Saturday, September 19, 2009

Buraucracy Rules: An Irate Citizen's Letter

TORONTO -- Hey everybody, David Hunter here. Joseph Lane is on a week-end bender with his buddies and has entrusted his beloved National Affairs Desk to me for the time being (mistake!) so true to my nature I will try to amuse and entertain as best I can, and hope nothing litigious happens in the process. A funny thing came across the news desk here in Toronto; apparently an irate citizen took exception to the bureaucracy thrown his way when applying for his passport and wrote this letter to the passport office. I don't know if it's a real letter, there's no way to know that, but if it's not It's still worth a gander because it speaks the truth, however inelegant and inconvenient it is.



Dear sirs,

I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe this. How is it that Radio Shack has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a cable t.v. from them back in 1987, and yet, the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date.

For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand? My birth date you have on my social security card, and it is on all the income tax forms I've filed for the past 30 years. It is on my health insurance card, my driver's license, on the last eight damn passports I've had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before being allowed off the plane over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done at election times.

Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's name is Maryanne, my father's name is Robert and I'd be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and when I die!!!!!!

I apologize, I'm really pissed off this morning. Between you an' me, I've had enough of this bullshit! You send the application to my house, then you ask me for my fuckin' address.

What is going on? You have a gang of Neanderthal assholes workin' there! Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to dig up Yasser Arafat, for shit sakes. I just want to go and park my ass on a sandy beach.

And would someone please tell me, why would you give a shit whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days? If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I'd sure as hell not want to tell anyone!

Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other end of the city and get another fuckin' copy of my birth certificate, to the tune of $60. Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day?? Nooooo, that'd be to damn easy and maybe makes sense. You'd rather have us running all over the fuckin' place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some asshole to confirm that it's really me on the damn picture - you know,the one where we're not allowed to smile?! (bureaucratic fuckin' morons) Hey, you know
why we can't smile? We're totally pissed off!


Signed


- An Irate Citizen.


P.S. Remember what I said above about the picture and getting someone to confirm that it's me? Well, my family has been in this country since 1776 ........ I have served in the military for something over 30 years and have had security clearances up the ying yang ........ However, I have to get someone 'important' to verify who I am - you know, someone like my doctor WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN INDIA !

Sincerely,

You Sure In The Hell Should Know Who.

12 comments:

  1. Hey there Mr. Hunter...don't be weirded out by me consistently using Mr. as a prefix to your name...i do it to everyone because a) it sounds funnier, and b) If you've stayed alive long enough to become a decent writer, in my opinion you deserve it. Even if you were 9. You're not 9 are you Mr Hunter?
    Thank you for taking the hull as our dear editor slips into the depths of liqour and god only knows what other types of abuse. Peace and safety be with him until his return.

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  2. And shit, while I'm at it, I'll also say that I'd find it hard to believe this was not a real letter. Far too enjoyable, this felows rightful rage... And if it were fake, WE NEED TO RECRUIT THE BASTARD, eh hem, author..and quickly!! One more agent of influence in the N.A.D. webuverse network! Cheerio!

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  3. Funny, funny stuff. This man's rage, whether fictional or not, is how many of us feel come income tax time, or when applying for a birth certificate (oy, try dealing with these meatheads if you have had an unassisted homebirth, ye gods, thats a rant for another day). Red tape, passing the buck...it makes one wonder why folks in the civil service make as much money as they do, the secret must be in the ability to say 'that's not my department, so and so, at here and there might be able to assist you, please hold while I transfer your call', *YAY 10 minutes of musak!* ouf.

    Thank you David for keeping the lights on, and for feeding the cats will I spent the weekend debauching. All is well, I am not nearly as hungover as I should be, and aside from a voice that is nearly lost, and the odd sniffle, I am right as rain...ready to bitch, whine and carry on.
    Cheers
    J

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  4. As always you are a man of truth, and a dedicated writer, even when afflicted with influenza (That word always sounds more ominous when spelled out, doesn't it?)

    Get better soon pal. I now await Matt Byron's comments on this matter...as he is a avid comment watcher like me.

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  5. Yes, the word influenza is far more terrifying that "the flu", as one congers up visions of entire villages in the 1500's stinking of death, with the dying crawling down the cobblestone street through rivers of vomit and excretus, and "the Flu" just sounds like a womens talk show. But there are truly more important issues...

    WHY exactly are you, Joseph, NOT as hungover as you "should be"? Squandered opportunity!
    I'll tell you what, if a couple of staff writers at MY blog said, "here, we'll take care of THIS, all YOU have to do is go get fucked up for the weekend, I'd take advantage likely to the point of good old fashioned hospitalization. Selah.
    Glad you feel right as rain, sir!

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  6. There was much consumption. I begin early and ended late, seems karma, and not good judgment saved me from the horrors of the morning after this time.

    Flu, influenza, it matters not, what matters is that I have been phelgmy for days...horrific verbiage be damned.

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  7. I think this comment section is almost better then the posts! We should publish them as the NAD-gate tapes...

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  8. Hmmm, how about a weekly best of? Shit, Brian from UB40 deserves a couple of his comments published as posts for sure.

    Staff writer? Wow, how much are they paying you?

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  9. I was making fun of Matt calling me a "staff writer" for the NAD. Although, the pay is crummy (there is none), it's still fun!

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  10. Dude if this thing ever takes of, IF IF, you will be heavily compensated. That said, did I start this blog with the idea that it would make me money, nope. Hell I am shocked that it is doing as well as far as readership is it is. According to Google Analytics, the NAD has had almost 700 readers and 1600 or so page reads in the last 2 and a half weeks. Not huge numbers, but better then I would have expected.

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  11. DONT MAKE FUN! If you like the term contributor better go ahead...but I hale from the "act as if" school of making shit happen...hence Joe is the editor-in-chief, you, Mr. Hunter are some publishing, consulting supervisor, as well as STAFF writer along with myself. Doesn't it make shit more more entertaining!?
    Also, HUGE round of applause for the increase in NAD readership and visits...GO TEAM!!

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