Pardon me while I rescue this, I thought this wasn't too bad a piece of fiction. Seems that an ISD takes things a little too seriously and to the very letter and dot over every " i " of the rules.
Inspiration for the piece
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Put on your tin foil hats or in my case a second tin foil hat and a tin foil suit for added protection.
I have already given my feedback here.
So, now join me on a little exploration of the imagination.
Consider
what it must be like to work at CCP. You go through years of training,
learning your craft, you have all these wonderful dreams of the games
you will make. One day, you get invited to an interview and the job is
up by the north pole! Strange. You apply and get the job. It turns out
to be working on a space ships game.
Maybe you were hoping to be
working on a fantasy game, with lots of bright colourful magic but no
worries, they have rainbow lasers and you craft a really beautiful
galaxy back ground for people to look at.
Life is really
interesting and so nice, all those other people like you, all passionate
about these things. There you are, having a good day, quietly painting a
little model of a rifter in your cubical when a shadow suddenly appears
on your desk.
You drop the model!
It breaks!
Then this monotone voice asks you in an overly polite way to follow you to a meeting room.
You see the back of the man in the grey suit.
Looking around at others you try and figure out who he is and what this is about.
Everyone else looks away and pretends to be busy.
You feel a sense of dread but follow the man into a dark room.
You notice that he is wearing a light grey shirt with a grey tie and grey shoes.
Thinking to yourself how he might look so much better with at least a colourful tie.
He
turns off the lights and turns on a projector. Then he proceeds to bore
you for the next six hours about his vision for the company. You snap
awake when he talks about the work you will be doing.
He says he wants to put you in charge of the way the players will see and interact with the game.
You feel great, you feel important.
Weeks go by, you keep sending him drafts and he keeps returning them with suggestions.
You find that the more simple work gets less criticism.
Your fellow workers tell you how he was an accountant in his last job.
Some of the coders complain about how he is judging their work effort by the lines of code they produce rather than the results.
Eventually, after so much frustration, he sits down with your team and the ship design team and runs over designs.
He makes his own decisions on how things should look.
Tells you exactly how he thinks you should do your job.
You can't argue, he can easily just fire you and get someone else.
Taking as long as you can, dragging it out you slowly work on the new GUI.
He
corners you in the break room, bores you for another three hours and
finally warns you that it must be released before Christmas.
You point out there will be quite a few bugs and only a skeleton crew to fix them.
He rhetorically asks if you have a wife or children.
Responding in the negative, he says that you can then obviously make sure things go smoothly.
No Christmas in your home town for you.
Finally, it is out.
You hold your breath.
Your heart sinks.
They hate it.
It is as lack lustre and lifeless as the bean counter in his grey suit.
You start drinking and are mildly drunk even at work.
How
will you ever be able to apply to work at another game company when
this is what you will have to point o as an example of your work?
A dark little story for a dark winter.
Hope you guys like it.
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