Sif

Half Bat, I Can’t Say Fairer Than That

Tonight’s rantillious (that word typed with a tattifilarious nod to the late Sir Ken) offering is linked to one of my previous rants regarding those in high places and how, however crap at their jobs they are, they keep getting offered more and more slices of the same heavily stuffed pie. The idea behind this started, as most of my adventures do, in the pub after a few rounds of beer had been dispensed with and a discussion struck up. I say discussion because that’s how it started but soon it turned to bants, then got a little heated and then, a little while later, quite a bit stabby. I’m lying to make my life sound more exciting than it is, there were no knives and very little banter as my mates are well onto the fact I can play devil’s advocate just to get my jollies at their rising blood pressure.

The subject that didn’t have us stabbing each other that night in the pub? Massive, huge, horrendous, fuck-off salaries. How big they are, who earns them, why…and how I can help level this rather obscenely bumpy playing field to make everyone (mostly everyone) happy.


I’m going to pick an easy target because my desire to do research is lacking and everyone knows these buggers are literally slopping around in cash on the 15th of every month. Let’s give a big hand to…University Vice Chancellors, apparently a real job that despite the appearance of ‘vice’ in the title has nothing to do with keeping the corridors of further education supplied with drugs and prostitutes…as far as I know. These chaps & chapesses have got some serious remuneration going on, here’s a couple of examples of the wedge given out: £429,000 and £448,000. That’s a year, of course, it’s nothing obscene or indecent. On top of this, there is often six-figure signing off fees when they split and when coupled with their pensions the annual salary figures can double. Positions can also come with cars and/or residences and they routinely claim expenses. Expenses, what for!? A feck off big wheelbarrow to take their money home in?

But let’s be fair, maybe they are worth these massive amounts of money. Maybe they graft their nuts off, ruining their health to provide a service that no other could possibly supply. Wait a minute, I said Vice Chancellor, didn’t I? Not Vice Shovel Pilot. These people aren’t breaking their backs building houses or laying roads. They’re not on the front line in foreign lands or facing the perils of policing the modern day streets. So what exactly are these Vice Chancellors doing for their crust…a gold plated crust worth nigh on £50 an hour…every hour…of every day.

It appears their job is administrative. For those of you who don’t know, administration is the career route you take when you can’t be arsed. It’s indoor work, you knock off at 5 o’clock without fail and never work weekends. It was always my favoured choice of job whilst I was allowed to be a part of what you lot like to call society. You get to stay clean, there’s often flexi-time and, nowadays, they give you a computer so you can look at kittens on the internet during your downtime, which, if you’re clever, is most of your working day. If there’s petty cash to be had, you have it. There’s free stationary, sometimes free coffee and always enough gossip to go around for everyone to turn into a 90-year-old grandmother*. You can also make gossip up…but that’s part of the reason I am now an outcast from the humourless rabble.


So these Vice Chancellors (VC from now on because they’ve got some big balls in one sense of the phrase) don’t appear to be earning their money through honest sweat and toil, maybe they are just (I can’t think of a better way of putting this so please excuse the language) fucking brilliant; completely and utterly, honest to God, fucking brilliant. Well, apparently that’s not true either because some of the highest paid VCs are at the helm of some of the poorest performing universities. That can’t be right, why haven’t they been sacked? Well, one problem might be that sacking them could cost a bloody fortune and like I will never pay for p&p maybe the universities don’t want to pay for anything in return too, so they keep all their pricks in line for an easy life.

Good job these clowns aren’t paid from the public purse, I say. Actually, I say that but it appears to be a bit of a grey area and I did do some research on this but it wasn’t conclusive so I can’t say for sure they don’t but on the other hand I can say…of course, they fucking are, the bastards. They are part of the education system and our taxes go into that, I find it hard to believe that these VCs with fingers stickier than toffee maker’s crotch don’t manage to come out with gloves made of our tax sovereigns. I did manage to find out that some of these VCs actually sit on the boards that decide their pay rises, nymphos in a dildo shop springs to mind. Parliament should put a stop to that…oh, wait, isn’t that how they come up with their pay rises too? And if these VCs are on holiday as often as their feckin’ students that are always in my way to the bar seem to be, their actual hourly rate must be measured using Pi or something in an unfathomable formula.

Disgrace. Scam. Greed. Gluttony. Thiefdom. Just some of my favourite words and they could be applied to the target of this rant too. What should be done about this state of affairs? Is there anything that can be done? I’m glad you asked because there is…and regular readers may not be overly surprised to know that at the centre of this genius stroke is me.

I can’t find my actual CV (I think the ‘Guinness Book of World Bollocks’ people are still looking over it) but I will outline my experience and expertise for you here and now. I have worked in administrative positions before and I know how important it is to have every scam and hiding place sussed out within your first few hours. I would ascertain exactly how many days off sick I could take before having to face a disciplinary procedures hearing. I know that you struggle with work, however sick, to prove to all and sundry ‘what a soldier’ you are and that then gives you carte blanche to take time off sick when you’re not because everyone is totally convinced you must be really, really bad to not show up…despite the truth being you’re on a beach in Spain. Plus if you do go into a hermetically sealed office when sick, you can take out half of the floor with one energetic sneeze – bonus high-five. If you walk around with a clipboard and a pen no one ever questions your purpose and its good cardio to burn off that second breakfast you have at ten o’clock whilst skiving in the subsidised canteen. I am a wiz at this shit and I could probably get signed affidavits to prove it…if the old buggers that tried to manage me in the past are still alive.


So it’s obvious I can do the job. Bit of filing, a bit of the old blah-blah to some pointy-headed self-important suit wearers, no problem; it’s like I was born for the job. Vice Chancellor Sif, that’s got the perfect ring to it and all the kids will think I’m the coolest dude to ever put on one of those capes after Batman. Now we get to the best bit, I will do the job for half, yes half, the wage. That’s right, I am going to knock 50% off the bill.

Boom! I believe the word is.

Better still I reckon I can run two universities at 50% off each salary. That’s 100% savings, which is literally insane. Obviously being so generous with my skills means I will have to timeshare; two days in each seat of learning. Monday and Tuesday in one, Thursday and Friday in the other. Wednesday is for travel time between the two. And of course Monday will be a late start due to time zone adjustment and Friday is POETS day naturally, that’s like an administrative job law or something.

Writing these rants makes me feel good, like a weight has been lifted as I share the horrors and inequalities of life with you, my readers, and smash them with my thoughts, in word form, into something far more palatable for all concerned. Tonight, with a little help from some beer, I have managed to save ‘the system’ £448,000, whilst at the same time being better off to the tune of £224,000 and another £224,000 myself. It’s not wrong to line your own pockets if you make a difference for the good, like I have, and in addition to my already substantial self-sacrificial public service you can count on me putting the Vice back into Vice-Chancellor because in a free market economy everyone should be allowed to earn a little extra on the side.

*Grandmother may sound sexist but most blokes don’t live to 90 so shut up and enjoy the extra years.