Yes.....but is it Art?

I’ve talked about the language of Management Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk (MGBT) many a time before. I’ve often maintained that in the world of Management it’s used as a form of academic snobbery in order to underpin a clique. The normal people aren’t allowed to join this clique or club. Membership as stated previously is by invite only.

It’s the same in other worlds as well. Information Technology dresses its clique language in the elaborately woven dress of acronyms, also known as TLA’s (three letter abbreviations). I’ve heard some ridiculous ones in many places and it makes you wonder what came first – the acronym or the proper name. So insidious are these clique languages that the use of the acronym now pervades the entire English language. So much so that even numerical parts of the language such as dates are affected. After all we now refer to 9/11 instead of September 11th for example and how often do you hear the phrase “twenty four seven”. I too am not immune to this creeping malaise because I’d never get through a day at work if I didn’t use or understand MGBT. I am also a golfer, a sport renowned for its mystifying use of terms
such as Birdie, Double-bogey, fade and draw amongst many others.

But nowhere is the language bastardised into a mystifying clique language more than the world of Art. Here, it is taken to new extremes of pretentiousness and academic snobbery all designed to baffle and bemuse the average art punter like me. Now don’t get me wrong I am not dismissing Art per se – in fact I love all aspects of Art with the exceptions of the ridiculous, such as brick walls or unmade beds. Even some of the Classic painting are best described as …shit. The question “But is it Art?” occasionally needs the answer to be “No! of course it fucking isn’t…it’s a urinal you pompous twat” .

Now read on good people for a prime example of utter pomposity, anally retentive academic
snobbery and utter delusion. The exhibit is a glass of water on a shelf and ….get this…..was
lent to The Tate from a private collection! I am about to become an artist and make loads of
money from spouting utter garbage that explains utter garbage. Dunno why I didn’t think of this before.

Artist : Michael Craig-Martin (born 1941)

The Exhibit – An Oak Tree (1973)

While this appears to be a glass of water on a shelf, the artist states that it is in fact an oak tree. Craig-Martin’s assertion addresses fundamental questions about what we understand to be art and our faith in the power of the artist. The work can be seen as an exploration of Marcel Duchamp’s declaration that any existing object can be declared a work of art. In his accompanying text, Craig-Martin provides the questions as well as the answers, allowing the simultaneous expression of scepticism and belief regarding the transformative power of art.

Q: To begin with, could you describe this work?
A: Yes, of course. What I've done is change a glass of water into a full-grown oak tree without altering the accidents of the glass of water.

Q: The accidents?
A: Yes. The colour, feel, weight, size...

Q: Do you mean that the glass of water is a symbol of an oak tree?
A: No. It's not a symbol. I've changed the physical substance of the glass of water into that of an oak tree.

Q: It looks like a glass of water...
A: Of course it does. I didn't change its appearance. But it's not a glass of water. It's an oak tree.

Q: Can you prove what you claim to have done?
A: Well, yes and no. I claim to have maintained the physical form of the glass of water and, as you can see, I have. However, as one normally looks for evidence of physical change in terms of altered form, no such proof exist.

Q: Haven't you simply called this glass of water an oak tree?
A: Absolutely not. It is not a glass of water anymore. I have changed its actual substance. It would no longer be accurate to call it a glass of water. One could call it anything one wished but that would not alter the fact that it is an oak tree.

Q: Isn't this just a case of the emperor's new clothes?
A: No. With the emperor's new clothes people claimed to see something which wasn't there because they felt they should. I would be very surprised if anyone told me they saw an oak
tree.

Q: Was it difficult to effect the change?
A: No effort at all. But it took me years of work before i realised I could do it.

Q: When precisely did the glass of water become an oak tree?
A: When I put water in the glass.

Q: Does this happen every time you fill a glass with water?
A: No, of course not. Only when I intend to change it into an oak tree.

Q: Then intention causes the change?
A: I would say that it precipitates the change.

Q: You don't know how you do it?
A: It contradicts what feel I know about cause and effect.

Q: It seems to me you're claiming to have worked a miracle. Isn't that the case?
A: I'm flattered that you think so.

Q: But aren't you the only person who can do something like this?
A: How could I know?

Q: Could you teach others to do it?
A: No. It's not something one can teach.

Q: Do you consider that changing the glass of water into an oak constitutes an artwork?
A: Yes.

Q: What precisely is the artwork? The glass of water?
A: There is no glass of water any more.

Q: The process change?
A: There is no process involved in the change.

Q: The oak tree?
A: Yes. The oak tree.

