Apprenticeshi*

I’m watching the first episode of the new season of The Apprentice. The challenge is simple (and the cross-promotions are fast and furious): create a new toy for Mattel. Let me reiterate – create a new toy.

What follows in the show is the worst misinterpretation of the word “create” I have ever seen. Basically, a bunch of guys in suits and girls in nice outfits throw a few ideas up on the whiteboard describing what they think might be interesting for kids. Wow-ee – they came up with an idea and then dispatched the Mattel toy wizards to actually build the product! Whew! They must be exhausted!

And therein lies the problem. The contestants come up with a hazy idea for a toy, and then get some guys who actually know what they’re doing go off and do the actual creating. No wonder people have such a distorted view of businesspeople. If the show were an actual representation of the creative process, there would have been more than just some brainstorming. They’d have hit the streets, seen what kids wanted, checked out what competitors were doing, and so on. Nope, no time for research! We’ve got product to ship!

It reminds me of an episode of South Park in which the underwear-stealing gnomes explain their plan to achieve great wealth:

  • Step One: Collect underwear.
  • Step Three: Profit!

Honestly people. Do you think Trump got to be a bazillionaire by coming up with vague plans for buildings and hand-waving the rest?

Donald: Y’know, I was thinking we should create some kind of building with lots of lights where people just come in, drop off their money, and leave.
Foreman: Yessir Mr. Trump! We’ll start building a casino complex in Atlanta immediately, and be back with your bagloads of cash in the morning!
Donald: A ca-see-noh? Uh, yeah, that. Get on it. Pronto!

Not! How about the boys behind Google:

Larry Page: Hey, Sergey…Sergey! Put down the bong for a second…I was thinking – we should create a search engine! Whaddaya think?
Sergey Brin: Whoa. That’s a great idea!
Larry: Great! Now gimme a hit off that thing and then we’ll go hire some engineers, come back here, get high for six more years, IPO and then wait for our payday!

It’s called work for a reason guys. Last I checked, an apprentice is supposed to be someone who does all of the grunt work under the supervision of an expert in order to gain a deeper understanding of a particular domain – not the other way around. I don’t know what the hell they’re doing on this show.

The Canadian Candidate

Somewhere between the ads for summer blockbuster movies like The Manchurian Candidate and debates on the legality of fictional presidential assassinations, I forgot something: my real reason for being in the States. Yes, I know, it’s shocking! I admit it – I have an ulterior motive, a hidden agenda, if you will, for my current habitation of the United States. I am a secret agent, a warrior on the front lines of Canada’s covert bid for world domination.

My status as an agent of the revolution had lain dormant in my brain recently, its priority lurking somewhere above “keep breathing, for God’s sake, just keep breathing” but marginally below “you really could go for a bacon sandwich right about now”. Then it hit me: mmm…I really could go for a bacon sandwich right about now. And as I perused the back of the package of Safeway Select Bacon while Ashley made breakfast, I was jarred from my status as a sleeper agent for the puck-slapping, syrup-sucking empire by the package’s undoubtedly malevolent hypnotic message:

Canadians have long been respected for their unique institutions – the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (they always get their man), hockey (most of the great players are from Canada), maple syrup (experts acknowledge it’s the best in the world) and bacon.

Mounties? Hockey? Syrup-flavoured bacon?

With a start, it all came flooding back. Of course! That’s what I was here to do – it was all so obvious! And yet I’d missed all the signs. Comrade Shatner had obviously been attempting to contact me, encoding his message in a rehash of a Pulp song so horrid, I’m amazed no one uncovered its true meaning. It must have been urgent – the last time such a dire message was sent, Shatner had to butcher a Beatles classic. It was not pretty (then again, it was nowhere near as weird as what Spock has been up to recently).

With my mental fog lifted, I reviewed the plans to convert Americans to our ways. Flooding the American market with cheap drugs to illustrate the value of socialized healthcare? Check. Brainwashing the masses with imported Canadian rock stars, actors, and subversive films, each conveying subliminal pro-Canada messages? Check, check and check.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that’s right – message received Comrade Shatner! I am proceeding to Stage Two: defeating the entire US military in a bloodless coup. Brendon to base, Brendon to base…prepare to deploy Anne Murray…