Because Every Minion In The Workplace Likes Schadenfreude
Am I going to have to define that again? It's the unusually concise Teuton word that means "Malicious enjoyment of other people's misery", and we love it here at the blog, since it has no calories, fits into any compartment and comes with free warranty.
The tale I am about to relate is, quite obviously, from South Canada, where the management all mourn the passing of slavery and try to recreate it wherever they can. One of their favourite practices is to forbid employees from mentioning to each other what their salaries are, claiming that it's against company policy or that it will gravely affect the pistachio harvest in the Sanjak of Novi Pazar. Art!
Not a pistachio plant in sight
In the real world this is HIGHLY ILLEGAL and were it to be mentioned to the county or state Labour Board, would result in prosecution and massive fines being levied.
Okay, Original Poster related how a much-respected and long-serving employee was hounded out of his job by a malicious HR department, who had tried to bully him into creating a gigantic manual applicable across the whole business. Unpaid, because - once again, slavery.
MRALS employee knew exactly how to get revenge on the company. In the minutes before he left, as a parting request, he asked everyone to divulge what their salaries were. Art!
Close enough
Instantly, chaos descended as people found their salaries were wildly different for the same job, for completely specious and utterly false reasons that HR had spouted. Said department were rather ticked-off (which is British for "Furiously angry") that the ignorant peons weren't so ignorant any longer. 17 people across departments immediately resigned and walked out or gave notice.
Come Monday morning the head HR lady tried to do damage control, in what was her trademark condescending, supercilious and snarky tone. Not really living the "HR" part of "HR", was she? Art!
Proving that she couldn't read a room if it was in glowing neon letters ten feet tall, she lectured at them for forty minutes about how the people who had given notice or left were actually the hellspawn of Beelzebub and would burn in eternal torment in the depths of Hades (interspersed with glares at the numerous people ignoring her). By the time she ended her speech nobody was working and the air was full of questions being flung at her, as barbed as arrows. She immediately chickened out and left to hide in her office.
What, perhaps, provoked the most wrath was that HR determined what people's pay was, who got raises, expenses, honorariums, moved to different pay scales, stuff like that. Including access to a disaster-relief fund, which they consistently denied access to. HMMMM I WONDER WHERE THAT MONEY WAS GOING? Art!
"Only a bit of damp," claimed HR
The the cops showed up. You may think this is a bad thing. Not really, as there were no gun battles or Tazerings, and the staff got sent home early, without, of course - obviously! - being told what was going on, beyond being aware that management were comprehensively baffled. OP then promised to update the next day. Art!
CAUTION! Avoid looking guilty. Or armed.
The truth came slinking into daylight: HR had felt "threatened". Conrad is unsure what constitutes unacceptable conduct by management - horsewhipping and being thrown into a pit of wild animals are probably top of the list - but calling the police on your truculent office minions is up there, too.
Such a faux pas brought both the attention and the presence of Corporate HR down upon this branch, as they had already been eyeing HR there with considerable suspicion. Along the lines of HMMMM I WONDER WHERE THAT MONEY WAS GOING? Art!
Corporate HR showed up and proved how experienced they were by immediately sequestering the branch HR in a meeting room all day long, meaning they weren't able to influence any of the minions. Who were all interviewed individually about what had been going on at the branch and with HR. This led to a series of revelations: employees had not been getting their bonuses; employees were being paid below their salary banding; an employee had been written up for taking their sick child to hospital -
The entire HR department was fired, along with any other managers who had colluded with them. Art!
"Yes, We Have No Bananas"
Well of course you don't, you're a bank. For reasons I cannot understand, this peculiar song title popped into my head a couple of days ago. The wretched ear-worm is a century old, written by Frank Silver and Irving Cohn. The strange lyric comes from a Greek fruit stallholder that Silver passed on the way to work each morning, who began everything he said with "Yes". Art!
Banana and music. Close enough.
More bizarrely, this was the anthem of choice in a series of riots in Belfast during 1932. This time, almost uniquely, the Prods and Taigs were rioting together, not against each other. YWHNB turned out to be the single song they all knew that wasn't full of hateful sectarian invective. Art!
It became public domain in 2019 so you can now do whatever you want with it.
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| CAUTION! There are those who revere the banana |
Groundhog Groundhog Day Day
There must be something in the water, over in South Canada. Do you remember when Pumpkinhead lost the civil suit brought against him by E. Jean. Carroll? The charges included defamation, and sexual assault, and he lost to the tune of $5 million.
He then went on national television the very next day and repeated exactly the same defamatory allegations, and is now going to appear in court in January with Ol' EJ foisting $10 million upon him. Art!
Pumpkin or squash? Only you can tell!
So, too, with his old crony Rudy Giuliani, who just lost a defamation case to the tune of a staggering $148 million.
- and whom is now being sued for defamation again after repeating the defamatory charges again because, apparently, he can find $148 million down the back of the sofa.
Doubtless the Incredible Melting Man will appeal against the court findings, BUT even if they cut it in half he is still completely whangdoodled. Art!
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| Distantly related? |
"City In The Sky"
The Doctor saved! Alien skullduggery exposed! The coasties educated!
Occasional questions were directed at Don, who ignored them, as he did
everything else. When this statement
about the destruction of Forrest fell on the audience, an ugly-sounding
collective whisper could be heard – directed at the hapless Mayor.
‘Not a bush fire?’ asked Mike. He
had settled down on a stage chair, beginning to take a closer interest in the
Doctor’s inflammatory statements now that his agonising headache had diminished
to merely painful.
‘No. I looked at the bush around
Forrrest. Burned no more than a few
dozen metres beyond the town. The
prevailing winds ought to have carried any fires away from the town, not into it.
And since when did you hear of a fire so sudden that it overwhelmed a
whole town instantly? Not even horses in
harness were able to escape. The
Arcology’s Dart was the real target.
This supposed “bush fire” managed to make the craft’s skin turn molten,
despite there being an absence of any bush or trees near it.’
A member of the coastal visitors stood up amidst the audience. Tanned and seamed of skin, he took off his
hat and stared at the Doctor.
‘What do these bloody aliens want?
And what can we do about it!’
Having retrieved his dusty, holed and now scuffed boater from Alex, the
Doctor pushed it back on his head and looked back at the speaker.
And riled up as well
"The War Illustrated"
We've not had a picture from TWI for a while, so let's continue with separate images from their mid-page montage. Art!
Sadly, for the bloodthirsty ghouls out there, most of a soldier's existence is not desperately deadly combat on the front lines. Here we see British infantry doing what it is wisest to do when not doing anything - resting and sleeping. Why? Because you never know when you'll next get a chance to kip, war being the chaotic business that it is.
Blogger's visit tracking algorithm has either gone potty or BOOJUM! is suddenly, wildly popular across the globe. Art!
Over a thousand visitors before nine o'clock in the morning? Flattering but I hardly think so. The only explanation that makes sense is that these are people trying to get on my good side before I take over.
Finally -
I think that's enough waffling wibble for one day. O and "Malis Pumilae" are apples. Just so we're clear.
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