Q: But the oak tree only exists in the mind.
A: No. The actual oak tree is physically present but in the form of the glass of water. As the glass of water was a particular glass of water, the oak tree is also particular. To conceive the category "oak tree" or to picture a particular oak tree is not to understand and experience what appears to be a glass of water as an oak tree. Just as it is imperceivable, it is also inconceivable.

Q: Did the particular oak tree exist somewhere else before it took the form of the glass of water?
A: No. This particular oak tree did not exist previously. I should also point out that it does not and will ever have any other form but that of a glass of water.

Q: How long will it continue to be an oak tree?
A: Until I change it.

Later, Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with
a Pict (well if he can do it…..)

This weeks phrase

A toughie this week, which runs to next week due to the day off on Monday.

"I have some ideas I'd like to stir-fry in our think-wok"

Phew.

Later, Grocerjack

Too old for this shit

Friday - a drive to Goole for a stopover en route to friends who live in Dunbar. 250 miles.

Friday Night - a skinful of Magners

Saturday - drive the rest of the way to delightful restaurant/hotel - 250 miles. All on a Macdonalds breakfast and the worst petrol station sandwiches I've ever had.

Saturday night - a lovely meal, in a lovely place, , loads of Magners and some red wine. No memory of going to bed.

Sunday Morning - no breakfast as clocks went forward and we slept in. I fucking hate this bollocks of moving clocks. Leave them on BST and be done with it. Fuck the Scots - if they want a separate time zone then let them get on with it.

Sunday - drive back 500 miles in one hit. Hellsbells slept for 98% of the journey.

Monday - forced to grovel to The Master for day off as I could barely move through tiredness.

Is it any wonder the likes of Keith Richard and Steve Tyler all live cleanly now they're older? At some point the body tells you very quickly that although the candle can be burnt at both ends, once you're in your forties it can only be done infrequently for short periods of time. In my case, 2 nights of drinking required 2 days of laying on a settee, drinking squash and watching TV.

Later, Grocerjack

A Challenge

Every week the team will now give me a phrase or buzzword which I have to slip into the weekly management meeting. The one who makes the suggestion will donate £1 if I manage to get it into the meeting. If I fail then I donate £1. It's silly isn't it! This week the phrase was one immortalised by Alan Partridge....."Back of the net".

Too easy by half, but it appears the tricksters in my team are already thinking up more fiendish phrases that sound like MGBT (see posts passim). Could it be "drop this into he Thought Tombola" next week? Watch this space as I attempt to bamboozle the Stepford Managers in the F Band Plus Club with some utterly made up MGBT and see if they spot the charade or whether they think I'm serious. I wonder how many of the faux-MGBT phrases actually get to be in common use.

Any of your suggestions are also most welcome.

Later, Grocerjack

The Stepford Managers Club

The madness that accompanies working for The Company continues at a fair old lick. In my old job (or “role” as they call it now) I was pretty much bored rigid, working for a propeller headed pedant who was the worst man-manager I’ve ever encountered , or maybe the second worst….the more I think about it the harder the call becomes.

In those days the Management Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk (MGBT) was the language of Process and Planning designed to confuse any listener or outsider by spouting words formed into pseudo-sentences containing no meaning and saying nothing. It’s another section of the trend towards intellectual snobbery and akin to that used in the detestable world of Fashion and to a degree, the world of Art. The proponents of this use it like criminals used Cockney rhyming slang to baffle and confuse those not in the know. It’s a way of saying “I’m better than you because I know this stuff and you don’t” – they believe this then gives them a power over the ignorant masses by excluding them from their clique.

This is how things work within The Company. I have now moved into an environment where boredom is now looked at as a luxury. I never stop attending meetings, writing reports and documents and guiding my team. Whilst I battle away each day to meet The Master’s expectations, all around me the baffling language of the Senior Stepford Managers within The Company continues to grow. The process to becoming a Senior Stepford Manager is shrouded in absolute mystery. The promotion process is not published and if you’re on the band below Stepford Manager grade (“Band F or Above” as its known) , like me then getting there appears to be by magic or witchcraft.

It’s a secret club you know. You can only get in by being a member. Membership is by invite only. The walls of the club are lined with Gold. It’s like Floor 500 of Satellite Five (later Game Station) from Doctor Who in the Chris Eccleston period. It’s exactly the same. Your name is called, you enter a lift and in that lift you attend a Breakthrough Course. This is the point at which your membership is confirmed. This is the point at which any remnants of personality and Individuality are removed. The real you with all your faults, your sense of humour, your EMOTIONS is a withered husk locked in a darkened room. What comes back after a “bodysnatchers” period is the Stepford version of you.

All smiles, always positive, always working late, unable to talk about anything other than work even when outside work and with a skin burn on the side of your face from the constant important mobile phone calls you take.

