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About Dr. StrangeJob

If you want to know what happens when the Peter Principle collides with Kurt Vonnegut and Stanley Kubrick then you found the right place.

CBLA-InComps Episode Zero – The Writer’s Cut

Note: This is the original version of Episode 1 – The Port Menace. I prefer this version because it is actually closer to my own sense of humor. The final cut missed the plot absurdity, Doc Spinolee, and reference to some local characters.

*****

“Don’t press that button,” shouted Madi, “we’re in the wrong building!”

Too late! Rather than releasing CBRM’s confidential Port documents into public waters, Dr. StrangeJob dumped CBRM’s excess sewage into Sydney Harbor.

It was supposed to be a simple plan: Break into City Hall, find the confidential Sydney Port documents, and release the files to the public. What could go wrong?

… but then again it was the group’s inaugural mission

Their mandate: To save Cape Breton. Incompetence runs rampant in all areas of the beloved Island especially the political, educational, and business sectors. Cape Breton is in near ruins as a result of incompetence. Without action, this could be the end of Cape Breton as we know it.

The Cape Breton Liberation Army – Intelligence and Competence Squad (CBLA-InComps) formed to strike at the heart of incompetence. CBLA-InComps will become Cape Breton’s freedom revolutionaries bringing transparency, integrity, and honesty back to the good citizens of Cape Breton.

CBLA-InComps first mission focused on transparency issues raised by many CBRM residents concerning a proposed multi-billion dollar container port shrouded in secrecy, exclusivity contracts, backroom deals, non-disclosure agreements, and in camera meetings. Believing that good decisions must also be informed decisions, CBLA-InComps sought to release all secret port documents to the CBRM citizenry for public scrutiny. What Snowden was to the CIA, the CBLA-InComps would be to CBRM.

… but something went wrong. Something went very, very wrong with the mission!

Under cover of night, the CBLA-InComps team mistakenly broke into the local sewage treatment facility assuming that they were sneaking into City Hall. It was an honest mistake. Ali, an international student studying engineering and global positioning systems (GPS) at the local university, volunteered to lead the team to their assigned target. English was Ali’s second language, so he may have taken Dr. StrangeJob’s directive too literally when asked to, “get us into the big building on the waterfront where we can release all the shit we can find on the Port file.”

It wasn’t all Ali’s fault. As the leader of the group, Dr. StrangeJob should have known he was in the wrong building. Unfortunately, the Doctor doesn’t get out much and has no sense of direction. In fact, the last time he was in the actual city hall dated back to the mid-70’s when the drunk tank was housed in the basement. Also, Ziggy, the group’s techie, had warned the Doctor that if he couldn’t find hard copies of the Port files, he would need to take a dump – it did kind of smell as he was in the right place.

Madi, the group’s Chief of Intellectual Guerilla Activities (IGA) and Interim Communications Office (ICO), first realised they were in the wrong building. Madi has a tendency of putting her contact lenses in the wrong eyes. Fortunately, her poor vision had heightened her remaining senses so that the pungent smell of the sewage and the excessive noise of the machinery alerted her that they were in the wrong building, but alas, it was too late.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” shouted Dr. StrangeJob as he, Madi, and Ali bolted from the sewage treatment plant and stumbled through the dark on their way back to the getaway car.

Con was appointed getaway driver because she happened to have a car, a valid driver’s licence, and lots of gas (the car that is, but then again, she is a 93-year-old vegan). No traffic cop in their right mind would suspect anything nefarious from a 93-year-old recently retired schoolteacher. Still, as an extra precaution, the three defenders of political transparency travelled back to CBLA-InComps headquarters stowed away in the trunk of Con’s Pinto. It was a bumpy ride.

“So, did you get the files,” asks Con, as the three bruised and battered passengers climbed from the trunk of the car.

“No, we broke into the sewage plant by mistake and released the excess sewage into the harbour”, explains Dr. StrangeJob as he fills Con in on the details.

“So, that explains the stink then,” replies Con, holding fingers to her nose.

“No, that smell has more to do with the three of us being scared shitless while stuck in thed trunk of your car,” the Doctor replies. “BTW, next time please be more careful driving over potholes and railroad tracks.”

Dr. StrangeJob then asks Madi to call the CBLA-InComps executive to an emergency debriefing meeting and rushes off to the nearest bathroom.

*****

To maintain secrecy and avoid suspicion, the CBLA-InComps hold their clandestine meetings at various coffee shops throughout the area. The George Street TimBits, for example, is so noisy that the group is relatively safe from any form of eavesdropping. The CBLA-InComps executive members huddle inconspicuously in a corner booth, meticulously camouflaged as a group of 12 steppers holding an after-meeting group discussion. Just another bunch of anonymous caffeine addicts gobbling sugar treats.

