Secret Tatonka Files: The GM interviews, part 1

We at Tatonka Think Tank have just obtained transcripts from some sort of Seattle Mariners interviews for the job of General Manager...from January and February 2007!!

Don't ask me how it's possible to receive data from later in time, although if I had to guess, there would probably be some technical-sounding words like flux capacitor, dilithium crystals, tachyon waves, and Amarillo Design Bureau in the explanation. In any case, we felt obligated to share these trans-chronomenal transmissions with you, the reading public. Duty of the press and all.

Installment #1 is reproduced without editing below. It seems a bit choppy, and you might wish to don your tin foil hat before reading:

Mr. L: We have, ahh, brought you in from...well, we've brought you back from the dead in order to restore some credibility to our organization, and also to energize ticket sales. I'm not sure how it works [chuckles all around table], but our friends at Wolfram & Hart have assured me that it is perfectly safe.

Mr. S: I wanna be a rock'n'roll singer. I wanna be a rock'n'roll star.

Mr. L: You've done that already; we're asking for your help in a different field. It's still entertainment, though, and it will involve addressing the public frequently. We agreed before the ritual that you would be just the kind of individual who could help us. Now, we've gone to all the trouble [lackey whispers in Mr. L's ear]...indeed, we've gone to the great expense of bringing you back to the living, and we would appreciate it if you took this interview seriously.

Mr. S: Well you can stick your nine to five livin'. And your collar and your tie. You can stick your moral standards...

Mr. L: [laughing] Moral standards? No, no, you've got it all wrong. You don't think we would reanimate a twenty-six year-old, moldering (but mostly well-preserved) corpse of a rock legend because we sought to enforce moral standards? Here's what we're about, and you should note that it matches your own stated goals quite closely. First, we like money. Lots of money. We have an organization that separates individuals from their money through the clever use of Gramscian hegemony. That is, we convince thousands upon thousands of humans to identify with our organization, such that they will go to great lengths to give us their money. They believe that by giving us that money, they are helping themselves! If that's not effective mystification, I don't know what is!

Mr. S: What?

Mr. L: Let's take it slow. WE want YOU to be our frontman.

Mr. S: I got to get my kicks some way.

Mr. L: Great. As I was saying, we make all the important decisions, but we need a frontman, a mouthpiece as it were, to relay those decisions to the public and to other GMs.

Mr. S: What's the catch?

Mr. L: I'm sorry?

Mr. S: I said, what's the catch? What's so horrible about this gig that you have to raise a zombie from the dead to do it?

Mr. L: Well, uhhh. Yes. There's just.... The fans.

Mr. S: The man is back in town.

Mr. L: Well, hmmm. Let me put it to you this way: our scheme of mystification has worked a little too well. You see, some small, tiny little minority of our fans (not the mainstream ones, of course), they've, ahhh, they've adopted the organizational identity pretty completely. They blog, for instance...

Mr. S: They WHAT? Is that the new term for...

Mr. L: Ahem. They make use of computer technology to transmit their ideas and messages to other like-minded sources of our money.

Mr. S: I'm a wanted man. Public enemy number one.

Mr. L: Your confusion will wear off as you get used to being alive again. As I was saying, these rebels, er, individuals are ruthless. Why, our last GM...

Mr. S: Aha, here it comes...

Mr. L: ...was following our instructions, but the fans turned on him after what WE had projected to be a very safe move that would improve our profit margin 92.5% of the time.

Mr. S: So you want someone to cover your arse?

Mr. L: That's essentially the job, yes.

Mr. S: Well, I've always said it's a long way to the top...Do I get an expense account, a limo, a private jet, and secretarial staff?

Mr. L: Of course!

Mr. S: I'm your man.

Mr. L: Good then. Now the interview can begin.

Mr. S: What? You can stick your golden handshake...

Mr. L: Don't get excited, I just have a couple of questions that I need to ask you. We've cast our net very widely this time; we will NOT tolerate another failure on the scale of either of our last two attempts to fill this position. You're not the only candidate.

Mr. S: You wanna see me do my thing? All you gotta do is plug me into high...I said high...High voltage rock'n'roll.

Mr. L: Excellent. How are you at sticking to orders confidentially?

Mr. S: I've worked in the record business, man. What kind of a question is that? You ask me 'bout the clothes I wear...

Mr. L: Fine, fine. Can you tell convincing lies? Are you a good negotiator?

Mr. S: She was holdin' a pair. But I had to try. Her Deuce was wild. But my Ace was high.

Mr. L: Ummm, OK. Alright, one last question: If you were thoroughly intoxicated, could you still follow orders through the haze?

Mr. S: Well if you're lookin' for trouble. I'm the man to see.

Mr. L: Don't call us. We'll make our decision soon. I'd shake hands, but.... We'll be in touch.