Beyond "bored at work Haiku"
So. I finally got to see SMILE While You DIE performed today (every service-industry lackey in the 'Peg should go see it, by the by). I was hoping things would turn out well, and I was not at all dissapointed. In fact, it was quite inspiring (despite dredging up painful tech-support memories.... it's very spot on in a number of places).
AH, yes. inspiring. Perhaps the world would wish that I were not so inspired, but I have created... parody lyrics. Yes. that's right. Poor Stan Rogers never got a chance to write of Make-or-Break-Callcentre, outsourching to India, (I Suppose) or of Mary-Ellen's-Server (RISE AGAIN! RIIIIISE AGAIN!)... so I decided to try my hand at it.
And here is my (first) attempt:
The Witch of the West Section
Dale worked the overnights and swore with open zeal
Loud and crude the agents cries that took calls from the field
saying "Back pay and overtime don't compensate this shit
and none but the witch of west section can change the password script
so turn, turn your aching head, tell Duty of the Qeue
"the server for the login's down and the calls all yell at you"
Transferred fast then stuck on hold, the break-time passed him by
below "on par" his average sunk when he heard the Shift-Boss cry
saying "why do you sit on hold, what's the issue here?"
"I've called the head of west section that runs the servers there"
"she's extension two-two-three-eightone at site threeeight-twoeight
You've got the number, transfer now - this call time's not so great"
He said "liar! three eight two eight's a loop and the extension was just blocked!
Their phone prompts at this time of day will never let you talk,
but two-three-se-ven two oh-four, might answer this damn call,
I fear the sun will rise this morn e'er I fix this one at all
and down to the our Agents desk has walked the Shift-Boss Neil
His headset he has now plugged in to see what the call might yield
and *click* came she on the line, fast andd 1337 was she.
One half the form of a tech tier four, with half the hourly fee.
Quite long the call notes grew, as he talked to her on Skype,
and over chat the questions flew so swiftly he did type
saying *curse* I've an outage found, there's simply no one there.
stupid strike the whole shift's walked, it's the competitor's job fair.
She said pray... and crap... in my sleepy haz last night I lost the rest. dammit!
It's not just Stan, either, I've got one cooking from The Yarn of the Nancy Bell... whcih could either describe a cannibalistic desktop PC, or a callcentre project on its way out (or perhaps a caffeteria and it's food... but that's been done).
And Gunga Din has to have an analogue with Foreign Tech Support.
This whole "New Information Economy" BS has no songs of/for cheap exploited labour in the same way. One Fist of Iron and One Fist of Steel doesn't work when you've got one fist for punching phone keys and one for typing. And selling your soul to the Automated Call Script doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
There are no folk songs about the (first) guy who got the call about the "Coffee Holder", or what he did. There is no ballad about The Day the E-Mail Died. or The Man Who Sold The WWWorld. The guy who renamed customers profane (and accurate) epithets in the database (along with lengthy, and useful!, descriptions of how to handle calls from them) may be a minor legend, as is the Modem That Got Away (through the wall, down 52nd street, with the owner driving after it), but they are 'insider' jokes... and I guess what I'm saying is that they could be so much more.
And hey, it's not like I'm suggesting singalong mindnumbing kid-songs. They'll evolve on their own...
"...There's a bit in the byte in the text on the blog in the appp on the site in the browser in the bar on the bottom of the screen..."
AH, yes. inspiring. Perhaps the world would wish that I were not so inspired, but I have created... parody lyrics. Yes. that's right. Poor Stan Rogers never got a chance to write of Make-or-Break-Callcentre, outsourching to India, (I Suppose) or of Mary-Ellen's-Server (RISE AGAIN! RIIIIISE AGAIN!)... so I decided to try my hand at it.
And here is my (first) attempt:
The Witch of the West Section
Dale worked the overnights and swore with open zeal
Loud and crude the agents cries that took calls from the field
saying "Back pay and overtime don't compensate this shit
and none but the witch of west section can change the password script
so turn, turn your aching head, tell Duty of the Qeue
"the server for the login's down and the calls all yell at you"
Transferred fast then stuck on hold, the break-time passed him by
below "on par" his average sunk when he heard the Shift-Boss cry
saying "why do you sit on hold, what's the issue here?"
"I've called the head of west section that runs the servers there"
"she's extension two-two-three-eightone at site threeeight-twoeight
You've got the number, transfer now - this call time's not so great"
He said "liar! three eight two eight's a loop and the extension was just blocked!
Their phone prompts at this time of day will never let you talk,
but two-three-se-ven two oh-four, might answer this damn call,
I fear the sun will rise this morn e'er I fix this one at all
and down to the our Agents desk has walked the Shift-Boss Neil
His headset he has now plugged in to see what the call might yield
and *click* came she on the line, fast andd 1337 was she.
One half the form of a tech tier four, with half the hourly fee.
Quite long the call notes grew, as he talked to her on Skype,
and over chat the questions flew so swiftly he did type
saying *curse* I've an outage found, there's simply no one there.
stupid strike the whole shift's walked, it's the competitor's job fair.
She said pray... and crap... in my sleepy haz last night I lost the rest. dammit!
It's not just Stan, either, I've got one cooking from The Yarn of the Nancy Bell... whcih could either describe a cannibalistic desktop PC, or a callcentre project on its way out (or perhaps a caffeteria and it's food... but that's been done).
And Gunga Din has to have an analogue with Foreign Tech Support.
This whole "New Information Economy" BS has no songs of/for cheap exploited labour in the same way. One Fist of Iron and One Fist of Steel doesn't work when you've got one fist for punching phone keys and one for typing. And selling your soul to the Automated Call Script doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
There are no folk songs about the (first) guy who got the call about the "Coffee Holder", or what he did. There is no ballad about The Day the E-Mail Died. or The Man Who Sold The WWWorld. The guy who renamed customers profane (and accurate) epithets in the database (along with lengthy, and useful!, descriptions of how to handle calls from them) may be a minor legend, as is the Modem That Got Away (through the wall, down 52nd street, with the owner driving after it), but they are 'insider' jokes... and I guess what I'm saying is that they could be so much more.
And hey, it's not like I'm suggesting singalong mindnumbing kid-songs. They'll evolve on their own...
"...There's a bit in the byte in the text on the blog in the appp on the site in the browser in the bar on the bottom of the screen..."