Quote:
Originally posted by Sir Bert Preast:
Hey Dave, how come you hate your work so much now? You used to love it, no?
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I love the general field in which I work, I just hate the specific place I work these days.
Recently there have been a series of spirit-crushingly poor, gutless and embarassing decisions, and they've sapped all the fun out of it. Local Authorities are always bad, Bolton just happens to be bad even by those standards.
In fact, f*** it, I'm just going to tell you exactly what happened.
We worked for months and months negotiating the finer details with the British Museum to allow us to loan The Warren Cup as the star object for an exhibition.
Now, the cup is a rare Roman piece of silver, and happens to be decorated with two scenes of homosexual love-making. In both cases, it's an older man with a youth, probably around 14. This was an acceptable part of Roman society, and we were going to use it to discuss how standards change and how morality evolves.
Then, at the last minute, just before all the agreements were in place, some slimy little backstabber who had an issue with it went telling-tales and ended up getting the leader of the council believing that we were somehow going to be seen as endorsing paedophilia.
I wanted to argue our case, explain the context, as did my manager. Unfortunately, our senior bosses wouldn't let us as they didn't want to get on the wrong side of anyone in the council. They just bent over and took it (ironic really...).
To make matters worse, they then implied it was our fault, because we hadn't sought council opinion first which wasn't true, and frankly shouldn't be something we have to do. We're employed to make these calls, they're not.
So we bow to petty-minded censorship, allow one of our own "team" to stab us in the back, and I'm told it's all my fault.
To hell with the lot of them. I'm out of here the first chance I get.