In attendance are Dr. StrangeJob, Ali, Madi, Ziggy, Con, and Doc Spinolee (retired professor and intellect of the group).

“Let’s open our meeting with a moment of silence followed by the Competency Prayer,” whispers Dr. StrangeJob, as those around the table silently nibble on timbits.

The executive quietly mumbles in unison, “The Competency Prayer:  Grant me the patience to deal with the incompetent that cannot or will not change, the courage to challenge those that can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“Well, at least we can say we raised a bit of stink on our first mission,” jokes Dr. Strangejob, “but      seriously, we could find ourselves in a pile of crap if they pin this on us.”

“Maybe we should just wait for the whole thing to blow over,” suggests Ali.

“No, we need to be proactive and make sure this doesn’t stick to us,” says Con.

“I’ve got an idea,” says Doc Spinolee. “Has anyone seen the story in the Spectacle about cruise ships dumping sewage waste outside of the ports they are visiting?”

“Is the Spectacle that online blog everyone down at City Hall talks about?” asks Ali.

“No, the Spectacle is not a blog! The Spectacle and the LocalXpose are the only real journalists left in this place.” exclaims Madi.

“Ok folks, let’s stay focused,” says Dr. Strangejob and asks Doc Spinolee to continue.

“Well, I was walking along the harbour last evening and noticed that the cruise ship docked in town was owned by a company fined for dumping waste,” explains Spinolee, “and perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”

“That might work,” suggests Madi, “especially if we use social media to get the word out that the cruise ship caused the stink.”

“Good plan. Let’s use Twitter and Facebook to draw attention to both the Spectacle story, and the fact there is a cruise ship in town owned by a company charged with dumping waste,” suggests Ali.

“Right, then anyone who complains about the stink would infer that it was because the cruise ship dumped their waste in the harbour,” agrees Zippy.

Doc Spinolee, obviously upset over the current proposal declares, “No! it would not be ethical for us to misinform the public. We are not the Mayor’s office.”

“I agree with Spinolee on this one,” states Dr. StrangeJob, “but maybe we can still use the idea somehow.”

“Wait, I think I have it!” exclaims StrangeJob. “Let’s do the Twitter and Facebook thing, but only target sites we know are monitored by City Hall. If City Hall gets wind that citizens are raising further stink over the port file, then they will sick their “If not the Port then what else” team on it. That should keep them distracted until the stink blows over.

“That might just work,” suggests Madi, “but to be safe, let’s expand our communication team and bring in extra help on the social media side. Does anyone know Sir Joe Spamsalot?

… two days later

The plan worked. City Hall’s Secretary of Disinformation took the bait and announced plans to investigate the source of odours emanating from the local garbage dump. As reported in the local rag, The Caper Post-Truth, an excess of compost and unseasonably warm temperatures caused the odour. When contacted at a speaking engagement in China, the Mayor emphasised that the odours were not Port related and mumbled something about not taking anymore crap from the cheap seats.

It looks like the CBLA-InComp are off the hook on this one. Or are they?

… news flash

Snoopy, an intrepid investigative reporter from the Spectacle, contacted Dr. StrangeJob. City Hall’s Secretary of Disinformation, Ms. Lied-Toomey, inadvertently added Snoopy to a private email list that circulated a security camera photo of a sewage caper suspect. Although not a member of the CBLA-InComps, Snoopy is familiar with the group and tracked the original photo to Dr. StrangeJob’s Facebook page. Smelling a scoop, she challenges Dr. StrangeJob to confirm or deny his involvement.

… to be continued (?)

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Competence is our final frontier. Join the farce and support the journey of the CBLA-InComps. Their mission: to expel incompetence, to seek out the competent, and to boldly go where Caper heroes have gone before. We are legion. We know who you are. We are going to the legion.

Cape Breton Independence & CBLA-InComps

The Cape Breton independence movement suffered a serious setback in 1846 (yes, we have been talking about independence for at least 171 years) when the Privy Council decreed that the inhabitants of Cape Breton were not permitted to establish their own government. Why? Because by the latter part of the 19th century, 40% of the provincial income consisted of royalties from Cape Breton coal mines. Yes, the mainland has been bleeding our Island dry for quite some time.

After listening to local historian Jim St. Claire discuss Cape Breton independence on CBC’s Information Morning, it struck me that not only does Cape Breton have a long history of being screwed over by mainland politicians, but also that the Island’s own politicians have done little to support the cause. Halifax is becoming a boom town while Cape Breton suffers in poverty: children commit suicide, emergency rooms close, population declines, schools shutter, poverty increases, drug use escalates. Meanwhile, our local politicians smile all the way to the bank.

