I'm pleased today to introduce part one of a guest posting following on from a visit by a leading academic in the area of occupational psychopathology to my work unit. It's about bloody time!
A
visit to the Department of Pedantry by Doctor Constantin Constantinopodopoulous of the Department of
Psychiatry and Public Service, University of Chipping Sodbury.
At
first glimpse, it looks like an ordinary civil service building.
Peeling paintwork, suspicious carpet stains, grey men and women staring
blankly.
A
cursory glance into the office canteen at tea break time confirms this
suspicion initially. The tables are occupied by a variety of interesting
specimens. In particular:
- CO staring out the window as three-inch long rope of drool hangs from the corner of her mouth.
- CO staring at the wall (table not adjacent to window) as five-inch long rope of drool hangs from the corner of his mouth.
- CO standing at back of canteen staring at nothing in particular, but with a strange look of murderous intent on his countenance.
- Large
group of middle-aged female EOs talking about Eastenders and cackling
loudly. People at adjacent tables wearing ear protection.
- Senior
managers pretending to discuss policy documents over coffee – in
reality they are trying to finish the Irish Times crossword, which they
have photocopied and slipped in with the weighty looking stuff.
- Private contractor (wearing VISITOR badge) looking around him in bewilderment.
However, behind this dreary and grubby façade, there is a surprising flurry of activity.
A visit to the Apostrophe Enforcement Unit proved that things were not quite as they seemed.
The
unit is staffed by two HEOs, three EOs and three COs and is responsible,
as the name implies, for the regulation and enforcement of correct
apostrophe use. Forms are submitted by members of the public to this
unit, when an infraction of the relevant punctuation mark by a business or advertiser has been
identified. Forms are also completed internally by a member of staff who
monitors the media, specifically print journalism and the Internet for
misuse of punctuation. The forms are collated and processed, and a
member of this unit’s staff visits the offending business premises and
attempts to “re-educate” them in proper English. A variety of weapons
are at the unit’s disposal for this purpose. Pens, multicoloured sticky notes, Departmental letterheads and leaflets entitled: "Common Grammatical Errors and You, You Illiterate Fuck".
More
recent additions to the responsibilities of this unit include Text
Speak Infractions (outside of mobile phone usage), and this alone has
ensured that the volume of work has increased tenfold since the
proliferation of mobile telephony in Ireland. The attendant impact
on everyday written communication of the 140-character-or-less short
messages has been devastating.
When
I first entered, a HEO was busy training two of the COs in correct
form-stapling operations. One CO had correctly collated several dozen
forms and was progressing well. The other CO had managed, in the short
observation period:
1: To staple his thumb and forefinger together
2: To staple a (bloodied) form to his sleeve
3: To staple himself to the HEO.
When
this last incident occurred, the local first aid representative had to
intervene, and both officers were taken to A&E to be separated.
One of the EOs came forward and wiped up the blood from the desk, so I could sit and observe the remaining staff. "We're used to blood aroud here", she said apologetically.
One of the EOs came forward and wiped up the blood from the desk, so I could sit and observe the remaining staff. "We're used to blood aroud here", she said apologetically.
I made myself comfortable. It was going to be a long day...
In Part 2: More bodily fluids, forms, red tape (nothing to do with blood this time) and commonly available stimulants.
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