August 27, 2009

• Deeply confused geniuses

  “I think that pretty much everyone accepts that llamas always come up last in converastion,” Jeremy said with a tone of irresistable common sense.  Tim nodded at his desk, reflecting on the point.  Suddenly, their boss appeared in the door.
  “Jeremy, a word in my office, please.”
  Once inside the office, Jeremy closed the door behind him.
  “What’s this all ab—”
  “You’re fired.” 
  Jeremy stood speeechless before his boss. 
  “I’m speechless,” Jeremy said.
  “Good, I don’t want to hear a speech,” his boss said cursorily, focused on his cluttered desk.
  “Ever since you fired me, my life has been terrible,” Jeremy whimpered, ignoring his boss entirely.
  “You mean since a moment ago?”
  “You know what you are?” Jeremy said, amplifying his tenor, “You’re lots and lots of really bad adjectives.”  The emphasis in certain words of Jeremy’s was inglorious.  “And I mean lots of them.  And the effect of the precise wording of them stuns you.  They completely blow you away.  After that, I go on to analyze an entire history of wrongs which I’ve noticed about you which I never mentioned.  Then, more terrible adjectives.  Furthermore, I add lots of unjustified speculation about what other employees in this office think of you as a boss.  I conclude with an overarching assessment of your profoundly negative impact on my life.”
  “I lean back in my chair and consider your remarks,” his boss replied, not moving, “Then I get up and pace around to the wall where I reflect on the picture of Washington crossing the Delaware.  In that moment it strikes me: that took gumption.  And your speech showed gumption, too.  I turn around and look at you .”
  “My silence shows attentiveness and deference,” Jeremy said plaintively.
  “The attentiveness and deference of your silence annoys me.”
  “I continue talking.”
  “The phrasing seems to miss the mark; the gumption turns stale.”
  Suddenly, nothing happened.
  “What’s wrong with my writing?” Jeremy finally wondered out of desperation.
  “In the first of all,” his boss began, “you continually waste the first line in your articles; normally they have nothing whatever to do with the rest of the piece.”
  “I humbly accept the point, and request a delay of my removal to allow time for improvement.”
  A long silence followed.
  “I agree immediately,” his boss affirmed. 
  “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Jeremy cried, moving toward the door to escape.
  “Oh, and you need to work on your word economy, too,” his boss bellowed at him.
  “Right!” Jeremy concurred. “Look at that, only one word!” he yelled to underline the superb word economy in his reply, “Then . . . six more.  And three more after that.  Plus another . . . five . . .”
  “Your endings need work as well!” his boss yelled as Jeremy had just slipped out the door.

  • 6:52 pm
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