Alexis' PowerPoints were her shoulder pads ...

Don't Panic - take a deep breath ...

On getting to work this morning, I heard the word Outbreak - hit the PANIC button - not yet really.

It was that rogue Blaster worm from a PC that should never have been connected to our network. The lucky culprit was spared a verbal from me - well we are quite well patched up against that one threat, but it could still be a nuisance.

Allow the C(?)O to think

Remember your first picture book and wax crayons, when you had to colour in all those white spaces to create your own lively work of art? Thinking pristine thoughts, ideas flourishing, creative juices flowing like water off the lip of the Niagara Falls.

At least at that age you did all the work, by being creative and possibly artistic.

However, look what the world has turned into, you have been through kindergarten, primary and secondary education, have some hot degree and an MBA from the top business school; having reached the pinnacle with Chief(?)Officer as your title, the people who report to you bring you a weekly picture book in PowerPoint.

You do not have to do anything; rather, they have to explain what all the pictures mean to you - by Jove! All those years of experience in a career to be rated just below the intelligence of a toddler.

Because, because, because, because, because ... your reports are playing the game of who is the teacher's favourite kid.

Rotten Powerpoints

PowerPoints are just as bad as what was unleashed on us by Japanese Karaoke, garish colours [as toneless singers yodelling worse than a track on the Sound of Music] with every imaginable transition enough to hypnotise you into thinking you are getting informed. A visit to the shop floor would tell you what your reports have been keeping from all the while.

The staff are not the happy smiley lot who say hello in the elevator trying hard to keep from telling you are they overworked, underpaid, under-motivated and continually lied to by your reports who would have a fit if integrity were ever mentioned in three paragraphs after you mention their names.

The Utopia of top-down communication does not exist, however, under the influence of a PowerPoint the fainting spells created by the sycophancy that masquerades as loyal obedience would make you need a defibrillator to hear the WHOLE TRUTH.

How does this all affect me?

I have to fill in time sheets in duplicate, reports in triplicate, PowerPoints in duo-decagate (sic) in 12s, I meant, and still inform you of the incidents, projects, unexpected failures and resolve them all before close of business.

Phew! The day has only begun; even the sun has got its hat on.