Saturday, January 22, 2011

Canadian Broadcast Standards Council is the most responsive bureaucracy on the planet

It was the complaint everyone at the Canadian Broadcast Standards Council had been waiting for:

The word "faggot" had been detected -- after 25 years in circulation -- in the Dire Straits song, "Money for Nothing."

Although the idea of "money for nothing" was agreeable to the bureaucrat mindset at the CBSC, no one could abide the word "faggot" in a song on Canadian airwaves.

What next? Fornication in the streets? Beheadings in the public park? Due dates on library books being disregarded?

The bureaucrats at the CBSC always knew that Dire Straits' song "Money for Nothing" was bad. Not just annoying, but bad like Elvis was bad for Pat Boone America. Like TV was bad for Bible reading.

But the execrable tangle of laws in Canada prevented them from doing what they innately knew was right: banning the song. Banishing it to hell.

Then, with one hallowed complaint from Bungholio, Newfoundland, the CBSC could finally rise to the full stature of its mandate: To Ban.

Lawrence Smart of the CBSC, a ten-year bureaucrat -- with the golden pencil-pushing-pencil to prove it -- had an even better idea than merely banning songs.

At the next departmental meeting, he proposed:

"I propose that the CBSC create government sanctioned music for Canadians," said Lawrence.

The idea raised some eyebrows at the meeting, but departmental manager, Garth Hudenbeque, asked Lawrence to continue.

He opened his laptop and played some music he'd composed -- or, basically lifted from Apple's GarageBand.

The music was slow, dentist office easy listening.

He clicked another button on the interface and a computerized voice provided vocals.

"I think CBSC music should be sung by an asexual, gender-neutral voice," Lawrence said, "so that we don't risk offending men who hate women or women who have been victimzed by men."

"Makes sense," his colleague Lila Charbonneau said.

The computer sang:
You are very attractive
I feel very good when I'm near you
Being with you makes me feel good
I like to feel good and I do when I'm with you
Antonia Yozac dabbed the corners of her eyes. "That's beautiful."

Lawrence halted the music.

"That was a ballad," he said. "Now for something a little more upbeat."

Uptempo synth music emanated from the laptop. A few bars in, the computer voice sang:
I like to dance
You like to dance
Wouldn't it be great
If we danced together
A . . . lot . . .
"We could use that at our next Christmas party," Garth said. "Err, I mean, our next holiday party," he quickly ammended.

Lawrence suddenly seemed nervous. "I do have a third sample to play for you."

"Let's hear it!" crowed Piper Pipeson, the department partier -- he had a pierced ear and spoke often of getting a tattoo.

"It's edgy," Lawrence cautioned.

Garth cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Not . . . 'Money for Nothing' edgy, I hope."

"No, no," Lawrence said, quickly. "That's just crazy. No, this is good edgy."

He clicked the interface on the laptop and the upbeat synth music seemed doubled in intensity. Then came the computer vocalist:
I think you're hot
You think I'm cool
We look awesome together
. . .

My feelings are retrograde!
I am base and unnatural!
"Oh my!" Elizabeth Mortimer squeaked.
Euphemism for erection!
Euphemism for female arousal!
Euphemism for coitus!
All . . . night . . . long . . .
"OK! OK!" Garth said, jumping to his feet, waving his hands. "OK! Enough of that!"

Everyone in the room appeared flushed. Some wiped their brows.

Garth cleared his throat. "Thank you, Lawrence, for uh, trying to think outside of the box," he said. "But I think we learned a valuable lesson today, that we need the box. We're protected by the box."

"I've never had a problem with the box," said Elizabeth Mortimer in a small voice.

"All right, people!" Garth intoned. "Let's get back to work! There are Canadians complaining about unpleasant weather reports, unsatisfactory stock market results, sexually suggestive puppets on kids' show -- let's get on it!"

The meeting was convened. Lawrence packed up his laptop. As the rest of the bureaucrats left the room, Garth approached him. He put his hand on Lawrence's shoulder, but then quickly removed it in case Lawrence was offended by human contact.

"That was a good presentation," Garth said. "Maybe a few years too early for us, but still very good."

Lawrence nodded, disappointed. "I guess I've just got to face facts -- there aren't many 'Money for Nothing's left out there."

"No," Garth agreed. "There aren't."


BureaucratSlayer9 said...

Loved the bit on the "holiday" party. Seriously, what the fuck has happened to our papier mache, feelings easily hurt country where we're seemingly transforming into mindless cowards? This whole topic is a piss-off and this blog does justice to pointing out just how fucking ridiculous our bureaucrats have become.

Great entry!

Whetam Gnauckweirst said...

This is why Canada has professional complaints fielding offices like the CBSC and the Human Rights Tribunals -- keeping up with the whining of the most easily offended is a full-time job!