Dilbert Not Buying It Comic Strips - Page 94
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Dilbert: As you requested, I wrote a VR program that makes users feel as if they are in cubicles. I put only your name on the credits because I expect an angry mob to kill whoever created it. I also wrote a VR jail program in case you want to be in protective custody. Boss: I might need that.
Boss: We're going to use our VR technology to take over the cubicle business. Write a program that makes users feel as if they are working in a fabric-covered box. Dilbert: Maybe we should think outside the box. Boss: Stop resisting change.
Dilbert: I wrote a VR program that turns the workplace into a "Lord Of The Rings" adventure. Gaaaa!!! It's an evil orc! Boss: I guess your program randomly assigns characters to real people. Dilbert: Um, yes, random.
Waiter: Here are your french fries. Dilbert: Gaaaa!!! I have no salt. Waiter: I will bring the salt right away. Dilbert: No, you won't. This isn't my first time eating out! You say you will bring salt, but you will be distracted by another table. I will sit here in anger while I watch you do things that do not involve bringing me salt. As the temperature of my fries drops, my cortisol levels will increase. In five minutes I will hate your guts and this restaurant, too. I also need ketchup. Waiter: That will take a little longer.
Dilbert: Nothing in this dimension is real. Asok: Double-click on that. Dilbert: The jargon matrix is where people imagine they are being useful. But in reality, they are sitting in a chair doing nothing. Asok: I just made a ten-year technology plan.
Dilbert: Asok entered the jargon matrix. I'm going in to save him. Asok: User experience... Dilbert: Cloud... blockchain... speed of execution... responsive design... peel the onion... move the needle... Asok: Sustainability. Dilbert: I'm in. Asok: What the...? Where did you come from? Narrator: Continued...
Carol: Come quickly. I think Asok entered the jargon matrix. Asok: At the end of the day, I want some actionable insights that will improve our cross-platform integration. Carol: Can he hear us? Dilbert: Yes, but our words are just noise to him now. Asok: Silo.
Boss: How's work? Dilbert: Well, since you asked... it's like being trapped in a garbage compactor and no one can hear me scream. All my hopes and dreams have died, along with my immune system and my dignity. The only thing keeping me alive is that food tastes good. I tried to escape into my imagination, but I learned I don't have one. My life has no meaning. Each second is a slow-motion ordeal. Why do I get the feeling you weren't listening to any of that? Boss:My day was good too.