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{{dia|Complicatio|My division’s damned, by unfunny fate<br>
{{script|Complicatio}}: My division’s consigned, by unfunny fate
To live unloved upon the ledger. We are but cost.<br>
To live unloved upon the ledger. We are but cost.
’Tis the rust and stain and curse of clammy gears<br>
’tis the rust and stain and curse of clammy machinery
That require a ruinous peopling.<br>
To require ruinous peopling. We’ve cut our cloth as best can do
We’ve cut our cloth as best can do<br>
But these needed myriad technicians, though housed in meagre lairs
But these myriad needed grunts, though housed in meagre lairs<br>
And kept safe and well away from clientry, are yet a weight.
Kept safe and well away from clientry, are yet a weight.<br>
Each speaks in fractured runes of jargoned tongues
Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue<br>
In dialects native to their scattered silos.
Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science.<br>
The patter is, til cup is cold, steep’d in leaves of arcane science.  
Each a different dismal one, his language apt to smother. }}
We understand them not. Nor they each other.
{{dia|Nuncle|We understand them not. Nor do they one other.}}
Yet, this is our strife: this is the bewild’ring scape
{{dia|Inclusivia|“His”?}}
Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a measurèd beast —
{{dia|Complicatio|Pray forgiveness, Lady Inclusivia. Hers as well.}}
Upon whose saddled back our fiscal fate depends.  
{{dia|Inclusivia|And theirs.}}
And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks —
{{dia|Complicatio|Aye, them too. Yea, this is our strife: this bewild’ring ’scape<br>
{{Script|Queen}}: Men? Just men?
Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a many gender’d beast —<br>
{{script|Complicatio}}: And women — and those unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned—
Upon whose discombobulating backs our common fate depends.<br>
{{Script|Queen}}: The heavens doth anoint!
And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks —}}
{{script|Complicatio}}: Milady?
{{dia|Inclusivia|Men? Just men?}}
{{Script|Nuncle}}: Pray, spare the conjugations, sir:
{{dia|Complicatio|Oh! and women — and those unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned—}}
Their majesty doth get the point.
{{dia|Queen|The heavens doth anoint!}}
{{script|Queen}}: It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat?
{{dia|Complicatio|Milady? }}
{{script|Complicatio}}: I — we — they — are and am obliged.
{{dia|Nuncle|Pray, spare your testy conjugation:<br>
Those eager souls whose allied cadences power our jalopy
Their majesty doth get the point.}}
By their inevitable heft, they play as weighty anchors.
{{dia|Queen|It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat?}}
{{Script|Nuncle}}: “Weighty anchors”? None call the Reverend Spooner!
{{dia|Inclusivia|Or leguminous alternatives.  }}
{{script|Complicatio}}: Eager but, yegads, inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow!  
{{dia|Complicatio|I — we — they — am and are and are obliged.<br>
I wouldst speed their outputs up, only worser comes with sooner.
They whose allied cadence powers our truck —}}
And so, my liege, my battle plan: set these [[Morlocks]] free.
{{dia|Queen|The dismal ones?}}
{{Script|Queen}}: To do what?
{{dia|Complicatio| Aye them, with all their rancour —<br>
Should we set crankshafts free from work-to-rule
By their inevitable heft, they play as weighty anchors.}}
To run through night and day without cease
{{dia|Nuncle|“Weighty anchors”? None call the Reverend Spooner!}}
And upon the sabbath.
{{dia|Queen| There are ''eighty'' of these dismal scientists? }}
{{Script|Queen}}: Crankshafts doth pedal not themselves, Complicatio.
{{dia|Nuncle|More like eight hundred —}}
Know you who can work without food or rest?
{{dia|Complicatio|Eager but, yegads, inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow!<br>
{{Script|Complicatio}}: Aye: In a call centre near by Bucharest.  
I wouldst speed my rate of stroke, only worser comes with sooner.<br>
 
