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{{script|Complicatio}}: | {{script|Complicatio}}: My division’s damned, by unfunny fate <br> | ||
To live unloved upon the ledger. We are but cost.<br> | |||
’Tis the rust and stain and curse of clammy gears<br> | |||
{{script| | That require a ruinous peopling. <br> | ||
{{Script|Complicatio}} Aye, | We’ve cut our cloth as best can do<br> | ||
{{Script|Queen}}: The heavens doth | But these myriad needed grunts, though housed in meagre lairs <br> | ||
{{Script|Nuncle}} | Kept safe and well away from clientry, are yet a weight.<br> | ||
Each speaks the fractious tones of jargoned tongue<br> | |||
whose | Such patter steep’d, til cup is cold, in leaves of dismal science.<br> | ||
Each a different dismal one, his language apt to smother. <br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: We understand them not. Nor do they one other.<br> | |||
{{Script|Inclusivia}}: “His”?<br> | |||
< | {{script|Complicatio}}: Pray forgiveness, Lady Inclusivia. Hers as well.<br> | ||
{{Script|Inclusivia}}: And theirs.<br> | |||
{{script|Complicatio}}: Aye, them too. Yea, this is our strife: this bewild’ring ’scape <br> | |||
Of contraptions yoked and tethered as a many gender’d beast —<br> | |||
Upon whose discombobulating backs our common fate depends. <br> | |||
And, O! Dilemma! The very men who work these chainèd cranks —<br> | |||
{{Script|Inclusivia}}: Men? Just men?<br> | |||
{{script|Complicatio}}: Oh! and women — and those unsure, or curious, or as yet unaligned—<br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: The heavens doth anoint!<br> | |||
{{script|Complicatio}}: Milady? <br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: Pray, spare your testy conjugation:<br> | |||
And | Their majesty doth get the point.<br> | ||
{{script|Queen}}: It is a pretty speech so far. But has it any meat?<br> | |||
And | {{script|Inclusivia}}: Or leguminous alternatives. <br> | ||
{{script|Complicatio}}: I — we — they — am and are and are obliged.<br> | |||
They whose allied cadence powers our truck —<br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: The dismal ones?<br> | |||
{{Script|Complicatio}}: Aye them, with all their rancour —<br> | |||
By their inevitable heft, they play as weighty anchors.<br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: “Weighty anchors”? None call the Reverend Spooner!<br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: There are ''eighty'' of these dismal scientists? <br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: More like eight hundred —<br> | |||
< | {{script|Complicatio}}: Eager but, yegads, inconstant. Oafish! Fickle! Slow! <br> | ||
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.<br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: To do what?<br> | |||
{{Script|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. <br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: In other words, less gently put, they’ll make the lot [[redundant]].<br> | |||
{{Script|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.<br> | |||
{{Script|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?<br> | |||
{{Script|Complicatio}}: You can hire them by the score in [[Proverbial school-leaver from Bucharest|Bucharest]].<br> | |||
They are legion: all thifty, keen and swift. <br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: But unpossessed of needed knowhow that, by [[Redundancy|rank and yank]], you sent away?<br> | |||
{{Script|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. <br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: What is this “special skill” whereof you speak? <br> | |||
To coach a bunch of wet-eared boys —<br> | |||
{{Script|Inclusivia}}: — and girls, and grades between —<br> | |||
{{Script|Queen}}: — to outperform our veterans? It sounds to us like sorcery. <br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: “Outsourcery”, they call it. An amiable conjury,<br> | |||
Well-known to bewitch a gawping treasurer.<br> | |||
{{Script|Complicatio}}: ’Tis more than cheeky sleight of hand, my liege.<br> | |||
{{Script|Nuncle}}: ’Tis not. You’ll see. The logic’s flimsy.<br> | |||
{{Script|Complicatio}}: ’Tis tried, tested and pronounced a win<br> | |||
By no lesser than McKinsey.<br> |