Cape Breton independence has been discussed across the island from beer halls to academic institutions. Heck, even Wikipedia has an entry dealing with the 2000 movement for an independent Province of Cape Breton.

In 1846, privy was an adjective for council, but privy is also a noun for toilet, and it’s time to flush. Capers must rise again and demand fair treatment from the province, but who will take up the mantle to make Cape Breton great again?

The CBLA-InComps are willing to do whatever it takes to protect our island. They are a meek non-violent group whose plan is to use social media and creative civil disobedience to shed light on injustices plaguing our island. Although “seeing the light” can be an effective motivator, CBLA-InComps believe that a combination of “seeing the light” and “feeling the heat” works even better. Shame is a great motivator, especially if votes are at stake.

CBLA-InComps first mission was not a success and did not raise the stink that it had hoped, but the group is determined to continue the good fight. Stay tuned for the new serialised Foibles and Follies of CBLA-InComps coming soon to a social media inbox near you.

Dr. StrangeJob

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One Gaffe at a Time – Step 5

Step 5: Admitted to senior management, to HR, and to all fellow employees the exact nature of their wrongs.

My Incompetence Anonymous (IA) recovery process is taking too dam long. The initial plan was to whip through two or three steps a week, declare myself cured, and start a speaking tour. Six months later and I am still working on Step 5 without a book deal in sight. There has to be a better way.

I am doing everything I am supposed to do, hell, I even took the geographical cure. For the uninitiated, a geographical cure involves moving to a new city, town, country, or hemisphere with the promise of a fresh start free of incompetence. In my case, I didn’t technically move but simply stopped travelling to work. By not going to work, I eliminated exposure to the clear majority of incompetence in my life.

I did, however, find completing the resentments inventory rather easy. I mean, how difficult is it to list all of the people, places, and things from your past that did not live up to your expectations or treat you as expected. Hell, I have been developing that list for years. I have always been ready to remove all defective characters standing in my way and can honestly say that I don’t hold resentments to any of those assholes I used to work for.

Keep in mind that Step 5 may be the last chance you get to impress your peers with all of the crazy stuff you did when you were an active incompetent. Agreeing to go to a few meetings may be worth the price of a free pass for all of that shit you got away with as a practicing incompetent. It’s like being assigned “special projects” status at work. Everyone knows you messed up, but your friends in power keep you on the payroll anyway.

Sure, it can be tough sharing a moral inventory with another human being, especially when they start crying after meticulously listing their deficiencies. I even had someone take a swing at me for telling them what their spouse was really up to on meeting nights. Apparently, their spouse fell for an initiation prank dealing with the need to give it away in order to keep it, but hey, I almost fell for that one myself.

Still, I need to find a more efficient way to finish up these steps. Perhaps I will take the advice of an AA friend who found themselves in a similar situation. They declared themselves agnostic and stated that any AA step concerning a higher power was not applicable to their individualized recovery and eliminated seven of AA’s twelve steps. I wonder how many IA steps I can eliminate if I declare myself competent?

Ok, perhaps, maybe, I could be missing the point of Step 5.  After all, we are not cured of incompetence. What we have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our competent condition. I will continue to keep coming back one gaffe at a time.

Dr. StrangeJob

Future columns will discuss my continued journey through the IA recovery process. Until then, feel free to view the inaugural IA meeting, learn about Incompetents Anonymous, read the Audacity Prayer and 12+1 Steps, or become familiar with IA’s additional support groups.

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Russians interfere in Cape Breton provincial election!

I knew my election campaign was in trouble on election day when I noticed that my name was not on the ballot for Premier of Cape Breton. First, they shut me out of the CBRM mayoralty race and now this! Apparently, it’s quite alright to leave a candidate’s name on the ballot even if their party has disowned them, or to also allow somebody to temporarily vote for nobody, but hey, try to protect Cape Breton from those Halifax bureaucrats and you’re toast. What a travesty.

Who to blame for this miscarriage of justice? Perhaps I should follow the lead of defeated Cabinet Minister Joanne Bernard and blame puppies and rainbows. Heck, I might as well blame the Russians. Come to think of it: maybe it was the Russians. After all, the sinister forces at play in NS politics have striking similarities to the US presidential election.

Do you remember staying up late watching the US presidential election? You probably went to bed assured that Clinton was the victor but woke to discover that Trump was the new president. That was the Russians. Same thing happened here. We went to bed with the NDP holding a balance of power and woke up to a Liberal majority. Those sneaky Russians fixed both the US and the Nova Scotia elections while we slept.

