After months of discussion and debate, the German upper houses of legislature have voted in favour of levying a mandate on all executive boards for a makeup of no less than forty percent female senior leadership. During the ensuing deliberation there was surely sufficient and competent advocates for the cause, raising and razing the so-called glass-ceiling, but the real gravity of the statement seemed to unfold quite delicately, ushered in forcefully but without necessarily the force of law.
Now that it has been decided, in other words, there is more leisure and license for musing. I wonder what such a statute is really accomplishing, since Germans in general do not seem to be adverse to a matriarchy and are respectful of powerful women—whereas, elsewhere in political circles, the achievements of a woman is regarded sort of skewed, without really saying so, like Caligula appointing his horse as senator. It’s not simply tokenism and was a very radical, though overlooked, departure from laissez-faire lip-service for greater equality in the workplace, but I am not sure what to think about this proposed legislation and I think possibly contrarian arguments were muted during the process for fear that one would appear sexist. Will this new standard in Germany be universally embraced by businesses? Could this be nursing a scenario where established patriarchies are at odds with Germany’s gender-diverse corporate leadership? There is always exclusivity at the top, but I think here, it is not necessarily an old boys’ network, but maybe heiresses and heirs-apparent. Perhaps there were hopes to infuse some maternal kindness into the industrial hierarchy with this equitable composition, but it is likely that no one is really elevated, except into the cut-throat company of borderline sociopaths and dare-devils.
Saturday 22 September 2012
percentile or just like a boss
Thursday 20 September 2012
mitbringsel
I was nearly late to work—although on time is, I suppose, what it’s called, not that anyone else is generally there to notice—because I spied this usual bumper-sticker on an out-of-town pick-up truck parked in a neighbourhood I passed through the day before and I went back to see if it was still parked in the same space.
slide rule
catagories: food and drink, language, lifestyle
polity
catagories: America, foreign policy, labour
Wednesday 19 September 2012
music week: plainsong or bimmeln
The nearly viral nature of communications—especially found in the musical jingles, incidental, errant and intentional peeps and beeps and tones that seem to occupy that real estate between recognition and interpretation, has always been a fascinating subject for me that I think becomes more of a study once one reflects on the auditory cues that one chooses and those refrains that become entrenched and inseparable. What’s memorable and well-marketed went viral long before the term even came about, and it is really a remarkable thing how an idea, offensive, campaign can recreate itself in thought in just about any medium, humming, the catch of a tune, from some flawless orchestral arrangement to something misremembered, tapped and tinny, and even the most abstract of associations.
It’s funny to observe the reactions of people, who of course have an ear for their own personal alerts, and yet when there is some discordant clang, they’re sent digging in their pockets and handbags to eliminate heralding fanfare. Sometimes the beckoning, when positively identified, becomes impossible to ignore and I wonder, unpackaged, what responses people really do have. Does it matter if the alarm is over a ring, pulse or fully-formed melody, and is a song easier to ignore for some since it is not cued for resolution, but rather just stopping? Distraction and abstraction is nothing new—perhaps just in terms of proximity and portability (we can announce the coming of any mood and disposition but our internal soundtracks are rarely made public accessories to communication beyond the signals that we’re about to turn inward and away from our immediate audience). Those associations established over the long-term, commercial jingles, are the same species of transitional siren that can take up residence anywhere, just a bit receded into the background and have the stubbornness of seniority. I remember an misunderstanding that elevated into a tiff over being told to use i-ask to clean the bathroom—properly. What the hell is i-ask, I thought, since there was none in the janitor’s closet, before realizing the that was the European way to pronounce Ajax—which there was not any either but rather a bottle of Meister Proper, the German name for Mister Clean. Fine—but I think the whole matter could have been settled much easier by whistling the Mister Clean song. I wonder about people who grow up with a different (but parallel set) of commercial culture and those without the benefit of bells and whistles and advertizing executives. Likewise, it’s not facial tissue, a handkerchief or a Taschentuch but Tempo or Kleenex, which in fact, does say bless you.
music week: ohrwurm oder before I put on my make-up
Designing to write a bit on the theme of music—pop music, really but we shall see, becomes a bit challenging in a muted landscape. Of course, the internet has propagated and shaped the language of music significantly, until or unless one runs up against a copyright patrol and the recordings are available at one’s home of record or there’s no reciprocal agreement between clearing-houses. That’s a bit frustrating and I wouldn’t what to try to base a composition on a leitmotif that would be eventually scavenged altogether by the copyholders.