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Boss: You'll need approval from the cloud. Dilbert: The cloud? Boss: It was once called Matrix Management. But it go so complicated that no one knows who does what. Dilbert: Can you approve this? Man: What did everyone else say?
Voice: The data center is evolving into a "lights out" operation. Employees will no longer be allowed in the data center. We hope to eliminate all of the problems that humans cause by moving cables, unplugging power cords, and ruining everything with their dirt and static. Dilbert: He makes it sound as if the data center is alive and we humans are nothing but germs. Alice: By the way, who called this meeting and who's on the speakerphone? Dilbert: Are you... the data center? Noise: CLICK. Dilbert: I have a bad feeling about this.
Mom, the good news I wanted to tell you is that my boss named me project manager. Mom: Please keep that to yourself. I tell my friends you're a locksmith. Dilbert: You're paying for your own lunch. Waiter: I'm Ed. I'll be your project manager.
Tags #frustration, #gadgets, #smartphone interface rage, #perfect storm, #bad interface design, #chubby fingers, #poor signal strenth, #smashing phone, #frustrated, #can't survive, #lesser of two eveils
Dilbert: Whoa! Watch out. I've read about this. It's called smartphone interface rage. It's caused by the perfect storm of bad interface design, chubby fingers, and poor signal strength. He'll get so frustrated that he'll consider smashing his phone. Then he'll realize he can't survive without his phone and he'll be twice as frustrated. We have to do something. Wally: Run as fast as you can into the wall! It will take your mind off of your phone! Sometimes the best you can hope for is that the lesser of two evils is the funny one.
Boss: I'm hearing some complaints that you built a robot shark to patrol the soc-called territorial waters around your cubicle. Alice: It's a robot dolphin. I can see how people might be confused. I need you to smile more. Shark: Whatever.
Dilbert: In a few years, computers will program themselves. That's called singularity. From that point on, machine intelligence will increase exponentially. The resulting shock will probably destroy the fabric of civilization. Plan "A" is to live an unhealthy lifestyle. Plan "B" is techno-terrorism. Boss: I like the first one.
Tech Support: Hello, this is tech support. May I close your ticket now? Dilbert: Um... no. You haven't helped me yet. I just called you. Tech Support: I'm not evaluated on how helpful I am. I'm evaluated on how many trouble tickets I close. Your stubbornness is becoming an obstacle to my financial success. By the way, if our call gets disconnected, I count that as a closed ticket. Dilbert: I'll make it quick. Tech Support: What? What? I can't hear you. Dilbert: Son of a beach ball! On the plus side, my goal of hating one new stranger every day is right on track.
Dilbert: My old nemesis retired, so I asked Randy to take over that function because he's ineffective at everything he does. Coworker: Huh? Dilbert: The physics of work required that each employee be matched with an anti-employee called a nemesis. Coworker: I don't know who my nemesis is. Wally: Uh-oh. You got a hider. They're the worst.
Dilbert: I spent four months creating this app, mom. I think I can sell a million of them for $3.99. Mom: I saw seven apps just like this in the app store and five of them were free. Dilbert: Thanks for the feedback, dream-killer. Mom: Have you ever thought of just using your first name, like Madonna?