Still, I would like to thank the 2,123 constituents forced to spoil their ballot because Dr. StrangeJob’s name was not on the list. Fortunately, my campaign team managed to get the word out to my remaining voter base in time to save them the trouble of actually showing up to vote. Too bad though, because Dr. StrangeJob would be the new Premier if his 345,267 dedicated followers had actually shown up to vote.

That is correct, 345,267 eligible voters (46.12% of potential voters) did not cast a ballot.

In contrast, the Liberals received a measly 158,384 votes.

So there you have it, a Liberal majority government supported by roughly 21% of the province’s eligible voters because Dr. StrangeJob was not on the ballot.

Some of the local Cape Breton races were real nail-biters. Did you notice that Liberal incumbents Geoff Maclellan and Derek Monbouquette were poised to lose their seats until well after midnight? That’s right, the Russians managed to turf three liberal incumbents and scare the bejesus out of MacLellan and Mombourquette while many of us slept soundly thinking we were free from Bill 75 and Bill 148.

Democracy spoke and a message was sent, but was it received? All newly elected Cape Breton MLAs, regardless of party, should heed that warning. Capers, descendants of coal miners, steel workers, and labourers, are upset with the state of our economy, health care and education systems. Politicians need to remember where they came from, who their constituents are, and support our island rather than Halifax centric policies. Otherwise, they may find yourself going to bed late one evening dreaming of puppies and rainbows only to wake with a rabid pack of pit bulls and chain-lightning striking at your heels.

Dr. StrangeJob vows to defend the 79% of eligible voters that did not directly support the new government. In fact, I already have a plan for my next campaign. It is too early to make these plans public, but suffice it to say that in Canada, a premier represents the head of government for a province or territory and the word premier is a synonym for Prime Minister.

Dr. StrangeJob is a satirical blogger, former systems analyst, retired educator, social activist, creator of Incompetents Anonymous, and interim-leader of the CBLA-InComps.

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Learn more about Dr. StrangeJob at www.drstrangejob.ca

Dr. StrangJob @ the movies

I was having a friendly chitchat with my neighbour when he unexpectedly changed topics stating, “I hate to change the subject but –.”  Uh oh was my initial thought, making a mental note that my cats have recently started spending more time outside and less time in their litter boxes. I prepared myself for a discussion on cat shit when my neighbour continued, “I saw you in that video about the homeless guy.  Great song, great video.”  Well, that was a surprise.

The music video A Brand New Day” is from local singer/songwriter Sheldon O’Neill and directed by Kenn Crawford. The tune is from Sheldon’s forthcoming album.

I also had a blink and you will miss me walk-on role in an earlier video by Kenn Crawford playing an Alzheimer’s patient. The short film The Battle Within is a touching film about the ravages of Alzheimer’s Disease.

The shoot for The Battle Within took place at a local senior’s health care complex and one of the actors recently confessed they assumed I was a resident of the complex at the time of the filming. I started to worry about being typecast and decided to discuss my concerns with Kenn. I was assured that I was not being typecast but rather that I just look the part. Not sure what my next video role will be, but I am guessing it will not be a romantic lead.

Check out Kenn’s other films and videos.

Dr. StrangeJob

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Learn more about Dr. StrangeJob at www.drstrangejob.ca

CBLA-InComps: Episode 1 – The Port Menace

“With the press of this button,” Dr. StrangeJob declares, “we will bring transparency, integrity, and honesty back to the good citizens of Cape Breton.”

“Make sure you press the right button,” shouts Madi, but her warning came too late. Rather than releasing CBRM’s confidential Port documents into public waters, Dr. StrangeJob dumped CBRM’s excess sewage into Sydney Harbor.

It was supposed to be a simple plan: Break into City Hall, find the confidential Sydney Port documents, and release the files to the public. What could go wrong?

… but then again it was the group’s inaugural mission.

Their mandate: To save Cape Breton. Incompetence runs rampant in all areas of the beloved Island. The truth may be out there, but the truth is not being shared with the citizens of Cape Breton. The island needs a new type of superhero, a group of truth avengers, guardians of the Cape Breton galaxy.

In the mould of heroes past and with the goal of futures pleasant, Dr. StrangeJob formed the Cape Breton Liberation Army – Intelligence and Competence Squad (CBLA-InComps). InComps first mission focused on transparency issues involving a proposed multi-billion dollar container port shrouded in secrecy, exclusivity contracts, backroom deals, non-disclosure agreements, and in camera meetings. Their goal was to release all of the municipality’s secret port documents to the citizenry.

… but something went wrong. Something went very, very wrong with the mission!

*****

Dr. StrangeJob, Madi, Ali, and Psycho Sam attended the evening Council meeting as planned. On cue, just prior to the meeting’s closing prayer, the InComps left the Council Chambers to hide in the washrooms until closing time. It is now 2:00 a.m. and all is clear.

