The Lull, part 26

Vision this: My professional association, Society for Technical Communication, is conducting dozens of small discussion groups around the globe to collect information for strategic planning. Sleep deprived and overworked, I must have let my attention wander for a minute during a meeting, as I suddenly found myself appointed facilitator for Israel's discussion group. Despite disruptions in train service, major road detours, and fast-looming holidays, seven volunteers show up at our offices in Akko on Friday morning to discuss the future of our careers. The session itself is lively, but nothing compared to the impromptu debate that errupts when we start to leave! It is always a delight to talk to professionals who feel passionate about their work.

But while we take our field very seriously, we also recognize the unintentional humor supplied by poor practioners of the profession. You can find some good examples in these winning entries from the 2005 Worst Manual Competition. (Thanks to Karmiel reader LS for sending this.)

Bar Mitzvah Blogging: The youngest son of a good friend at Shorashim (the moshav next to Karmiel) is bar mitzvah today. Genetically incapable of carrying a tune, Matan still blasts through the service with aplomb, and manages to hit a vague approximation of the trope (the liturgical chanting used for Torah and Haftorah readings) a few times along the way. Shorashim has a tradition of putting on a show after services, with skits and songs to roast the bar or bat mitzvah kid, and today was no exception. Then, after stuffing ourselves with a massive lunch buffet and catching up with friends, we waddle home.

A diatribe on "disproportionate": During the war, there was a joke making the rounds about a little girl in Paris who gets attacked by a rottweiler. A passer-by leaps in to pull the dog off of her. He manages to get the dog into a choke hold, but the dog won't release its grip on the screaming child. The man finally breaks the dog's neck, saving the child in the nick of time. A reporter pushes through the growing crowd.
"That was amazing!" he exclaims, slapping the exhausted and bleeding man on the shoulder. "You'll win an award for valour for this, for sure. What is your name and where are you from?"
"Yuval Sapir, from Israel," replies the hero.
That evening, Le Figaro runs the headline, "Israeli Murders Family Pet."

It's the first thing I always think of when someone uses the word "disproportionate" these days. Check out Honest Reporting's latest on the myth of the disproportionate response.