You are Now Very Important!

But nobody likes you much.

Later, a still human Grocerjack

Work not good for blood pressure shock!

Another thing about this new role is The Master (pictured) keeps on making new demands on what he wants done. Fine as long as you're given the chance to finish something else off first. We have 4 major projects on the go that we're involved in as a team, plus I'm doing a presentation to several hundred people in just 2 weeks, alongside trying to get 3 of new team into higher pay bands.

I ain't used to this! I've been in a soporific job for 3 years and this sudden ramp up in expectation and workload is a bloody shock to the system

Hence, on Saturday morning at my usual game of golf, a pursuit designed to make you switch off from work, I was so wrapped up in thinking about my presentation, the business case for the pay bands and the fact that 2 of the team have decided to leave for pastures new that I smashed my 3-iron into the side of my golf bag halfway down the second hole in frustration at what had been my umpteenth shite shot.

A quick shake of the hands to The King and The Major's Son and I stormed off. 30 minutes of rage induced driving to nowhere finished with me eating a pile of E numbers in the form a MacDonalds breakfast, before coming home to take it out on HellsBells and LittleSis (who had stayed over),

I hereby apologise to both of them publicly for what I can only describe as a blood pressure moment. A fuse blew somewhere and all I can point at is work.

It will not happen again. Some Spock like logic will now be applied and any rants will be extinguished internally. At least that's the aim.....

Later Grocerjack

So What Happened?

Well, the biggest thing you might remember is me changing jobs within the company after 3 and a bit years of working in one of the dullest jobs ever, for one of the most pedantic and uninspiring people I've ever had the misfortune to come into contact with. The Schoolteacher was a pleasant bloke, but not the sort you'd rely on in an emergency, nor have a drink with. No, he was a decent chap but a bit like Captain Darling. With no balls.

So have things improved? Well, if your idea of improvement is being shunted from one Management Gobbledygook Bollocks Talk meeting to another then frankly no. If you enjoy sitting in meetings where people liberally spout Meeting Bingo platitudes such as "evangelising the customer expectation" , " blue sky thinking" , "running ideas up the flagpole" and "welcoming the virgin challenge" then....errr...no. In fact all I've done is shift from working for an uninspiring fuckwit to a mutated version of Reggie Perrins underlings. Yep, my current boss , The Master, is one constant round of "Fabulous", "Positive News" and "Marvellous Achievements" and so on. He reminds me of the Alec Baldwin character that Phoebe in friends once dated who seemed to fill his pants with a load at the simplest of things ("Wow, dontcha just love stairs", "aren't glasses such wonderful things " etc). Alright, it's toned down a bit from that but lets put it this way.....like all people at this level it seems that clarity is a little lost child in a forest of ambiguity in his life. And despite the smile, you can't help thinking he's one of the Branson clan, outwardly nice, but relentlessly ambitious and ruthless underneath.

Anyway, there are some plus points, the team are good fun although it was to good to be true that they were all happy. Nah, they were just anaesthetised after years of being pushed into the background. So, I'm working on getting them a bit angry and hungry again. I've also come across across 2 of the most power crazed ambitious people I've ever met. People who make The Sandman look like Pooh Bear in comparison. I'm going to have fun bursting their bubbles and writing about them here, the poor wretched souls.

So, less time to write, which means I've got to overcome my problem of being unable to write concisely. As The Master would say in a sickeningly positive manner, with only special people like me able to detect that it's veiled with undertones of something dark "Face the challenge and plan for success".

Vomit.

Later Grocerjack

Dirty Digger vs The Grinning Jumper

Sky vs Virgin in a battle of media giants.







It's well documented what I think of Sky, the money-grabbing useless fuckwits. I've not always been the biggest fan of the Great Leader Murdoch Senior, let alone his egotistical son, Dear Leader. In my eyes, News International have been allowed far too much power through excessive media ownership across the globe, but nowhere more than the Land of Dope and Moron that is the UK. But successive governments of either persuasion have been simply too scared of him and have basically doffed their caps and opened their political arses for a good long shafting.

Branson is a grinning fool, or that's the image he likes to convey. As far as astute businessmen go though he must be a ruthless bastard because we all know you don't get rich and powerful by being nice. Yes, he is a self publicising twat at times but he does seem to realise the value of publicity, even if it makes him look a dick. His appearance last week after the Cumbrian train crash showed at the very least his compassion. Can anyone imagine The Dirty Digger doing similar?

After my own encounter with Sky and my subsequent acceptance back into the NTL fold after eating sizeable slices of humble pie, I was glad to see the Virgin takeover of NTL. Lets face it, NTL had an image problem that would never disappear even if they single handedly removed famine from Africa and resurrected Princess Diana. Their customer service was as bad as Sky's, but at least they didn't send out fuckwits to install equipment. Not to my house anyway.

