BDS [Brain Dead Syndrome] must not be confused with the medical and legal term that Governments and politicians grapple with in having to decide when a seriously ill person on life support systems actually ceases to live. The clergy of many religions are grappling with the same problem; does life end when the heart stops or when the brain finally dies. It is an ongoing discussion and of course, a sensitive issue.
Dead Brain Syndrome [DBS for short as is common practice today] refers to the collapse of normal human brain functions in an otherwise healthy body. Add a massive ego to occupy the cavity where the human brain normally functions and put the incompetent soul in a high-tech position that should really be a human brain function job; juggle the mix with demands from management for more sales, come on guys, move those modems, hurry now, come on move those contracts, get the reluctant customer to sign that contract now, yes take his money and get him out of the sales office; move ‘hem faster, on the double, well, there you have Vodacom SA.
Aided by an ailing Telkom SA that holds the monopoly in fixed landline operations but now also trying to worm its way into the lucrative wireless market and falling over its own feet in the process Vodacom thrived at starters. Spurred on by a gullible public, sub-standard transmitters were installed in church towers thus saving on the huge expenditure required for proper transmission towers.
When the overload cracked, Management reaction was to tell the customer “Sir, you modem is outdated, take this new one, just sign here for the contract” or “Madam, you need a new computer, sure madam, you need a new computer at least every three years and a new modem with it, sure Madam, yes for your children Mam, just sign here.”
In the meantime the old infrastructure remained in the Church Tower in Redelinghuys and when Data Modems were added it just conked.
But at Vodacom the staff setup had changed. Young people who have never had to write a business letter and still probably can’t do it, who is trained only in how to get signatures on contracts, take the customers’ money and go on to the next idiot just dying to have his own too, well they have never been to Redelinghuys and don’t even know about the transmitter in the Church Tower.
It crashed as it would have done sooner or later.
My friend who likes life and all the satire it brings with it wrote an email when his system collapsed. He was wise before he wrote the email; the locals all got together with their computers, modems and some good old fashioned common sense and pretty quickly realized that we need our own tower on the hilltop just outside town. When the tower started to operate we carried equipment around and tested our stuff.
Then my friend satirized Vodacom; well, he actually called them Brain Dead and circulated it on the Internet.
This is the email response just received from Vodacom:
“Dear Sir,
We have noted the contents of your e-mail below and have taken advice. We will therefore not be responding to your e-mail.
Yours Faithfully
Floris”
To which he has now replied:
Good morning Floris
I must say that to say that you won’t respond and then in the same email do respond and making sure that I see the name of your attorney in the CC list I merely refer you to the contractual obligations in your own contract.
You are in breach of them, good Sir. Comply with them; that is surely not too much for a customer to ask, or is your own ego now so big that it fills the entire cavity between your ears leaving no space for the human brain given to you at birth?
My advice to you is to do your job, that’s all I am asking you to do.”
The saga will probably need and update. Watch this space. If you don’t see anything I should add that a helpful soul that my friend did find and who fixed his OE Email after the Brain Dead at Vodashop, Weskus Mall, VREDENBURG, Western Cape had demolished it whilst installing a new modem that works at slow snail speed from the transmitter in the Church Tower, gently informed my friend that he is fixing it on his old Password and quoted it for him to verify it. That surprised my friend and he asked the helpful soul how he knew the Password. “I have it right here on the list in front of me, Sir” was the answer.
And they and all the Banks tell us that nobody knows your Password?
Jaksonian Philosophy 