There was a short video made back in the 80’s that made a huge impression on me called, “Bambi meets Godzilla” Maybe you’ve seen it. It’s epic. There’s Bambi in the meadow looking all dewy eyed and innocent and munching on daisies. Then you are treated to that iconic Godzilla roar and Bambi looks up, alarmed. You see one giant lizard foot descend out of nowhere and Godzilla stomps on Bambi.
The first time I saw that film as a teenager I think I laughed so hard I cried. I’ve always had a soft spot for the big rubber beast. There is something about the classic Towering Terror of Tokyo that has always turned me on. He sort of reminds me of “Uncle Bob” Martin.
Fast forward to today where I find myself roaming the complacent halls of corporate America. I must confess there are times when I look at a room full of cubicles and crave a little of that Godzilla action. Yeah, you heard me right, I want to rage right in there full of radioactive terror and unleash a little destruction! I want to turn up the Blue Oyster Cult to eleven and breath a little radioactive fire and and smash a few cubicles with my mighty rubber tail! Gazing down over the typical cubicle warren, I think I know how Godzilla felt looking down on an innocent fishing village just before smashing it all to bloody oblivion.
You see I have a confession to make: Godzilla and I have a lot in common. I call it my “Godzilla complex” Here’s why:
Godzilla hates tiny little walls. So do I! You know how villagers are. Living quietly within the confines of their narrow little cubicle walls. They’d all be going about their daily drudgery, testing, writing code, filling out TPS reports, and generally just bowing down to the man. But as anybody who has watched Godzilla movies will tell you, Godzilla will lay waste to anything with walls. You see, he’s actually a huge fan of transparency, and nothing defeats transparency like cubicle walls. Fortunately, nothing defeats cubicle walls like a hundred foot long lizard tail and the aforementioned nuclear breath. That breath just melts ‘em right down to the designer berber carpet.
Godzilla hates meetings. Me too! Picture yourself at a typical ghastly corporate meeting. Some dork has called you in to a meeting with no agenda and genius couldn’t find a consensus if you clubbed him over the head with it. You know the kind of meeting I’m talking about. There you are thinking, “Oh great, Just 5 more of these meetings before I can go home and get some work done.” That’s when you need Godzilla. You know Godzilla doesn’t like your meeting when his dorsal fins start to glow red. He’d let out one of those monster, mind bending shrieks of his and then he would bite the head off the bozo who called the meeting. He wouldn’t stop there either. He’d probably use his radioactive breath to melt the face of the marketing guy sitting next to him. Then he’d smash the conference table into splinters with his mighty rubber tail and storm out of the room. Meeting adjourned. Oh God that felt good…
Godzilla hates architecture. What a coincidence! Me too! Nothing spells doom for a decent, well run project like architecture. Now I’ve seen enough Godzilla movies to know that if there is one thing that the Rambunctious Rubber Raider does well is destroy architecture! He takes out most of downtown Tokyo! That speaks to a serious…no, pathological hatred of architecture. That’s because Godzilla knows that architecture is the enemy of simplicity. There! I said it. I feel much better now. It took a giant rubber lizard to teach me that lesson. And a fifth of vodka.
Godzilla hates impediments. Nothing brings out the Raging Radioactive Rubber beast in me like impediments. Nothing. The thunder lizard and I share that in common. Nothing stops Godzilla either. Not robots. Not aliens, not a two headed dragon thing. Or a moth creature…or a retarded looking turtle…Nothing!
So what are you? Bambi or Godzilla?