12.20.15
More Sunday Humour: Fictional Diary From the European Patent Office
Thursday (the 17th) was my birthday by the way…
Summary: Some more jokes about the European Patent Office (EPO), whose management has become somewhat of a laughing stock, berated or scolded both from from within and from the outside
THIS afternoon we reverted back to humour (best medicine) regarding the EPO, even though we’re dealing with very serious matters here, such as people’s jobs/careers if not people’s lives and the fate of Europe’s economy/autonomy.
Over here we’re in a rather playful mood ahead of the long break. The other day we went to the German market in Town (very warm Christmas this year), bought a copy of the rather amusing Private Eye on the way (the EPO is mentioned in it), and today we received this funny E-mail which purports to be Battistelli’s diary. In a holiday kind of spirit we decided to share it here and aptly file it under “Humour”.
A day in the life … (a fictional diary)
Over the past years I have come to realize that, like all great statesmen, I shall one day have to write a full memoir of my life to satisfy my many admirers. Today, however, I have an office to be President of and no time for creating such a work, which would inevitably be a lengthy undertaking, so much have I to pass on to the younger generations. Let me offer solace, therefore, to my adoring followers in the form of this little taster, an amuse gueule so to speak, in which I describe a typical day “at the top”.
Today, for example, my chauffeur collected me at 9 o’clock from home. It’s very nice having a chauffeur, but you do have to be careful about who it is. The first guy they gave me, well, he simply didn’t understand his place. He seemed to think it was all right to ask me not to smoke in the car. “Je m’en fous,” I said, but that didn’t impress him and he whined all the way to the office about it being his place of work and his health that I was endangering. I soon got rid of him. The new chap knows when to keep his mouth shut.
It’s the same in the office. People really must understand when to accept that I am the President and that I do what I like. I had to get them to disable the smoke alarms on the tenth floor of the Isar building because they kept going off every time I needed to light up. If they had disabled the smoke alarms anywhere else, I’d have disciplined them, of course. It is quite fun, in fact, telling the whole staff that rules are there to be obeyed and that everyone has to respect them. Except me, but I don’t mention that. Je m’en fous.
So my first meeting of the day was with Lutz the Klutz. That’s a Jewish word, “Klutz”, it means a clumsy or stupid person. I learned it reading a book of Jewish jokes one time and thought to myself, “Isn’t that apt?” Don’t you just love the Jewish sense of humour? It’s so selfdeprecating. Of course, I deprecate others, not myself. Anyhow, Klutzy came up to my office and we discussed a few finer points of appeals law over a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Klutzy explained to me that in an appeals procedure, two parties present their arguments, and then the board of appeal decides. I said I didn’t approve of that system and we needed to reform it. Surely, we don’t have to waste time listening to all those arguments. We can just decide which side we like and tell them they win. That would save a lot of time and bother, and we wouldn’t have to pay such high salaries for people to learn that complicated legal stuff.
Just before lunch, I had time for a quick meeting with Topic the Terrible. If we still lived in the middle ages, I’d appoint him my Chief Executioner. That sort of thing is not approved of these days. But hey, why not? Je m’en fous, I’m immune. I’ll get him to draft a document for the next Council meeting. They’ll love the idea.
Lunch was a quiet one today. I took it with those nice mothers and fathers in the Investigation Unit. I thought they’d be happy to spend time with someone who appreciated them instead of the criminals they normally have to deal with. Like I wrote to that scumbag Le Borgn’ the other day, they are mothers and fathers and we should have great respect for the sacrifices they make. We were discussing what to do about the Disciplinary Committee if they don’t agree with the Investigation Unit’s findings. I said that was easy – we just discipline them! Hahaha. Je m’en fous, we’ll have to introduce a Disciplinary Committee for the Disciplinary Committee. I shall accuse them of an inhuman attitude to mothers and fathers. In today’s society, with populations in Europe in decline (except the refugees), we should learn to show more deference to parents. And I intend to send a strong signal in that respect. What about the accused, people ask me, they are mothers and fathers too, aren’t they? I agree, but they are low creatures of no worth. How then can their offspring be of any concern to me? The “mothers and fathers” thing was a jolly good idea of mine in that letter to Le Borgn’, but you must understand that it only applies to mothers and fathers who are loyal servants to me.
But there’s me getting all philosophical again, just when I wanted to tell you about my day. In the afternoon, I asked to see the medical file of that malingerer Wimpy Wim. I mean, “van der Eijk” means “of the oak”, surely he must be as strong as an oak. I’m convinced he’s faking it. So I told the Office Medical Advisor to order him back to work. He said I didn’t have any medical justification for doing that. I said, “Je m’en fous” and he went off. Such an obedient chap.
In the afternoon, I had a chat with some guests from epi – now there we have a group of friendly helpful people. Occasionally, they think they’re entitled to an opinion, such as that Jim Boff guy from the UK who even put an opinion in writing and sent it to me. But I cleared that one up fast enough. I explained that opinions are my area of expertise, not theirs. I don’t think we’ll be hearing from Boffy Boy again.1
My final meeting today with with Meany Minnoye – I like him, he’s the only person I know who tries to outnasty me. Elodie outnasties me too, but not through trying. The poor girl, she doesn’t ever realize how nasty she’s being and how many people’s lives she’s destroying. It’s pitiful to watch, and quite fun really. There’s me digressing again. Meany and me decided that we need to cut the pensions for everyone below Vice-President. It’s very important that we make sure there is enough money in the pension scheme to cover our every need in the years to come. When I say “our”, I mean Meany’s and my needs, not everyone’s. No, no, we have to cut everyone else’s pension. It’s the only option for us to be absolutely certain of a financially secure old age for us.
That was it for me for today. I quickly told my secretary to book some first class flights to South Africa for my wife and me. “Hide the price,” I said. One can overdo the “transparency” thing. Then it was back to limo, for the trip home and another cigarette.
C’est moi le Président. Je m’en fous …
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1 Note after a bad day in the Administrative Council: “Hmmm, looks like I was over-optimistic when I wrote my diary. Those pesky people at epi have started having opinions again – see http://ipkitten.blogspot.se/2015/12/rumours-from-ac-and-four-remarkable.html?showComment=1450377145556. I’ll have to work out what to do to stop such misbehaviour. I guess I will suspend the whole of epi! Je m’en fous.”
Tomorrow we shall publish “Battistelli’s Furious Love Affair With French Power: Part V” and there will be nothing funny about it. Later in the week we shall have some more exclusive stories with new material. █
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