is.
My favorite is: “I just can’t wrap my head around it.” By the time I heard this cliche it was an old, half drunk, worn out hollywood reality t.v. whore. At first I really thought it was the shit, but you know, I dug the M.C. Hammer pants when they first came out. It was too fast, that one, and it was so good that it was very nearly said simultaneously after the first time. People are still using it, they’re hooked, and it has to stop. I’m not getting off alcohol and drugs until people stop doing this sort of office copy cat, unoriginal, cliche slinging shit like a bunch of monkeys. I will just be forced to put the pint of Canadian whiskey in the bottom drawer of my cubicle desk.
The meeting:
Anne (that bitch who always has a counterpoint):Well, see, when you try to do a warranty exchange… it’s like… they get mad when you tell them that you’ll send them a refurbished phone. You know, I try to tell them that it’s “like new”, but they don’t believe me. You know, I’m just trying to wrap my head around how they think that their supposed to get a new phone when they hit someone in the head with it a la Tyra Banks?
Me: Good point Anne. I know exactly what you mean. Let me go to my desk to get the pamphlet about how we explain what refurbished actually means. I’ll be right back, but please, continue with this dialogue and maybe we can come up with something.
30 seconds later: gulp, gulp, gulp… chase it with a canada dry and breathe deeply, grab the pamphlet, enter with a smile, but don’t breathe on anyone. I’d like to wrap her head around a goddamn baseball bat. She’s driving everyone nuts. Not only that, but the rest are really saying it too much now. “At the end of the day” I’m as shitty as an anal gangbang and twice as tired an asshole.
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