December 22nd, 2008

rabbid:  cell phones

What the beep?

Work?  Killing me.  Killing meeeeeeeee.

That's why you have to wait for good entries until I get home.  Believe me, I'd much rather be sitting here thinking up witty things to write.  I don't even get to sit at my desk - I get to sit in a freezing cold room at a computer with no internet access.

The horror.  The horror.

Some people complain about how plugged in we all are; I disagree. WTOP news radio had a spot on how all internet-linked devices are being banned from meetings, because the constant texting, twittering (and resultant giggling) was disrupting productivity.

To hell with productivity, says the woman with a Wednesday deadline.  Give me my internet, and stop blocking random sites, dammit.  For some reason, I can click on random internet pR0n sites, but my friends list is blocked.  Bah.

The future is connectivity.  Yes, tweets as blog entries can be a bit boring, and most people haven't worked out yet that they're not funny enough to distill whatever it is that amused them so much into a single brilliant sentence, but this is the way of the future.  Fred in Accounting used to be compelled to search you out and tell you whatever unfunny thing managed to force its way through the primordial ooze of his frontal cortex; now he can post his tweets to his blog and leave you alone.

Oh, the blessed, blessed quiet of an office full of people gossiping online instead of right outside my door.  I can hit delete, but when I hit the person telling (for the third time) their wildly unamusing story of what their kids did this weekend, everyone calls it assault.  See the improvement technology makes in everyone's lives?

Someone who is texting is someone who is not bogging down the meeting with inane questions.  It's not like you need most of these people at the meeting anyway; Bob from Development has forced his entire subsection to come to suck up to the boss, and the senior management people are counting the seconds until they can leave and get some actual work done (on the golf course).  Meetings are productivity's Kryptonite; why not get something done by text while you're imprisoned for three hours?  It beats stabbing yourself in the thigh (repeatedly) with a pen to stay awake.

In fact, more gets done when you weed out the useless people who send irate messages to the entire company about how they want to unsubscribe from someone's mailing list, and go into long diatribes outside your cubicle about how the name brand sticky notes are better.  Give them all Blackberries, and shut them in a room somewhere.

Disable the sound first. 

We don't want anyone realizing where we hid them.