Where are the humans?
It's sometimes really hard to be a human in corporate America. Actually being a human isn't hard necessarily. From the looks of it, it must be hard staying a human since so few people are successful at it.
The robots are really getting me down. I would love to tell you about what fresh heck they brought upon me today, but I can't. I'll just say this:
When someone says something that presupposes something completely ridiculous and they take an adversarial tone with you from the beginning, you should not say, "I'm not trying to challenge you, but I would like to present a question," and then present a question that reveals the presupposition to be total bullshit.
If you try to show a robot humanity, they will turn their head away and refuse to see. It's like humanity is kryptonite to the corporate robots.
It took all my strength not to excuse myself to the lavatory for a good cry. Of course, the lavatory is about as good a place for a good cry as a Broadway stage what with all the people. Anyway, as it was, I teared up a little at my desk.
I've sort of cracked the code about how people turn into robots: it's all fear. There is so much fear you can feel it. People are afraid of their peers, their bosses, their underlings, customers, vendors, you name it. No one can be trusted. And that includes you.
I haven't cracked the code about how to turn them back into humans. I think there's a closet somewhere just full of souls desperate to get back into the bodies of their people.
Typing that just made me start crying. It's just the saddest thing.
I talked to a colleague who's been in corporate America for a really long time and, for reasons that I cannot ascertain, has remained fairly human. I asked him, "How do you steel yourself from the inhumanity in here and stay human." He didn't really have an answer. I told him that if he had any tips that he should stop by my cubicle.
The robots are really getting me down. I would love to tell you about what fresh heck they brought upon me today, but I can't. I'll just say this:
When someone says something that presupposes something completely ridiculous and they take an adversarial tone with you from the beginning, you should not say, "I'm not trying to challenge you, but I would like to present a question," and then present a question that reveals the presupposition to be total bullshit.
If you try to show a robot humanity, they will turn their head away and refuse to see. It's like humanity is kryptonite to the corporate robots.
It took all my strength not to excuse myself to the lavatory for a good cry. Of course, the lavatory is about as good a place for a good cry as a Broadway stage what with all the people. Anyway, as it was, I teared up a little at my desk.
I've sort of cracked the code about how people turn into robots: it's all fear. There is so much fear you can feel it. People are afraid of their peers, their bosses, their underlings, customers, vendors, you name it. No one can be trusted. And that includes you.
I haven't cracked the code about how to turn them back into humans. I think there's a closet somewhere just full of souls desperate to get back into the bodies of their people.
Typing that just made me start crying. It's just the saddest thing.
I talked to a colleague who's been in corporate America for a really long time and, for reasons that I cannot ascertain, has remained fairly human. I asked him, "How do you steel yourself from the inhumanity in here and stay human." He didn't really have an answer. I told him that if he had any tips that he should stop by my cubicle.
Labels: general malaise, robots, weeping