There are bad bosses, there are decent bosses and there are good bosses. But only great bosses do the following: Read More
Mondays. Unless you genuinely love your job, are a massive nerd or one of those evangelical Self-Motivators (“I will empower myself to start this week with AWESOME!”), Mondays can be troublesome.
But is Mondayitis an actual, serious psychophysiological illness or just a throwaway malady akin to man flu and hose buttock? To find out, I asked former GP and practising psychologist Dr Egan Patiens.… Read the restRead More
Regular readers will know, or have by now deduced, that I am in an existential crisis. I’m generationally awry.
I have the Birth Certificate, digital literacy and firm buttocks of a Generation Y, but the basic grammatical skills, suspicion of young people, latent revolutionary zeal and ever-present fear of imminent apocalypse of a Baby Boomer.
The Gen Y in me is impatient. But impatient for what the Boomer in me yearns for: a better, simpler, earlier time. Even though I’ve never experienced one.
I’m 33 and already a sort of strange quasi-reactionary, just without all the racism, desire for religious reverence or blatant misogyny. But I’m covering old ground here, so let me get to my point.… Read the restRead More
At my parents’ place.
Me: Hello Lucy. What are you doing? Playing with Duplo?
Me: Can I play as we- Oh. OH! OH MY FUUUUU-
My mum: Oh, don’t be so silly.
Me: WHAT IS IT? Lucy, don’t look.
Mum: It’s Marilyn.… Read the restRead More
Some people ask me while I’m signing autographs or they’re basking in the fresh-baked-bread warmth of my celebrity, “Jonathan, have you ever written something you wish you could take back?”
I always tell them “yes”, even though it’s patently untrue and every one of my pieces of work to date has, on any objective scale, been between an 8.5 and a 13 out of 10.
Why? Because you should never trust a person who doesn’t have any regrets.
I’m all for a bit of haught. I named my blog after it. I start most of my articles and many of my emails with it. I think a sprinkle of superciliousness is good for the soul. (It’s like nutmeg in that way.) But the philosophy of regretlessness is arrogance taken to a preposterous level, a level that not even I, with my weather balloon head and galactic ego, can empathise with. Read More
There’s an acronym doing the rounds on the interconnected network of digitised information at the moment. You might be familiar with it.
It’s TMI. It stands for “too much information”.
According to Urban Dictionary… actually, no I just checked and I can’t use any definitions from Urban Dictionary without risking losing the few remaining followers I have left.
TMI is generally used as a term of exasperation or disgust. It’s dispensed by a person burdened by the involuntarily role of listener. The recipient is a teller considered by the listener to have demonstrated the faultiness of an important biological filtration mechanism – the one that connects their brain to their mouth, thus:
“I just did a burp that tasted of a witch’s broth with a human foot in it. In a cauldron.”
“Oh. OK. Wow. TMI.”
The colleague who routinely discharges TMI is the most challenging of workplace obstacles. Read More
A little while ago a friend thought one of my articles was a pointed reference to his own behaviour.
This was just his own giant ego and tendency towards solipsism playing tricks with his very small mind. What a neurotic clown he was for making such an assumption; I would never besmirch his already grease-spattered reputation in print.
It got me thinking about how easily a misunderstanding can lead to offence and how convenient that can be for some, especially in the workplace. Read More
Last week, someone contacted me.
Not really. That was a little joke.
The person who contacted me was Haughtmaniac, Andrea Chick.
Are you familiar with Arnott’s BBQ Shapes? Of course you are! Who hasn’t copped a mouthful of red and green sprinkles as they dived in for the last remaining morsels in the bottom of the bag?
Have you had one lately?
They are NEW AND IMPROVED! Well, at least that is what they say on the pack. New, yes. Improved…um…well there appears to be revulsion and revolt afoot from the feedback I have read on the Arnott’s Shapes facebook page.
Please help Arnott’s. Please help us all.
I considered myself commissioned.
I decided it was better to write late than never.
[At a party.]
“So what do you do for a living, Johnson?”
“Uh… it’s Jonathan… I’m a… well, a writer.”
“A writer? You write books? Novels?”
“No, no, no. No. Definitely not.
“But I do write a little thing… a little columny thing… in the paper.”
“The local paper? Well that’s nice.”
“No. The Age. And The Sydney Morning Herald. And some other ones online.”
“Oh. What do you write about?”
“Well… I dunno… stuff.”
“Stuff? As in auction prices?”
“Auction pri-? What? No. Stuff like work, life in the corporate world, management buzzwords.”
“Give me an example of one of these columns of yours.”
“Well… um… for instance… I might talk about how difficult this conversation can be.”
“The one we’re having now. The one that starts with ‘So what do you do, Jonathan?’ ”
“Sounds fascinating. And what did you do at uni to qualify you to be a columnist?”
“Well, I’m not really… I did Arts. A Bachelor of Arts.”
“Oh. A Bachelor of Arts? Oh! Wow! How’s working at McDonald’s going for you?”
“No. Remember. Five seconds ago, I told you I don’t work at McDonald’s.”
“You did. You did. That’s right.… Read the restRead More
I’m all for metaphors. If variety is the spice of life then metaphors are the smoked paprika of language. I just made a metaphor out of a metaphor; that’s how highly I regard them.
But my veneration for the figurative extends only so far.
Like so many things sucked into the corporate vortex, metaphors become significantly less delectable once appropriated by the Organisational and Regulatory Group for Aligned and Strategic Management (ORGASM), or whatever the central workplace buzzword creation committee is called in your region.
Here’s an example. Read More