The new Virgin service has been good. I'm on the £85 VIP deal giving me 10Mb broadband, Sports and Movie channels and free calls to virtually everything, plus the fab V+ HD box which pauses live TV and frankly kicks the arse of SkyPlus very hard. So, we lost Sky One, that paragon of British TV content (sic), with its ad break 2 minutes into the programme and shite such as Cirque de Celebrity, HogFather and Project Fucking Catwalk. As for Sky Two, well as if one wasn't bad enough along came the single worst second channel since the sheer bollocks of ITV2, undisputed king of dismally bad TV. How comes we get to keep any ITV Channel - now there' some shite I'd gladly lose.

Sample ITV2 schedule
19:00 - American Idol
20:00 - American Idol
21:00 - More American Idol
22:00 - American Idol Uncovered
23:00 - American Idol Uncut
00:00 - Idol of America
01:00 - American Twat

Sample Sky One/Two Schedule
19:00 - The Simpsons (US)
19:30 - The Simpsons (US)
20:00 - Lost (US)
21:00 - 24 (US)
22:00 - Lost Again (US)
24:00 - 24 Again (US)
01:00 - Still fucking Lost somewhere in plotless clueless sideshow

We also lost The Sun of the airways, Sky News - how many self respecting journalist could work them is beyond me. Still pay anyone enough and they'll happily spout the Murdoch agenda having had a good mouthwash on a fresh injection of his jizz. Sky Sports news was good, and I will miss that, but Virgin could do a similar channel. I mean how fucking dear can it be to employ some sports hacks and get interviews with managers and sports people?

Sky Travel and Sky Travel extra were the other losses (sic) - oh yeah, key channels in the Grocerjack household! So here's my message to the pair. Well done Virgin, its about time someone stood up to Sky. Long term you've got little hope and a real battle, but thanks for trying. Sky - you really are just a bunch of bullies who can't take any challenge of competition. Kill it at birth, that's your philosophy, just like you did with BSB. Every empire falls though, very empire falls.

Come on Beardy

Later, Grocerjack

Psycho Letter 2

And here's Page 1 - he was found guilty and was fined £3000 and ordered to pay costs. He defended himself because presumably no solicitor would have been stupid enough to defend him, especially bearing in mind his admission to the police that he HAD sent the letter to me and a similar one to the neighbour on the other side of him. His defence was based on the fact that the letters were in fact NOT meant to cause distress or anxiety, nor meant to be threatening. No, his defence was that they were merely "advisory" and part of his duty to act as a good Christian. During the trial he stated that he believed the CPS was an inherently corrupt organisation, that the Criminal Justice system in this country could not be trusted and that the police had mis-handled the case from start to finish.

How to make friends and influence people huh?

In fact the full story of the trial is utterly surreal, but too long to put into writing. Just take my word for it, this man is living in a Walter Mitty existence. Even his wife didn't attend - perhaps she knows something. Needless to say everything he accuses me of is utter bollocks, but during the trial he stated that was with-holding a pack of "compelling" evidence of " a litany of bad behaviour, physical abuse, threats , vandalism and trespass" against me, which he intends to use in a civil case. Bring it on matey, bring it on. Interesting to see how much evidence he has of NOTHING, because that's what's happened - in fact words haven't been exchanged for 4 years.

And I have to live next door to this. What a stroke of luck don't you think?

Later, Grocerjack

Psycho letter

Folks - page 2 of the letter I received from Psycho Neighbour in June last year.

See the post above for the first page - just click to see the image - the files are big but that's because I can't work out how to make them smaller.

Later Grocerjack

Changes

Well well, look who's coming back. Grocerjack's had a rest, had a kip and is making his comeback.

In the break I've taken my new "role" or "JOB" as we used to call it, I've been to court with PsychoNeighbour, twisted one ankle, had gout in the other and endured a whole host of other things that have generally proved the maxim that "modern life is rubbish" to be true.

Like the other blog I contribute towards, this site will be a place to let off steam, to highlight the stupidity of people, or technology, to expose the ridiculous wage-slave bollocks I endure in order to keep a roof over my family's head and to expose the general hideousness of life in the Land of Dope and Moron today.

The difference is I want this blog to be .....collaborative....... and not solely down to me. So if you have an article you want posting then let me know - I'll cast a beady editorial eye over it and ....well.....if it's good enough I'll publish it.

Then you can see your writing published in lights for the world potentailly to love you or rip the piss out of you.

Jacks back, and not a moment too soon.

Later, Grocerjack