In a series of scenes right out of One Flew Over the Catch 22 Poseidon Adventure Alien, the meeting began and almost immediately burst into flames. And continued thusly for the next two hours.
Puttin' the fun in dysfunctional.
I'm still not sure that knowing the outcome ahead of time made it any easier to deal with--I mean, in my mind I can sit back and muse and say, "I TOLD me so!" but it's rather unsatisfying.
To put it in the form of a convenient allegory, there is an ant walking along the table toward your cookie. How to stop it from getting your cookie? Well, I would mash it with my thumb, or, if feeling merciful, sweep it off the table. Or, if hungry, eat the cookie.
But if the ant were in our conference room, there are some who would need to know the exact weight of the ant, and where it came from. Others MUST know the ant's preferred route to the cookie, and if it will be bringing more ants. There are those who believe it best to legislate some sort of anti-ant barrier around the cookie, or, failing that, an alternative inducement to provide a small crumb of cookie in a different location and direct the ant that way. Still others understand the only way to deal with ants is through the use of more subtle methodologies such as a 12 gauge shotgun, but only after the ant is firmly dug into the cookie. Then someone wants to know how big the table is. Copies are then made of a document produced by the Wetumpka Cookie Preservation Code Council for the purpose of eliciting comments and possibly drafting a similar set of ordinances. Once written, although the new rules ignore ants entirely, they would leave the cookie relatively free from potential harm due to wombats or peccaries. But! Can we sit here and protect the cookie, when there are OBVIOUSLY other things ants will eat!? What about the sugar? What about the bread!? WHAT ABOUT THE JELLY IN THE REFRIGERATOR!? If an ant was able to pull the door open, climb up to the jelly shelf, and open the jar lid, why, THERE'D BE ANTS IN THE JELLY! This CANNOT STAND! After it becomes obvious that there's no way to reach a decision, the idea is then floated that possibly a consultant should be brought in.
It's all rather mind-rattling. One is apt to sit there wonding why no one will just mash the ant, or eat the cookie.
Well, it's lunchtime--I'm gonna go eat, and pay a bill, and then come back and hope for pretty butterflies and warm kitties and sunshine.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at September 2, 2005 12:19 PMYou realize the cookie is stale by the time you get the report back from the State Cookie Advisory Board?
Plus if you get a Boss a cookie, he'll want a glass of milk. Or a shot of Bourbon.
Posted by: skinnydan at September 2, 2005 01:54 PMIn this case, the cookie will be eaten by the security guard who wanders through the conference room after hours as he makes his way to the restroom. An investigation will be conducted, and it will be agreed that grealing polligen will gral the mourth, but not before the lasdlen reens the flaob. And then someone will scream LOOK! A BADGER!, and for once, it WON'T be me.
It's very strange in here.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at September 2, 2005 02:03 PM