The horrors of the bureaucracy were manifold. First among them, was the sheer weight of regulation, which seemed to grow larger every year. This, of course, was accompanied by the necessary forms and documentation to assure whomever should someday examine the records, that the regulations were properly accompanied by forms and documentation. These also grew, in accordance with the need to record compliance. Normally, that would be enough. But in Frogsbane, they added something rather spectacular, which was the permanent bureaucracy itself. There, nestled comfortably among the papers, filing cabinets and number two pencils, lived the permanent bureaucrats. Some were party members of extinct Frogsbane parties. Some adhered to beliefs and ideals long abandoned by civil society. All were powerful beyond measure. And you might encounter any one of them, due to the Frogsbane policy of enhanced capabilities toward a shared workload. They maintained a secret schedule of rotation, so that any one of them might be in charge of the particular bureaucratic office to which it was your misfortune to require access. In theory, this made the bureaucracy immune to work shortages. In practice, it produced a number of lackluster martinets, whose offices were occasionally shaken up and put “into order” by one of the dedicated old school bureaucrats, whose party and policies might both have achieved extinction some decades previous. Even if you survived the first encounter, a later review of department records might reach out from the grave and pull you out from the light and the warmth of the living world.
Braving the Bureaucracy: Episode Three
The horrors of the bureaucracy were manifold. First among them, was the sheer weight of regulation, which seemed to grow larger every year. This, of course, was accompanied by the necessary forms and documentation to assure whomever should someday examine the records, that the regulations were properly accompanied by forms and documentation. These also grew, in accordance with the need to record compliance. Normally, that would be enough. But in Frogsbane, they added something rather spectacular, which was the permanent bureaucracy itself. There, nestled comfortably among the papers, filing cabinets and number two pencils, lived the permanent bureaucrats. Some were party members of extinct Frogsbane parties. Some adhered to beliefs and ideals long abandoned by civil society. All were powerful beyond measure. And you might encounter any one of them, due to the Frogsbane policy of enhanced capabilities toward a shared workload. They maintained a secret schedule of rotation, so that any one of them might be in charge of the particular bureaucratic office to which it was your misfortune to require access. In theory, this made the bureaucracy immune to work shortages. In practice, it produced a number of lackluster martinets, whose offices were occasionally shaken up and put “into order” by one of the dedicated old school bureaucrats, whose party and policies might both have achieved extinction some decades previous. Even if you survived the first encounter, a later review of department records might reach out from the grave and pull you out from the light and the warmth of the living world.