Here sits the accountant on his throne,
imbuing each syllable with a kingly (and,
of course, a professional) tone.
He looks on his underlings with a self
satisfied eye,
not realising that esteem is impossible to buy.
Is it true, dear reader, that every man
has his price
or does it remain, in practical terms, just the
proverbial throw of the dice?
Unaware of anyone but himself, he begins
his “important” briefing/report/meeting.
Making very little real sense, his blather
closely echoes a sheep bleating.
He is enthralled by his own significance
and completely oblivious to his obvious
irrelevance.
The “audience” suffers on!
Let us move now to his slaughter
of English inference and nuance…
The poet now interjects to beg the
readers to excuse her “pedestrianising”
the important accountant and his prized
“code”.
The writer of verse was once convinced
that clear, correct language allowed
the “end users” to comprehend and to
decode.
“One” is tempted now to surrender all
belief in meaning
when faced daily with such gobbledegook as
“We must juniorise [or seniorise because it
matters not] our cohort.”
Or
“We must mentalise the reality
and then (in a solemn tone here)
accountise our results.”
And, of course, we must espouse emancipatory
accounting,
in spite of universal confusion about
whom
or what
or when
or
where
such freedom will embrace.
The accountant continues in a sonorous
tone,
“If we are going to be journalised,
we must disconfirm outdated usage
in order to quantise our meaning…
Now, go forth to methodise, theorise
and operationalise!!”
In the face of such onslaught, the poet
has abandoned couplets
and asks two heartfelt questions:
“What on Earth do you mean?”
AND
“How does this claptrap enrich the
“revered” profession?”
Surely critical thinking and pervasive skills
(= current buzz words) will demand,
“Go forth and learn to communicate
meaning.”?
It is, dear reader, a great tragedy
that few will bother to “practicalise” this.