And so, my liege, my battle plan: we set these [[Morlocks]] free.}}
</div>
{{dia|Queen|To do what?}}
{{dia|Inclusivia|To see out their best and carefree lives, unchained of drudgery.<br>
Uninjured by liv’d experience: happy, unstress’d — full, fair and abundant. }}
{{dia|Nuncle|In other words, less gently put, they’ll make the lot [[redundant]].}}
{{dia|Complicatio|Thus, unbound by work-to-rule, we’ll drive the train<br>
Around the clock, without relent<br>
Night; day; rain; hail or shine — e’en upon the Sabbath.}}
{{dia|Queen|Our crankshafts pedal not themselves, [[Complicatio]].<br>
You’ve said you’d let your [[subject matter expert|experts]] go, so<br>
Who shall turn thy grimy wheels, without fault or favour, food or rest?}}
{{dia|Complicatio|You can hire them by the score in [[Proverbial school-leaver from Bucharest|Bucharest]].<br>
They are legion: all thifty, keen and swift. }}
{{dia|Queen|But unpossessed of needed knowhow that, by [[Redundancy|rank and yank]], you sent away?}}
{{dia|Complicatio|There are certain merchants, Ma’am whose special skill<br>
Lies in collating squads of fruity youths, fresh harvested from school<br>
And putting them at our bespoke disposal.<br>
They bone them up upon our musty [[Playbook|almanacks]] —<br>
[[Service catalogue]]s, hymn-sheets, psalters, [[Risk taxonomies|taxonomies]] and the like<br>
And see them train’d, at pace, to keep to and stay upon our message. }}
{{dia|Queen|What is this “special skill” whereof you speak?<br>
To coach a bunch of wet-eared boys —}}
{{dia|Inclusivia| — and girls, and grades between —}}
{{dia|Queen|— to outperform our veterans? It sounds to us like sorcery. }}
{{dia|Nuncle|“Outsourcery”, they call it. An amiable conjury,<br>
Well-known to bewitch a gawping treasurer.}}
{{dia|Complicatio|’Tis more than cheeky sleight of hand, my liege.}}
{{dia|Nuncle|’Tis not. You’ll see. The logic’s flimsy.}}
{{dia|Complicatio|’Tis tried, tested and pronounced a win<br>
By no lesser than McKinsey.}}

Latest revision as of 15:16, 10 September 2024

Complicatio: My division’s damned, by unfunny fate
To live unloved upon the ledger. We are but cost.
’Tis the rust and stain and curse of clammy gears
That require a ruinous peopling.
We’ve cut our cloth as best can do
But these myriad needed grunts, though housed in meagre lairs
Kept safe and well away from clientry, are yet a weight.
Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue
Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science.
Each a different dismal one, his language apt to smother.

Nuncle: We understand them not. Nor do they one other.

Inclusivia: “His”?

Complicatio: Pray forgiveness, Lady Inclusivia. Hers as well.

Inclusivia: And theirs.

Complicatio: Aye, them too. Yea, this is our strife: this bewild’ring ’scape
Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a many gender’d beast —
Upon whose discombobulating backs our common fate depends.
And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks —

Inclusivia: Men? Just men?

Complicatio: Oh! and women — and those unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned—

Queen: The heavens doth anoint!

Complicatio: Milady?

Nuncle: Pray, spare your testy conjugation:
Their majesty doth get the point.

Queen: It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat?

Inclusivia: Or leguminous alternatives.

Complicatio: I — we — they — am and are and are obliged.
They whose allied cadence powers our truck —

Queen: The dismal ones?

Complicatio: Aye them, with all their rancour —
By their inevitable heft, they play as weighty anchors.

Nuncle: “Weighty anchors”? None call the Reverend Spooner!

Queen: There are eighty of these dismal scientists?

Nuncle: More like eight hundred —

Complicatio: Eager but, yegads, inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow!
I wouldst speed my rate of stroke, only worser comes with sooner.
And so, my liege, my battle plan: we set these Morlocks free.

Queen: To do what?

Inclusivia: To see out their best and carefree lives, unchained of drudgery.
Uninjured by liv’d experience: happy, unstress’d — full, fair and abundant.

Nuncle: In other words, less gently put, they’ll make the lot redundant.

Complicatio: Thus, unbound by work-to-rule, we’ll drive the train
Around the clock, without relent
Night; day; rain; hail or shine — e’en upon the Sabbath.

Queen: Our crankshafts pedal not themselves, Complicatio.
You’ve said you’d let your experts go, so
Who shall turn thy grimy wheels, without fault or favour, food or rest?

Complicatio: You can hire them by the score in Bucharest.
They are legion: all thifty, keen and swift.

Queen: But unpossessed of needed knowhow that, by rank and yank, you sent away?

Complicatio: There are certain merchants, Ma’am whose special skill
Lies in collating squads of fruity youths, fresh harvested from school
And putting them at our bespoke disposal.
They bone them up upon our musty almanacks
Service catalogues, hymn-sheets, psalters, taxonomies and the like
And see them train’d, at pace, to keep to and stay upon our message.

Queen: What is this “special skill” whereof you speak?
To coach a bunch of wet-eared boys —

Inclusivia: — and girls, and grades between —

Queen: — to outperform our veterans? It sounds to us like sorcery.

Nuncle: “Outsourcery”, they call it. An amiable conjury,
Well-known to bewitch a gawping treasurer.

Complicatio: ’Tis more than cheeky sleight of hand, my liege.

Nuncle: ’Tis not. You’ll see. The logic’s flimsy.

Complicatio: ’Tis tried, tested and pronounced a win
By no lesser than McKinsey.