Transmission 06 · Administration · Drowned Moon I
Daily Stand-ups of the Esoteric Order
Fifteen minutes, they said. The minutes are longer at this depth. The blockers are older.
We stand, in theory. Half the chairs are stone and the other half are suggestions. The table lights up with yesterday’s runes, which is our agenda if you squint and have lost a little blood. Someone always starts with what I drowned yesterday. Someone always is “almost done” awakening the sleeper. That someone has been almost done for three fiscal quarters. We put it in the parking lot. The parking lot is a trench.
Action items are written in a medium that stains. Then they are rewritten in a tool that sends notifications, which is worse. The notifications arrive in dreams and as calendar invites titled Quick sync — bring a goat if you have one (optional). I mark them tentative. I am always tentative. Tentative is how you stay invited without becoming minutes.
Yesterday / today / blockers
Yesterday I combed the committee and answered two mails from the surface world. Today I will translate a prophecy into something a project manager can burn down. Blockers: the stars, the tram, a colleague who uses the word alignment for both planets and slide decks. We circle the table. Bubbles rise. Someone’s camera is off because they do not have a face on Tuesdays. This is accommodated. We are, despite everything, an inclusive cult.
This meeting could have been a ritual. The ritual could have been an email. The email could have been silence, which is the original agile.
I have suggested we try asynchronous worship. The motion failed 7–1, the one being me, the seven being a single member who votes with each arm. Fair. I will bring better pastry next time. Pastry is the only stakeholder management that still works after the moon goes wrong.
If you are asked to facilitate, keep it to three questions and do not make eye contact with the table. The table is taking notes. The table has a better memory than any of us and a worse sense of priority. It still thinks the goat is in scope.
Attendees: eight chairs, one absence excused by transformation, one tentacle acting as proxy. Next time: retro. Bring feelings. Leave bones.