Bolshevik

I simultaneously have a problem with authority and a dislike of confrontation. This, as you can imagine, leads me into a spaghetti junction of contradictions as a person, and is probably the core reason why - every now and again - this blog turns into a rant. I don't like ranting to the people I ought to be ranting to, so it all comes out here.

For this, I apologise. If anyone actually read this, I'd apologise doubly, perhaps while wearing some sort of punitive vegetable on my head.

But is it too much to ask that our authority figures not be complete morons? Skimming lightly over a Government so shallow that it makes policy based on TV documentaries, why do so many of us get stuck with senior colleagues with no management or leadership skills, whose main job is to lead and manage. Did the people who in turn appointed them get their idea of the world by watching the henchmen of evil villains on old TV shows?

"What I really need is a right-hand man who is so monumentally dim that they will never challenge my authority, but will - through their fucking massive incompetence - inadvertently scupper every plan I ever have to rule the world or, possibly, catch that pigeon."

Yes. That must be it. There's probably an ILM course about it.

This is all very well if you're a fictional character who must be clever enough to hatch plausible stabs at planetary domination, but can't actually ever succeed. If you're running a medium sized organisation I'm less clear of exactly what benefit you derive from giving out top jobs to the mentally enfeebled or those so far up their own bottoms you could use them as a bowling ball. How do we think Fred Goodwin happened? He must have started somewhere, like Ebola.

I count myself stupendously lucky that I couldn't possibly say any of these things about my actual colleagues. They are universally spiffing. Oh yes.