Template:Dkt outsourcing plan

From The Jolly Contrarian
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Complicatio: Ma’am, consigned by unfunny fate To live a life of cost, unloved upon in the ledger. ’tis the human stain of clammy operations Ruinously peopled by myriad technicians, each one Steeped, til the cup is cold, in his own dismal science. Or hers, or theirs, or its, or xes — I am thus and then obliged. I own the service line It falls to me to work upon our stretchèd silos, Yoked and tethered as a measurèd beast. Upon whose saddled back our fiscal fate depends. And here, our dilemma: the very men who work the chainèd cranks — Or women — or unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned— Queen: The heavens doth anoint! Complicatio: Milady? Nuncle: Pray, spare the conjugations, sir: Their majesty doth get the point. Queen: It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat? Complicatio: I am — we are — obliged. Those eager souls whose cadences power our jalopy By inevitable heft they play as weighty anchors. Nuncle: Call the Reverend Spooner! Complicatio: Yegads, but are they inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow! Best by inattendery. Oh!


Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That, when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists305 Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work; But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So, when this loose behavior I throw off And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; And like bright metal on a sullen ground,315 My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off. I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; Redeeming time when men think least I will.