“OK, it’s time to break into the Mayor’s office and get those files,” says Dr. StrangeJob, “put on your masks and follow me.” The Doctor, looking like an ageing hippie in a salt ‘n pepper cap, leads the group to the Mayor’s office, enters the four-digit security code, and heads directly to the Mayor’s desk.

“Damn, I thought I was here to break down the door,” says Psycho Sam, the Squad’s Communication officer with a secretive military past and penchant for blowing things up.

“No, you’re here because I told mum that I would keep you out of trouble,” says Dr. StrangeJob.

“How did you know which office was the Mayor’s and where did you get the security code?” asks Madi, the group’s Chief of Intellectual Guerrilla Activities (IGA).

“I will explain that later, but let’s just say that we have a friend at City Hall,” says Dr. StrangeJob, pulling a hidden lever from behind the Mayor’s desk. The inside mole had provided the Doctor with the Mayor’s office number, security code, and location of the hidden lever, but they did not prepare the group for what happened next.

The Mayor’s entire desktop transformed into a Star Trekish computer console complete with buttons, levers, and dials. We’re not talking Star Trek Beyond console, not even Next Generation technology, more like something from the 60’s TV version: control centre for all things CBRM.

“Holy dipswitch!” exclaims Dr. StrangeJob. “So, that’s what she meant by the Mayor’s control,” letting it slip that the inside mole was female.

“It’s up to you, Ali,” says Dr. StrangeJob. “It was my job to get us to this point, but it’s your job to get the data and then get us out of the building.”

Ali, the youngest member of the InComps Squad, is an international ESL student who has been conditionally accepted by the university to study computer technology and GPS. Dr. StrangeJob had specifically recruited Ali because the mission required someone with GPS expertise. The Doctor is not technically inclined, doesn’t get out much at night, and has no sense of direction. In fact, the last time the Doctor was in City Hall after dark was in the mid-70’s when the drunk tank was in the basement.

Ali stared at the console panic-eyed and speechless. His ESL training was still in the basic conversational phase, and his computer classes did not start until next week.

“We have fifteen minutes before the guard’s next round,” says Dr. StrangeJob to Ali, “so where do I put the thumb drive and what button do I press to download the files?”

“Let’s just blow the damn thing up and get the hell out of here,” shouts Psycho Sam.

“Keep your act together Sam.” says Madi. “Did you take too much Ritalin again?”

“Stop bickering you two! There are only ten minutes before the guard returns,” says Dr. StrangeJob, making a mental note to check his little brother’s prescription in the morning.

Ali, still speechless, fumbles at the console and points to a USB slot in the center of the desk. Dr. StrangeJob inserts a USB thumb drive. Ali continues to decipher the cryptic messages displayed next to the buttons, levers, and nobs.

“Eight minutes,” says Dr. StrangeJob.

Ali locates two buttons in the top corner of the console: one labelled “File Dump” and the other “Port Dump”.  Knowing he was on the right track, Ali pulled out his smartphone to cross-reference dump on his language translator.

“Seven minutes,” says Dr. StrangeJob.  “Hurry up Ali! Time is running out.”

“It’s one of these,” says Ali, pointing to the two buttons, “but I am not sure which is the right one.”

Dr. StrangeJob, his view of the console obscured by his Guy Fawkes mask, makes his best split-second informed decision and presses a button.

Madi was the first to realise that Dr. StrangeJob pressed the wrong button. Myoptic and prone to inserting her contact lenses into the wrong eyes, Madi’s poor vision had heightened her remaining senses. The pungent smell of the sewage suddenly spewing into the nearby harbour alerted her to their mistake.

“You pressed the wrong button,” shouts Madi.

“Holy crap!” exclaims Dr. StrangeJob, not fully realising the significance of his choice of words. “Hey Sam, text Miss Mackie and tell her to meet us out back with the car ASAP. Let’s head to Tim’s for a meeting and sort this shit out.”

Ali, using his GPS phone app, led the group through the building, avoiding security and reaching the back exit just as Miss Mackie roared into the parking lot.

Miss Mackie was appointed getaway driver because she happened to have a car, a valid driver’s licence, and lots of gas (the car that is, but then again, she is a 73-year-old vegan). No traffic cop in their right mind would suspect anything nefarious from a 73-year-old recently retired schoolteacher. At least that was the thought. Still, as an extra precaution, the four defenders of political transparency travelled to Tim’s stowed in the trunk of Miss Mackie’s Pinto. It was a bumpy ride.

Miss Mackie had just turned onto George Street when she heard the siren and saw the flashing lights of the police car in her rear-view mirror. Officer Richard Less had noticed the slow-moving low-riding Pinto on Townsend Street and decided to pull the vehicle over.

