Among my many responsibilities at work, I would strongly argue that my weekly educational/messaging training session - the Mind-Blast for +4 Damage - is not only my favorite but that of my coworkers as well.
Why?...Let's just say that I bring a unique approach to training...and pretty much anything else work related...including meetings. I am well known for showing Strongbad Emails and AskaNinja videos at the beginning of Mind-Blasts to make up for the boring suckage of exposition that I am about to bludgeon my coworkers with. Today, however, I decided that merely watching a video would not be enough. Nay! We would create one. (Technically, my thought processes didn't really follow that route, but I'm afraid that the human language lacks the complexity to express anything approaching my mental patterns outside of the phrase "No impulse control.")
I share with you now the majesty that is the Mind-Blast for +4 Damage. Today, we learn about some of the common branding mistakes that the team has made. We learn a little about ourselves. We learn a little about the world around us. And we learn the answer to the question that has plagued mankind for millennia - namely, what is the result of this equation:
3 Liters of Diet Coke
+ 5 Rolls of Mentos
+ 3 Sheets of Printer Paper
+ 3 Business Cards
???
Now don't you wish you worked with me?
Video courtesy of Erik (Ulric) Taylor.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Life Imitating Art - Mark II
It's an odd thing when the absurdity of life strikes you square in the nuts...a second time.
Today at work, I was greeted with this alarming news. Apparently, there is a group known as the Rainbow Family (some 20,000 strong) that is planning an unarmed invasion of Colorado for some Hippie love-fest. Immediately upon hearing this news, I began flashing back to the Die Hippie, Die episode of South Park.
To summarize this episode for my readers - South Park is targeted for a Hippie Music Festival that threatens to overwhelm the tiny mountain town, drowning the citizens in a sea of drum circles, body odor and patchouli. The survival of South Park, and the human race itself depends on the efforts one lone hero - Eric Cartman. Answering (and accepting the charges for) the call of heroism, young Master Cartman forges a Hippie Drill capable of burrowing to the center of the unwashed horde where he harnesses the awesome power of Death Metal to drive back the hippie onslaught that assaults his home.
Now in addition to being "pleasantly plump," I have found that I have several things in common with Master Cartman. I am frequently placed in situations where I need to demand that others "Respect my authority!" I too hate Kyle. And I once made a kid eat his parents...probably shouldn't say any more about that until the statute of limitations runs out...Of course, I believe the tie that binds young Eric and I tightest is our mutual hatred of hippies. Indeed, one of my most prized t-shirts is one boasting the image of Cartman, proclaiming "Screw You, Hippie!"
...Perhaps our greatest variance, however, is my lack of anti-Semitism, my a-anti-Semitism, if you will. I am pretty much the opposite of an anti-Semite. My favorite author (and personal hero), Peter David, is a Jew. The last girl I asked out (bringing the grand total to four) was part Jewish (a demi-Jew if you will). Heck, my boss is a Jewish Carpenter. (Note: This is a metaphor. My boss is actually a Caucasian Program Director.) But I Digress...
I guess you could kind of describe me as an older, bespectacled, pro-Semite Eric Cartman.
That fact having been established, I now find that the honor and responsibility to save the great state of Colorado of these most blessed United States of America from the cancerous growth that...grows within...now falls upon my shoulders. Borrowing from the fictional world that seems to be currently dominating our reality, I have chosen to follow the same path as brave Master Cartman...Behold...
Plan A:
The much beloved Hippie Drill. Guzzling down at least two gallons of gas for every mile, this is, perhaps, the least economically feasible of my plans.
Of course, I realize that things don't always work out as well in real life as on TV, so I have also devised a...
Plan B:
The Idaho Integrated Breaching Shotgun. Imagine a crack squad of patriots, lockstep in a "Flying V" formation (like in the Might Ducks) barreling down on the Hippie hordes with these babies. We'd make it to the center in no time.
