My wife and I recently had to deal with the consequences of tree roots having grown into our sewer line--said consequences being, in a predictable double entendre, of a notably shitty variety. But at least it was our own shit, and real, as opposed to the figurative shit of others that one now breathes in with the cultural air.
For example, my employer has, against my will, enrolled me in "BAtraining" (the "BA" stands for "business analyst") conducted by a firm specializing in "business consulting." So I show up for the first class, open a three-ring binder that has been supplied to all participants, and begin reading, on the first page, about the company whose tutelage I am to be on the receiving end of for 21 days over the next few months:
. . . We believe that people, not technology, develop systems, and that all development must be "user-centric." We believe that all tasks produce a work product, or system, and that for that work product to be optimal, the work must be segmented and developed incrementally so that each portion is intellectually manageable. Along the way, each segment is verified to ensure that purpose dictates function, which then determines the form used to produce the final product. We also believe that an engineering approach to software development is much more reliable than an artistic one. To that end we advocate essential, logical, and physical analyses of the problem as critical steps in the development process. To serve these beliefs, we consistently allocate a very large percentage of revenue to our R&D efforts to develop better approaches to "How Systems are Built." This allows us to be flexible and common sense-like in our approach rather than dogmatic. . . .
And so on. I remember getting back essays I wrote as a college freshman on which the teacher had written, at irregular intervals in the margins, "What does this mean?" But even back then I trust I would have been embarrassed to claim authorship of the above stretch of expository emptiness. The question of what it might mean is probably beside the point, on the ground that the purpose was not to mean anything at all but, rather, to persuade potential clients, like my employer, that a repository of mysteries too deep to be expressed in English is, for a price, available to them and their employees.
It didn't get better when class started. I am in for some long, long days, and apparently they will proliferate: my boss has asked me to "share" with colleagues my "learnings" at weekly meetings. That is the way she talks. The other day she said at a meeting that we have to be "prepareful" of certain looming obstacles. My theory is that she has herself attended a lot of these seminars. Come to think of it, she was signed up for BA training, but then it conflicted with some other training courses she's attending!
In the interval between my first and second treatments of "BA training" I received a notice from my old college's alumni office, the purpose of which was to solicit my attendance at some college-sponsored events. My eye, falling on blurb number two in the list, was assaulted with
Laura Ely, founder of Discover Your Beauty, has assisted thousands of people to consciously communicate the core of who they are through what they wear. Since 1991 she has been a leading consultant to business executives, religious leaders, entrepreneurs, non-profit organizations, and on Oct. 9--you!
Grimly curious, I clicked on the link for online registration and read:
What is your "Personal Brand?" When who you are on the inside aligns with your outer appearance, you'll experience increased self-confidence, communication and energy levels. You'll find yourself propelled toward greater professional success and personal fulfillment.
I don't know what benefits are conferred nowadays on those who have put in their seat time at a liberal arts college, but one might have hoped that some modest powers of bullshit detection would be cultivated. Formerly it was a useful power to possess. Now, though, most of the world has been sucked down the hole, and the remnant must be looking like a collection of crackpots walking about with cottonballs in their nostrils.
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