Dr. StrangeJob, on the other hand, was wishing he had used the washroom before he got into the trunk of Miss Mackie’s car.

Miss Mackie pulled the Pinto over to the side of the road and watched as Officer Less exited his vehicle and strutted to her car window seductively caressing the grip of his revolver. Richard had watched one too many Dirty Harry movies.

“Licence and vehicle permit please,” says Officer Richard.

“Why did you pull me over?” Miss Mackie sternly asks.

“You are driving pretty low on the back end. Perhaps I should take a look in the trunk,” replies Officer Richard.

“Thanks for bringing that to my attention, but I am in a bit of a hurry,” says Miss Mackie.

“Ma’am, this is a safety issue, and I insist,” retorts Officer Richard stepping back two paces from the Pinto while releasing the clasp from his holster. He was in full Dirty Harry mode.

Miss Mackie gave him the stare that only a 73-year-old retired teacher can, but then smiled slowly as she recognised Officer Richard.

“What was your name again?” asks Miss Mackie.

“Officer Richard Less,” replies Richard.

“I remember you. I taught you grade six about 20 years ago,” says Miss Mackie, “except you went by the name Dick back then.”

“So, Officer Dick Less,” smiles Miss Mackie, “Thank you for your concern and have a good day. I will be sure to mention to your mother what an excellent Officer you have become.”

Officer Less deflated, remembering his sixth-grade teacher with fear and knowing she was not to be messed with.

“Yes ma’am, you have a great day,” says Officer Less, sheepishly handing back her licence while skulking back to the patrol car.

Miss Mackie continued to their destination and parked the Pinto behind Tim Hortons on George Street.

“So, did you get the files?” asks Miss Mackie, as the four bruised and battered passengers climbed from the trunk of the car.

“No, my numbnuts brother pressed the wrong button and released excess sewage from the water treatment plant into the harbour,” says Psycho Sam.

“So, that explains the stink,” replies Miss Mackie, waving her hand across her nose.

“No, that smell has more to do with the four of us being scared shitless stuck in the trunk of your car,” the Doctor replies, rushing into Tim’s heading straight to the washroom.

*****

To maintain secrecy and avoid suspicion, InComps hold their clandestine meetings at various coffee shops throughout the area. The George Street Tim Hortons, for example, is so noisy that the group is relatively safe from any form of eavesdropping. The InComps huddle inconspicuously in a corner booth, meticulously camouflaged as a group of 12 steppers holding an after-meeting group discussion. Just another bunch of anonymous caffeine addicts gobbling sugar treats.

“Well, at least we can say we raised a bit of stink on our first mission.” jokes Dr. Strangejob, trying to lighten the mood of the group. “But seriously, this was a colossal f#@&-up! What do we do now?”

“Maybe we should just wait for the whole thing to blow over,” suggests Madi.

“Let’s blow some shit up as a diversion,” suggests Psycho Sam.

“No, we need to take responsibility for our actions. We cannot become like those we fight against,” says Ali.

Just as Dr. StrangeJob was about to speak, his phone started playing The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. A look of trepidation came over his face—that ringtone was assigned to only three of his contacts and he knew that InComps’ future would be determined by the outcome of the conversation. He excuses himself and steps outside to take the call, hoping it’s the good, fearing it’s the ugly, but expecting the bad.

The group silently watches the Doctor through the window. They can tell by his expression that something serious is about to happen.

Dr. StrangeJob returns to the table. He sits and stares quietly at each member of the group, searching for the words he knows he must speak.

“I take full responsibility for the mission’s failure.”

“I will turn myself in.”

“The InComps will need to find a new leader.”

… to be continued (?)

secure cam

Competence is our final frontier. Join the farce and support the journey of the CBLA-InComps. Their mission: to expel incompetence, to seek out the competent, and to boldly go where Caper heroes have gone before. We are legion. We know who you are. We are going to the Legion.

Dr. StrangeJob

Find Dr. StrangeJob on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/drstrangejob
Follow Dr. StrangeJob on Twitter at https://twitter.com/drstrangejob
Learn more about Dr. StrangeJob at www.drstrangejob.ca

CBLA-InComps: Born to Bother

If not for the Cape Breton Liberation Army (CBLA), then there would be no Dr. StrangeJob. My admiration for the CBLA dates back to the Old Trout Funnies comics of the 70’s and 80’s. The CBLA were the Cape Breton heroes of my youth, lampooning Cape Breton culture and satirically leaving no political stone unturned. The budding Dr. StrangeJob would anxiously await each new CBLA edition and prominently display each next to his equally coveted collections of National Lampoon and MAD Magazine.

