Last night was disastrous at work. If it had been a movie, there would have been an ocean liner and a great big iceberg. Or perhaps a zeppelin bursting into flames. Yeah, that bad.
And to top off all of the bad things happening, we were given a new sheet of paper on which to log all of the pertinent information on the various runs on our machine: Pieces fed, out of sequence pieces, full stackers and jams. Now, management can get all of this information from their own computers without hassling us, but it's being done "for our own good." Needless to say, it received a less than friendly reception.
On my machine, we decided to be noncompliantly compliant (or perhaps compliantly noncompliant, depending on your point of view). We gave them all of the numbers they asked for, from all fifteen of the runs we ran today... In Roman numerals. After all, they never specified what kind of numerals they wanted, so we decided that since our society uses Roman numerals for things that are pompous, pretentious and self-important (like Super Bowls and Olympiads), they were appropriate for the situation. We used them for every number on the sheet, including the date: VIII JUN MMVII.
Infinitus est numerus stultorum.
If you're wondering what the Latin phrases mean, go here.
