As some here probably know I make my living as a paramedic. Gleefully wading around in bodyfluids, tears and suffering I use my medicmancy to turn the dying, crying and whining back into normal healthy human beings. Poof. Mostly, anyway. Still, even we have to deal with the bane of modern society: God damn paperwork. The excruciatingly stupid part is that we're in the middle of changing systems so we actually have to do both deadwood paperwork as well as the electronic equivalents. Some things we actually document in three different locations. In some cases we actually have to write -nine- different reports on one single patient.
Anyway, the point I was going to make before my brain derailed was that we too have to use them newfangled electronic calculator sorcery machines... I'm sorry, I was channeling my boss there for a moment. We too have to use computers. Personally I wouldn't mind if it meant we didn't have to do the same work on paper as well, but there you have it. However, it is all made bearable because I have discovered a window into a world of true madness and insanity. I have witnessed fucking R'lyeh, people. I found... the universal mailing list of the region's health services. Including the Administration! (Insert dun dun dun noises as applicable.)
A small sample of e-mails I've seen in the last 48 hours (translated roughly from Norwegian):
"Class in simplified documentation of travel expenses. Two days."
"The administration presents revised guidelines for creative thinking. Six hours."
"Flexible methods in a dynamic day. Today only. Mandatory."
And no less than four mails about how to utilize your time better.
My workplace is probably the sanest and most streamlined affair this side of the freakin' singularity. When I first encountered these little giblets of madness I talked to people I know from other shards of hell... I mean office landscapes... and they pretty much confirmed this was the norm everywhere ties, watercoolers and cubicles lived.
There is no longer any doubt in my mind. I know where all the money and resources go. These insane shards of unreality and madness lodged in the very structure of all our nations. These hellscapes filled with drones buzzing at the keyboards while the Overseers justify their existence with insane memos about efficiency and revised guidelines.
Our energy and financial crisises can be solved simply by having the various militaries bomb random office buildings until we're down to about 10% of the ones we have now. These parasites must be dealt with harshly and quickly. The Broodax breed quickly and from what I see at our own ambulance station, they spread quickly, one report system at a time.
Do you wish to save humanity and yourself? Kill an office worker today. If we all pitch in, we may yet stop them before we all become drones for the Ur-Middle Manager of the Broodax. If you'll excuse me, I have to go open my boss' skull and figure out his apparent immunity to their electronic siege of our last remaining bastions of real jobs. I have a nagging fear that it may require lobotomies.