Modern Recycling

Momo wrote wonderfully about those suffocating office days when you want to throw a printer through the window and take yourself with it.

This kind of feeling is all too common. Mouse Rage is my problem – the act of rapidly pounding the poor beasts belly on the desk while hissing Motherfucker! motherfucker! And it's rarely the mouse's fault.

What to do with all this office-induced aggression? It's one of the great questions of the modern age. It reminds me of that other great question of the modern age (yes, there's only two) – what to do with the millions of obsolete computers?

You can solve both problems in one neat little package: PC Driving Ranges. Instead of golf balls it's beige plastic goodness. Build it in the middle of some depressing industrial estate, thousands of little booths to simulate that cubicled feeling. Then step right up and for a fiver you can hurl half a dozen computers from a great height. Shout and scream and let the blood boil in your belly as you watch a machine soar across the sky and split its guts all over the ground. That's therapeutic.

And you know those pools filled with coloured balls that kids like to splash in? How about we dig a hole in the ground and throw in all the discarded non-optical mice of the world. You know, the ones with the dirty balls that limp uselessly along your mouse mat. Can you imagine jumping in and hearing the delicious plasticky clickityclickityclickity of a thousand mouse buttons? Rawk.

About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m Shauna, an author, copywriter and content mentor. I love telling stories about life and helping others to tell theirs.

Find out more about me and how we can work together – I’m now booking for November 2020.

13 thoughts on “Modern Recycling

  1. One of the practices I’ve noticed while working at Big Evil Corporation is that the marketing department gets stress balls printed up with advertising for internal services. Maybe it’s actually a clause in their liability insurance contract that they need to provide them so they’re covered if someone jumps out the window.

    Of course, i’m only speculating … and stress balls covered in advertising tend to only contribute to my anger.

  2. Shauny: Your entry has fueled a dormant momentum. I now have your plan for World Publishing Domination. And strangely enough it involves one-upping that lovable little cartoon bastard Dilbert.

    See, here’s the problem with Scott Adams. He supports downsizing, he’s not really for the working stiffs in the cubicle. Clearly, any man who ramrods cuteness thruogh the despicable dog Dogbert (see, he’s cute, because the little fucker resembles an iMac — he’s one of you! stick him on your windshields! to hell with Hello Kitty!) is circumspect.

    As far as I can tell, Dilbert has worked the same despicable job for some time. A very long time. He remains miserable, abused by his boss, and he tries to pass the moments through fun moments that are also hampered by inhuman corporate policies. The sick thing is that he strikes a chord, but in the wrong way. In other words, Scott Adams has mined a fortune by giving us a world-famous comic strip about an all-too-human dilemma in which there isn’t the cheery interruption of Spaceman Spiff, or Duke going aggro in an unexpected environment, or Dennis the Menace finding momentary liberation by fucking with the head of Mr. Wilson. No, Dilbert remains UTTERLY THE SAME. There is no payoff. Adams wants us to laugh AT the poor helpless bastard, rather than WITH him. And that’s probably why his head should be on a pike outside of United Features Syndicate.

    But the final paragraph in this post shows me that you, dear Shauny, have the makings of a very different sort of Josh (“Haiku Tunnel”) Kornbluth within you. Because unlike that sadistic bastard Scott Adams, you actually do care for the daily struggles of the worker. You have chronicled them without quarter here. And it’s a subject you continually dwell upon. But the important component is that you know how to deliver payoff. And you know how to empathize.

    So I say, it’s time to create a high adventure for this ocassionally baffled secretary arechetype and turn it into a novel, a film — even better, a comic strip that kicks the crap out of Dilbert. Only you know the form, but the seed lies within you.

    You can even include the globetrotting, the recent adventures with Harvey and the like.

    But the choice is yours.

    This has been a Public Shauny Inspiration Announcement.

  3. hear hear! nothing would give me more satisfaction than beating the hell out of the printer at work which NEVER prints what i tell it to on the right paper. Together, we have detroyed miles and miles of virgin forests.

  4. I’m convinced that I can make a new super-fuel to power the world from that nasty gak that builds up on the rollers of your mouse, making it all stupid and unresponsive. (ngtbuoroymmiasar for short)

    Hi Shauners! Welcome back to the land of the living, Harvey. What joy!

  5. In the US, a number of shooting ranges do a brisk trade letting people bring in old computers/printers and blow them to smithereens.

  6. You should save some old china for just such an emergency. I do, and it’s great stressrelief! Just grab the cup & saucer marked : “p*ssed” & “off” and throw them mightily against a brick wall. Aaaahhhhh…..

  7. Ha! Love it, Shauners.

    The other day I suggested to co-workers that we bring a ghetto blaster and some of our favourite CDs and dance outside the office at lunchtime. My friends and I always did that at lunchtime and recess at school – I seriously had the meanest choreography to ‘When The Going Gets Tough’ by Billy Ocean on the Jewel of the Nile Soundtrack, resplendent with a hitch-hiking moves to the “The tough gets going” bit.

    It offered great stress-relief as an 11-year-old.

    Anyway, everyone laughed, said “Yeah right” and I found myself alone on the brilliant idea. Again. As always.


  8. Oooh, that took me right back to those days (or, more usually, nights) in the computer labs at uni.

    The mice were so crap. But just ’cause they were dirty.

    I’d slam ’em just like it sounds you do. (I even got asked by someone else to stop doing that, as it was annoying them.) And, in the vein hope that something would be done about all those dirty mice, I’d email the computer services people to tell them, ‘such’n’such a mouse on such’n’such a machine is unacceptably crap.’ (Once, I got an email back, telling me that these reports of dirty mice weren’t very helpful.)

    (I loved the optical mice in some of the labs, though. They had such attractive mats.)

    These days, I just clean my mouse from time to time, and enjoy its supersmooth, supereasy glidiness and accuracy afterwards 🙂

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