Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Tom, Dick, and Harry

I make no attempt to mask my absolute dislike for corporate gyan. Nay, make that abhorrence. I could never understand for the life of me why anyone would ever spew away so many hours of their lives penning down literature on the subject. More than that, it completely boggles me why anyone should choose to read those books. Ever! I mean, did your mom drop you on the head or something?

Talking of kid-dropping parents, what really goes through their minds when they come up with names for their offspring? Goldie. Dick. Chandi. Shanna. Seriously. The kid has to go through her entire life with that name. What were they thinking? Perhaps the same thing that they were while conceiving the baby - nothing, for had they put that cranium through its paces they would have used birth control.

Not everyone is born with the intellect of Einstein. That said, not everyone needs the intellect of Einstein. You would not want someone rattling on about the Schroedinger Wave Equation when you are on a date. Unless you are in the habit of dating people like that in which case you must re-evaluate your lifestyle choices. Either way, with all the technology of internet search engines at our disposal is 'Guy' the best we can come up with for a boy's name? Jeez!

The most famous bard could say 'What's in a name' and get away with it. Writers tend to get away with a lot. Besides, 400 years ago there was not much in anything let alone a name. Except in the gunpowder treason. That had an idea behind it, an idea so strong that it became the foundation of modern day democracy. And please! Not those mutilated versions that US presidents have passed down through generations.

We live in very shallow times. What you can pass off as your own is of the essence. Basically it makes more sense to own the keys to a Ferrari and not the Ferrari itself. Kinda hard to flash the car inside a restaurant. Oh my God! I finally got it - the true depth of the message of 'The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari'. Sell the Ferrari, but as long as you still have a set of its keys you can remain a part of that pseudo intellectual socialite crowd.

See what I mean? I never had to read the book to understand its message. In a nutshell, that is what corporate gyan is all about. No one understands it, not even the CEO who spreads it around.

10 comments:

Aran said...

Did you know B. F. Skinner is Burrhus Frederic Skinner? I got to know just yesterday and since then I've been feeling so sorry for the poor guy.

Script Writer said...

Sorry? You should thump the parents on the head for that!

Anonymous said...

They're dead.

Script Writer said...

Dig the graves up! Take a baseball bat, swing it hard on their skulls.

Anonymous said...

No, thank you. I'll leave the skull-bashing to the man with the spade in his dispay pic.

Script Writer said...

Ah, that would be me?

Anonymous said...

Yes, genius.

Script Writer said...

Yay, I am a genius!

Anonymous said...

You got that one very easily. :p

Script Writer said...

Of course, genius that I am!