While scientists have yet to prove that Hippies are, in fact, still human (I personally contend that they are golems, having lost their souls and merely existing as empty, instinct-driven husks), I realize that some may be squeamish with the previous two options. Therefore, I offer my ultimate solution...
Plan C:
You've heard the old adage, "Fight fire with fire"? Well I'm keeping the "with fire" part and exchanging the first "fire" for "Hippies"...and I'm adding "Panda" in there somewhere.
You wanted something to keep the blood off your hands? I'm giving it to you.
Today at work, I was greeted with this alarming news. Apparently, there is a group known as the Rainbow Family (some 20,000 strong) that is planning an unarmed invasion of Colorado for some Hippie love-fest. Immediately upon hearing this news, I began flashing back to the Die Hippie, Die episode of South Park.
To summarize this episode for my readers - South Park is targeted for a Hippie Music Festival that threatens to overwhelm the tiny mountain town, drowning the citizens in a sea of drum circles, body odor and patchouli. The survival of South Park, and the human race itself depends on the efforts one lone hero - Eric Cartman. Answering (and accepting the charges for) the call of heroism, young Master Cartman forges a Hippie Drill capable of burrowing to the center of the unwashed horde where he harnesses the awesome power of Death Metal to drive back the hippie onslaught that assaults his home.
Now in addition to being "pleasantly plump," I have found that I have several things in common with Master Cartman. I am frequently placed in situations where I need to demand that others "Respect my authority!" I too hate Kyle. And I once made a kid eat his parents...probably shouldn't say any more about that until the statute of limitations runs out...Of course, I believe the tie that binds young Eric and I tightest is our mutual hatred of hippies. Indeed, one of my most prized t-shirts is one boasting the image of Cartman, proclaiming "Screw You, Hippie!"
...Perhaps our greatest variance, however, is my lack of anti-Semitism, my a-anti-Semitism, if you will. I am pretty much the opposite of an anti-Semite. My favorite author (and personal hero), Peter David, is a Jew. The last girl I asked out (bringing the grand total to four) was part Jewish (a demi-Jew if you will). Heck, my boss is a Jewish Carpenter. (Note: This is a metaphor. My boss is actually a Caucasian Program Director.) But I Digress...
I guess you could kind of describe me as an older, bespectacled, pro-Semite Eric Cartman.
That fact having been established, I now find that the honor and responsibility to save the great state of Colorado of these most blessed United States of America from the cancerous growth that...grows within...now falls upon my shoulders. Borrowing from the fictional world that seems to be currently dominating our reality, I have chosen to follow the same path as brave Master Cartman...Behold...
Plan A:
The much beloved Hippie Drill. Guzzling down at least two gallons of gas for every mile, this is, perhaps, the least economically feasible of my plans.
Of course, I realize that things don't always work out as well in real life as on TV, so I have also devised a...
Plan B:
The Idaho Integrated Breaching Shotgun. Imagine a crack squad of patriots, lockstep in a "Flying V" formation (like in the Might Ducks) barreling down on the Hippie hordes with these babies. We'd make it to the center in no time.
While scientists have yet to prove that Hippies are, in fact, still human (I personally contend that they are golems, having lost their souls and merely existing as empty, instinct-driven husks), I realize that some may be squeamish with the previous two options. Therefore, I offer my ultimate solution...
Plan C:
You've heard the old adage, "Fight fire with fire"? Well I'm keeping the "with fire" part and exchanging the first "fire" for "Hippies"...and I'm adding "Panda" in there somewhere.
You wanted something to keep the blood off your hands? I'm giving it to you.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
The Snowman: A Haiku
As part of the communication training I received today, we were also instructed to write a description of a snowman. The intent was to demonstrate the variance between the communication styles of the different personality profiles - one the feeling group wrote a creative story about the snowman hitting on a snowwoman; one of the sensing group wrote a piece lamenting the loss of summer to the freezing onslaught of winter; one of the analytical group wrote a description of a snowman, including size, shape, component structure; etc.
