Mostly rambles, few brambles
There Are Bad Ideas in Brainstorming
No, I said stop. You have more than convinced me and debunked the maxim once and for all: there are bad ideas in brainstorming.
Namely, your ideas. Your ideas that are completely off topic, completely asinine, and do more harm than good during these team meetings.
When we’re scrambling to salvage the BankenHaus Account, it seems it would be better if you didn’t think or speak at all. I get that financial institutions don’t grip you the same way that your screenplay, “Gunner Storm: Painful Discharge,” or your online girlfriend, or the business plan for your gentleman’s club called “Six to Midnight” grips you, and that even twenty second of non-entertainment is difficult for your generation to stomach. I’ve noticed how you tense as these dull, productive seconds drip by and in your brain I know any system checks are disengaging and soon your sloppy, stubbly mouth will belch out whatever today’s shiny idea is without any regard for the current conversation.
Like, I might not state it specifically—I may only fiercely imply it —but when I say “brainstorming” I mean feasible, non-illegal; no “dead honeypot” stings, or instances where we frame the competition for national tragedies via a “fabricated weather machine conspiracy.”
You know how you say, “No bad ideas in brainstorming,” every time I shoot down another wildly unethical lawsuit magnet you’ve trotted out? Have you heard the saying, “You can have too much of a good thing”? In your case, it’s self-esteem. I know you hate me in this moment for verbally spanking your ass raw in front of God and Marketing, but I won’t feel bad about it. In my own brain, for my own appropriate level of self-esteem, I’m scoring this scolding as “public service” and not “enjoyable wrath.”
Roll that tear right back into your duct—you will not elicit pity and ruin this for us. I look around this room and I see eleven other people who want to be here, who don’t flaunt a cool detachment to their employment. People who care about the BankenHaus account. People who don’t wear the minimum amount of tie. People who are engrossed right now in the voyeuristic thrill of witnessing dispensed comeuppance.
With everyone’s wages here, each one of these forty-minute meetings actually costs a pretty penny. And we need everyone pulling together to show BankenHaus that we can change the paradigm and change perceptions about massive financial institutions that prey on public ignorance. I think we are getting there, and I think the new ad with the lake house, the sprawling lawn, and the interracial group hug by a barbecue—all of it will distract nicely from their recent treason charges.
Off topic, but Gunner Storm’s “Ride the Jackal” catchphrase shouldn’t be used in every conversation, and why is there so much action description in the talking dog’s sex scene?
Also, I don’t care if you like charcuterie—no one is going to order it at your strip club.
So, anyways, here’s what we’re going to do. You can get out. You can come back tomorrow. That’s my on-topic, well-brainstormed idea that I’m reasonably sure is worth a public utterance.
I’m going to make sure they don’t pay you your intern’s pittance or any college credit for today.