He got his start laying pipe for the Atlas Water and Sewer company. Eventually, he climbed the ranks, becoming responsible for a staff of 800 and annual revenue exceeding $120 million. His name is Victor Kipling. This is his weekly column. His opinions and views do not necessarily reflect those of Jobacle.com.
In the interregnum between New Years and Valentines Day, the weather can be kinda dreary, and there’s not a helluva lot going on. So, the power elite has decided that, not unlike the Roman emperors of old, we proles deserve a distraction. It will keep us compliant like sheep – as any corporation dare hope for. So, instead of circuses and chocolate, they have granted us ‘the Supers’ (or should I say ‘Sewers’). Yes sirrr, the next week or so should provide enough alleged amusement to carry us to the next holiday. Because not only will we be afflicted with the usual Super Bowl stuff with all of its hype, but worse yet, we have the presidential primaries to suffer through.
Actually, watching this phony political made-for-tv drama is very much akin to peering at a blossoming staph infection through a microscope, as it feeds on healthy tissue. I mean, sure it’s alive, but that doesn’t mean, as Martha Stewart would say, ‘it’s a good thing.’ Yet, and as every cloud, they tell us, has a silver lining and that from lemons you make lemonade, so it is for the primal scream primaries. Because, a closer look at all of this media-driven crap will very clearly show you that, in this case, life does indeed imitate (schlock) art.
As you masochistically watch and read the coverage, aren’t you reminded of something?
Ding ding ding! If you said the world of work, you are correct. And, though we have no prize money to dole out, or a trip to some el cheapo Mexican resort to give, your answer does give you the chance to enjoy the charade, and maybe even extract an insight or two.
Let’s think about it. Here you have all of these posturing politicos, each promising the world, and, as usual, doing nothing much good for any of us. Or, in fact, doing worse. They’re slick, polished and mostly just glib enough to still sound sincere. Hmm, sorta like your boss when he tells you that your long-awaited raise is on indefinite hold due to ‘the economy,’ or some such crap. So what if your company posted its’ highest profits ever?
No, this isn’t at all about being partisan. But it is, however, about typologies (or stereotypes, if you will). Just for the hell of it, let’s see how each of the major candidates may well have a doppelganger where you work.
He’s any company’s rising star – young, bright, articulate and a friend to all, or so it seems. Everyone wants to be his bud, and he reciprocates with an easy and breezy manner. He champions innovation and has a host of new ideas. Whether he can blend concepts and practicalities, or if he’ll be a stand-up guy if you need him, who knows?
Two for the price of one ain’t necessarily better, especially if they’re rattlesnakes like the Clintons. No wonder so many firms have rules against spouses working together. Blindly ambitious, imbued with a sense of (very undeserved) entitlement and lusting after even more power, these pure psychopaths live to feed off their victims and are the stuff that office nightmares are made of. If your office is infested with such vermin, you also know to avoid, avert or evade them at all costs!
Sure, his 9 1 1 mantra is wearing quite thin, as is his self-proclaimed mantle as ‘Americas’ Mayor.’ At work, this is the type of guy who’s usually brought in as part of a re-organization. To intimidate, to threaten, and to interrogate veteran staff. Ooh, he’s gonna kick ass and take names, he’ll ferret out the naysayers and malcontents, he’ll make your work life hell on earth. And, at the end of the day, really accomplish nothing for the organization, anyway.
Gotta say that this man is a genuine hero and deserves wild props just for surviving the Hanoi Hilton. But that doesn’t necessarily qualify him for anything else, especially for the job of top honcho. It’s kinda like if some well-respected but above average ability exec where you work gets cancer, and survives. Sure you’re happy for him, as is the rest of the place. But, they’re not gonna make him CEO as a result. Nor should they.
With looks right out of central casting, the firm-jawed ex-Governor, and also a son of a governor, has a record to run on, and says pretty much of all the right stuff. Yet, there’s something about his Mr. Perfect patina that’s wearing. Well, he doesn’t drink, smoke, gamble or seem to have any of the usual vices that make us, well, human. And probably that’s the problem. Are there any such poster boys or girls where you work? And, if you’re really honest about it, don’t you want to see them get their asses kicked?
In a very real way, the Oval Office is nothing more than a megafied cubicle in an office building called the White House, and its occupant, an elected CEO. After all, once you strip the mystique away, the federal government is just another company. A place where objectives are created, tasks assigned, budgets prepared, meetings held, and the like. Yet the one constant is that, just like the place where you work, this office is also populated by the smart and the stupid, the zealots and the realists, the wolves and the sheep. And that’s why the safest vote next November may well be for the next American Idol.