Recently, the CBLA was revived in the comedic musical extravaganza The Return of the Cape Breton Liberation Army. It is no surprise to Dr. StrangeJob that the CBLA has been resurrected in our current times. The once thriving island of Cape Breton is a mere shadow of its former self. Incompetence runs rampant in virtually all areas of the beloved island including the political, educational, and business sectors. Unless action is taken, this could be the end of Cape Breton as we know it.

In the mould of heroes past and the goal of futures pleasant, Dr. StrangeJob formed the Cape Breton Liberation Army – Intelligence and Competence Squad (CBLA-InComps). Although not formally affiliated with the CBLA, there have been official sightings of original CBLA members howling at the moon with Dr. StrangeJob at a recent Incompetents Anonymous meeting.

InComps emphasises brain over brawn with a focus on the effective use of social media to simultaneously encourage competence and discourage incompetence. Underlying all InCompts strategic initiatives is the premise that although seeing the light is an effective motivator, a combination of seeing the light and feeling the heat works even better. It is no coincidence that Cape Breton Island is the birthplace to both Incompetents Anonymous and the CBLA-InComps.

Competence is our final frontier. Join the farce and support the journey of the CBLA-InComps. Our mission: to expel incompetence, to seek out the competent, and to boldly go where few Caper heroes have gone before. We are legion. We know who you are. We are going to the Legion.

Read CBLA-InComps: Episode 1 – The Port Menace, the first in a series of short stories dealing with the exploits of the CBLA-InComps. InComps’ first mission focuses on transparency issues involving a proposed multi-billion dollar container port shrouded in secrecy, exclusivity contracts, backroom deals, non-disclosure agreements, and in camera meetings. Their goal will be to release all of the municipality’s secret port documents to the citizenry. Yes, the group is hoping to raise a little stink.

Dr. StrangeJob

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One Gaffe at a Time – Step 4

Step 4: Made a directive that all minions turn their will and lives over to management care. 

My sponsor, Donald D., is pleased with my 12+1 Step progress and was particularly delighted with the reversal of character and wordy transformations pondered during Step 3 of my recovery. Unfortunately, Step 4 may be a tougher challenge, especially considering Step 4 may require competent minions to turn their will and lives over to incompetent managers.

The Peter Principle states that all employees in a hierarchy tend to rise to their level of incompetence. Hence, the higher up the corporate ladder you look, the more likely to find incompetent managers. I refer to this as Ladder Fatigue: the further up an organisational ladder a competent employee climbs, multiplied by the length of time in the senior position, the less likely the individual will remain competent. Although a functional addict can still be a competent worker, the concept of a “functional incompetent” is an oxymoron. Would it be oxymoronic to expect a competent minion to turn their will and life over to an incompetent supervisor?

Step 4 inspired Dr. StrangeJob’s theory of osmosis-moronus—the process of becoming a moron through assimilation. Osmosis-moronus has proven a key factor in the proliferation of incompetent bureaucracies. The adage that one rotten apple can ruin the whole bushel is scientifically proven. Speaking of oxymora, it is my unbiased opinion that the common abnormality with the systematic chaos involving civil servants has brought me to the partial conclusion that I am absolutely unsure how we got into this fine mess. But it does explain absent minded career politicians that are clearly confused and deafeningly silent when discussing corporate ethics. Need I say more?

For every yin there is a yang, and for every incompetent manager, there is a competent employee just waiting to be found. Competence, although rare, can have a positive effect on an incompetent environment, a process the Doctor refers to as reverse-osmosis-moronus. Fortunately, working the Steps of IA may thwart osmosis-moronus as you search for the ultimate higher power of true competence. Step 4 provides hope and a mission to expel incompetence, to seek out the competent, and to boldly go where senior managers have rarely gone before. Join the search for the Competence of your understanding, but be forewarned, we are never truly cured of incompetence. What we have is a daily reprieve, contingent on the maintenance of our competent condition.

Step 4 may sound a bit preachy, but then again, I should never generalise. It may be my least favourite step but it is not a real phony. It is a sure bet or definite maybe that it could be a deliberate mistake or planned serendipity that this bittersweet post makes an honest liar of me. Or maybe I am just being oxy-moronic.  

Future columns will discuss my continued journey through the IA recovery process. Until then, feel free to view the inaugural IA meeting, learn about Incompetents Anonymous, read the Audacity Prayer and 12+1 Steps, or become familiar with IA’s additional support groups.

