Marketing - a lesson from history

My phone at work rang earlier, which was an unwelcome distraction from the Internet, as always.  Worse still, it was someone who'd been put through to the wrong number.  He wanted to place an order for a digital product, and I had no idea who might be able to help him in his quest.

The reason I was lost at sea like this is because the job titles that my colleagues labour under are at best nebulous, and at worst wilfully obfuscating.  It turned out in this case that the person who deals with digital products was someone I have worked with for five years.  She sits about twenty yards from me, and I would count her as a friend.  And yet, I have no real idea what it is she does to keep the wolf from the fiscal door.  This ignorance isn't aided by her title as vice emperor of strategy parameter facilitation or something.  I checked, incidentally; facilitation isn't an actual word, not in English at any rate.  You may find it in some disreputable dictionaries, but that doesn't mean shit these days, let's face. it.

The worst department for this is marketing - that renowned refuge for the corporate weasel.  The difference with marketing types, however, is that they actually take these sterling-silver nomenclatures seriously.  It's enough for your average marketing bod to have a grandiose job title and an age-inappropriate wardrobe.  That's why they're content to fill their days guffawing at each other's weak puns and pointing and laughing at the internet's funniest cat movies.

I finally got so I couldn't take it any more, which led to the following poignant exchange recently:

Self: [sidling up to marketing johnnie] What is it you do exactly?  [gesturing to rest of office] We're all intrigued.

marketing johnnie: I facilitate brand purview.

Self: How so?

mj: By creating a nexus of social media...

Self: I'll stop you there if I may.  Specifically, what is it you do?

mj: [doe-eyed sideways glance at marketing colleagues]  We brainstorm below-the-line digital content.

Self: What do you do with the rest of the day?

mj: I...[looks at lap.  silently mouths vowel sounds.  briefly looks up, and immediately returns eyes to lap]...

Self: [sotto voce] I think it would be best for you and for everyone if you took you stuff and wandered off into the night, don't you?