However, after I had read my piece to the group, the instructor told me that my particular description was unclassifiable.
With no further ado, I give you...
However, after I had read my piece to the group, the instructor told me that my particular description was unclassifiable.
With no further ado, I give you...
The Snowman: A Haiku
Run and hide, children
Evil Snowman can't be stopped
Get a flamethrower!
Run and hide, children
Evil Snowman can't be stopped
Get a flamethrower!
Do not taunt the Josh
I have been fairly busy at work for quite some time now and unable to tap away at the old keyboard (professionally or recreationally) as much as I would like. That being said, this week I was luckily able (forced) to attend a company-wide communication workshop that was intended to aid me in not being offensive and being more tolerant of the communication styles of others. As preparation for the event, I (as well as everyone else) was given one of those self-evaluation (pick the one that most describes you) tests.
Over the years, I've taken a number of these tests and have learned to be disappointed with the results. Typically, these things end up classifying you in one of four categories (or if you're lucky, one of eight) that, at least for me, feel that they may describe part of my personality but fail to capture the full glory that is I. In direct contradiction of the immortal words of Tyler Durden, I do believe that I am a unique snowflake and therefore difficult to define.
Imagine my surprise this morning when I was greeted with a 20-page personality analysis that actually did a decent job of portraying the complexities and conflicting impulses that define me. Apparently the Jungian psychological voodoo that they performed on my responses actually worked.
Of course, as I mentioned earlier, the intent of this test was to aid me in my communication efforts, and, in turn, aid others as they communicate with me. Rather than engaging in any type of self-reflection that may lead to increased enlightenment, I prefer to take my more comfortable position of belligerent jackass and instead offer you all some of the more useful tips to employ when you communicate with me.
Okay, maybe I wrote in that last one, but it seemed to be keeping with the theme. And actually, I couldn't pass up this little tidbit either. It's listed under my "blind spots," meaning that it is an aspect of my psyche that I may not be aware of...
Over the years, I've taken a number of these tests and have learned to be disappointed with the results. Typically, these things end up classifying you in one of four categories (or if you're lucky, one of eight) that, at least for me, feel that they may describe part of my personality but fail to capture the full glory that is I. In direct contradiction of the immortal words of Tyler Durden, I do believe that I am a unique snowflake and therefore difficult to define.
Imagine my surprise this morning when I was greeted with a 20-page personality analysis that actually did a decent job of portraying the complexities and conflicting impulses that define me. Apparently the Jungian psychological voodoo that they performed on my responses actually worked.
Of course, as I mentioned earlier, the intent of this test was to aid me in my communication efforts, and, in turn, aid others as they communicate with me. Rather than engaging in any type of self-reflection that may lead to increased enlightenment, I prefer to take my more comfortable position of belligerent jackass and instead offer you all some of the more useful tips to employ when you communicate with me.
Strategies for communicating with Joshua:Of course, the tips of what to do pale in comparison to the tips of what not to do...
- Be consistent.
- Gently remind him of the human dimension.
- Respect his knowledge (of the job).
- Allow time for him to think of the consequences.
- Remember to thank him for his time.
When communicating with Joshua, DO NOT:
- Interrupt him when he is in control.
- Stand or sit too close to him.
- Touch his body or belongings.
- Make direct eye contact or any sudden movements.
Okay, maybe I wrote in that last one, but it seemed to be keeping with the theme. And actually, I couldn't pass up this little tidbit either. It's listed under my "blind spots," meaning that it is an aspect of my psyche that I may not be aware of...
He may rely on personal forcefulness and, if necessary, intimidation to achieve his aims. He tends to be seen by others as dictatorial and can be aggressive in arguing his position.After a sound beating about the head and shoulders with a coffee carafe, the workshop leader agreed to take back that last part...but perhaps I've said too much.
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