Dr. StrangeJob

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Ode to D.J. and the drunk tank – it’s still about black and white

That police man said, “Mister Cool, if you ain’t drunk, then you’re a fool.”
I said, “If that’s against the law, then tell me why I never saw a man locked in that jail of yours who wasn’t just as lowdown poor as me?” – Kris Kristofferson

Listening to The Best of all Possible Worlds by Kris Kristofferson always reminds me of an old friend and the night we received free lodgings courtesy of the local police constabulary. Although we were both in an illegal state of mind at the time, I believe it was the song, actually me paraphrasing the song to a police officer, that resulted in our overnight stay in the drunk tank.

D.J. and I were having a few at his place and ran out of mix and munchies. We should have called it a night, but we foolheartedly decided to take our last drinks, plus a few doobies, for a walk to the corner store for pop and snacks. On route, we stopped at a nearby park for a break but stayed until we finished our drinks and joints. At that point, we decided to call it a night and head back to his place to crash.

When we left the park, we were met by two police cars with blaring sirens and flashing lights. Apparently, the police had been watching us and had decided that the two puny long-haired kids having a toke in the park were being a menace to society. Fortunately, being the conscientious young men we were at the time, we had carefully placed our empty bottles in a garbage bin and had also ensured that any remnants of marijuana were in us rather than on us. As a result, the ensuing police search found nothing that could be construed as evidence of juvenile delinquency.

We almost talked ourselves out of the situation, but then I decided to do my worst ever Kristofferson imitation by asking if they had anything better to do than pick on a couple of hippie kids having a bit of fun. That was when someone turned out the lights, and we wound up in jail to spend the night.

But this post is not about youthful discretions or lost glory days. This post is about prejudice, inequality, discrimination, and profiling. It’s also about the sad realisation that our societal prejudices of yesteryear are still with us today.

I recently discovered that Kristofferson had been asked to change the words of his song when it was recorded in 1969. The verse, I never saw a man locked in that jail of yours who wasn’t just as lowdown poor as me, was originally written as I never saw a man locked in that jail of yours who wasn’t neither black or poor as me. That was then, and this is now: The poor are getting poorer and non-whites are being carded, hated, and misunderstood. In 1969, Kristofferson was talking about the prejudices of the time. In 2017, we continue down the road of hate.

I may have lost touch with my friend D.J. and my days of youthful discretion are only distant memories, but the lyrics of Kristofferson’s song still hold true. We are not where we should be, but I am still dreaming for the best of all possible worlds.

March 21, 2017
International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination

Dr. StrangeJob

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One Gaffe at a Time – Step 3

Step 3: Made a directive that all minions turn their will and lives over to management care. 

Full disclosure: I might have gotten this one backwards.

In our previous discussion on Step 2, we peered up the corporate ladder and unwittingly came to believe that senior management, thinking greater of themselves, could restore the hierarchy to complacency. In Step 3, our focus remains on senior management, but this time we discuss how that group view those working below them on the corporate ladder.

The Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) Step 3 reads: Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him. Unlike AA, the Incompetents Anonymous (IA) version of Step 3 is not about finding God, but rather about finding yourself working for someone with a God Complex. I have had my share of decent bosses, but I have also worked for a few assholes. You know the kind, the autocratic and controlling type of boss that demands blind allegiance from staff. You are not considered a colleague, partner, or co-worker. You are merely an underling to be exploited, used, or abused.

Similar to AA, an IA member may pray to God, but they are likely praying to God for their God Complex boss to stop preying on them. In fact, the IA understanding of a God Complex boss is a boss that has a backwards view of their own managerial worth. It is no coincidence that God spelled backwards is dog. That is why a boss with a God Complex is always barking up the wrong tree.

If God is a semordnilap (a word that spells another word in reverse or palindromes spelled backwards), then there may be other clues to suggest that a boss with a God Complex sees things from the wrong perspective. Your boss, for example, may think he is a star, but perhaps they are all rats in disguise. They treat minions like pupils and are just waiting for them to slipup. Some bosses say they just want to be our pals, but they are actually trying to slap us down. You just want to live, and they just want to be evil. You say that you lived for God, but perhaps you are just working for the devil dog.

OK, I give up on this one. I was hoping to deliver a positive step but now fear that I will be reviled instead.

So, if you are working for someone with a God Complex, then all I can offer you is sympathy and a piece of advice. You may be tired of getting crapped on, but as the old saying goes—if it is on the wheel then it will eventually come around. Instead of getting stressed, let’s just hope those bosses get their just desserts. Smile, be patient, and remember that diaper is repaid spelled backwards. Incidentally, Step 3 is where the idea for the  DIAPER Awards 2017 came from.

Future columns will discuss my journey through the IA recovery process. Until then, feel free to view the inaugural IA meeting, learn about Incompetents Anonymous, read the Audacity Prayer and 12+1 Steps, or become familiar with IA’s additional support groups.

Dr. StrangeJob

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