Who can picture Max's shoe phone, the Cone of Silence or the entry to Control Headquarters? I have used such gems as "missed it by that much...", "would you believe...?" and "sorry about that (Chief)" on countless occasions since childhood. Only a "Get Smart" devotee understands the significance of these phrases.
KAOS, the evil arch-enemy of Control, was a far shadier operation and its schemes inevitably ended badly for them. Max adored procedure and protocol and his tendency to "play by the book" complicated even the simplest of missions. Siegfried, the nemesis within KAOS, appeared to share many traits with our man Max at Control and they had a rather cordial and healthy respect for each other. Against all odds, Max and 99 always saved the day and KAOS was soundly humiliated.
This week, I am sure that I have landed smack in the middle of an episode, but without most of the laughs. I say "most" as I have a habit of trying to see the funny side of any situation. I have managed to extract a snippet of humour from my latest encounter with Centrelink.
This episode started on Tuesday with a letter from the Centrelink Compliance Team. I have had a relationship of some sort with Centrelink for thirty years and I had never heard of this branch before. The letter made as much sense as one of Agent 86's mad plans. Centrelink wanted to confirm my details to make sure I was receiving the correct benefit. No other information. Except to cheerfully remind me they may terminate my payment if I didn't contact them by 13 November. Que?!
Wanting to sort this issue out as swiftly as possible, I attempted to ring the attached telephone number. In spite of the letter stating I could call between 8am and 5pm, this was not the case in Western Australia. I called just after 3pm and nobody was picking up. In annoyance, I rang the Complaints Line, as I still had no idea what information Centrelink could possibly need.
The long-suffering voice on the other end of the phone proved an excellent choice for Centrelink, as she appeared to be devoid of any emotion resembling compassion. She also told me, without a skerrick of insincerity, that she did not believe Centrelink's automated letters were threatening in any way, shape or form.
Better was to come. I asked if the Compliance Team could ring me to designate which of my details they didn't possibly already have on their system. In a breathtakingly even tone, our complaints officer revealed that the Compliance Team were a "Virtual Team" and were so secret that they were uncontactable directly and certainly didn't ring anybody.
As I write this, the visions of enormous heads floating about in the corridors of Centrelink cyberspace have been activated by my seriously warped sense of humour. At the time, I felt incredibly vulnerable.
On Wednesday, I finally made contact with Compliance Team "head" Jeff/Geoff/Major Tom, who was not terribly helpful in answering my questions directly. He kept muttering about profit and loss statements that we should have submitted to the great Centrelink Chief/God/Cone of Silence and actively tried to dissuade me from seeing our accountant Ryan to sort out this mess. He also made the outstanding admission that the appropriate Centrelink form he was going to issue was "difficult for some customers".
We travelled to Northam on Thursday to visit our Inside Man/Centrelink Codebreaker/Mild Mannered Accountant Ryan with our sorry tale of woe. He responded to our plight by ordering us tea, coffee and biccies, found a convenient phone box and changed into his superhero outfit. He rang Jeff/Geoff/Major Tom to ascertain what information Centrelink required in Plain English.
The Truth Was Out There. Back in June, Michael had decided (even though we weren't required to do so) to bring our tax returns up to date. The industrious Ryan had completed this task with swiftness and alacrity. We had felt like Model Citizens doing our duty.
Centrelink seems to spend far more time checking other departments for Red Flags/Reds Under The Bed rather than having enough staff on the ground in their Centres. That we had completed all our recent Tax Returns had been noticed by the enormous floating heads. Apparently, we should have lodged all of these Top Secret Documents within fourteen (14) days to Centrelink.
Once Ryan had sorted out this extraordinarily Complex Issue from talking to Jeff/ Geoff/ Major Tom, he printed out the required documents so we could immediately hand them into Centrelink Headquarters in Northam. And he did not charge us a brass razoo for his time.
This week has been quite a difficult time for me on many levels. The Black Dog has been nibbling my arse to make sure I know he's there. Actually, on Wednesday night, he announced his presence with an enormous First Strike, reminding me he was wanting to Take Control. That night, I was in my own personal Abyss.
So on Thursday, I was still battered and bruised. After leaving the safe haven of Byfields, we ventured forth to Centrelink. In the past, I have been able to lodge forms, have them photocopied and returned to me in one fairly straightforward move. Not anymore. Photo ID was also required and we had be "Wait to be Called".
Needing distraction, I was playing Solitaire on my phone. When the brisk and humourless representative called my name, I went to face her without Michael by my side. Big Mistake. I was trying to turn off the game without success. She accused me of being rude by playing with my phone and not making eye contact with her. I turned my phone over and she then made the pointed suggestion I could turn my phone off. In my flustered state, my brain had left the room. I felt intimidated and embarrassed. I left the tax returns with her to be processed and fled back to the waiting room chairs.
When my name was called, again, to retrieve our documents, Michael strode over to her desk. I didn't want her to have the satisfaction of seeing my tears. Even so, she couldn't help stamping our initial letter from the Compliance Team with a flourish that showed us, without a shadow of a doubt, who was In Charge.
Today is Sunday and my mood is more stable. Now I can see the humour in this latest absurd encounter with Centrelink. Floating heads, obtuse usage of language and procedures and the purposeful sense of dread created by their communication style are all designed to keep the poor, the sick, the disabled and the unemployed feel exposed as unworthy. The process is monstrous.
Michael paid his taxes during his almost forty years of employment. I received a Parenting Payment from 2005 when I left a bad marriage. Applying for DSP/Carer Payment was an exhausting marathon of endless forms, countless phone calls and extensive visits to the various Centrelink offices. Contrary to some views, any Centrelink document is a maze of confusion and any communication with their operatives can't be taken as gospel. We certainly do not receive Centrelink pensions for fun.
Time to lighten the tone of this post. The Centrelink monolith is less scary is we can poke fun at this institution every now and then. That these people can talk about "Virtual Teams" and "difficult to fill out this document" and that we are required to wait until a Grand Poohbah deigns to process forms or answer enquiries should be treated with as much frustrated amusement as possible. If, in our dealings with the KAOStic system that is Centrelink, we all hold our heads high, laugh a little (or a lot) and treat ourselves with respect, their culture of contempt may change.
Oh, and have a Secret Agent or a superhero or a mild mannered support person on the side.
The long-suffering voice on the other end of the phone proved an excellent choice for Centrelink, as she appeared to be devoid of any emotion resembling compassion. She also told me, without a skerrick of insincerity, that she did not believe Centrelink's automated letters were threatening in any way, shape or form.
Better was to come. I asked if the Compliance Team could ring me to designate which of my details they didn't possibly already have on their system. In a breathtakingly even tone, our complaints officer revealed that the Compliance Team were a "Virtual Team" and were so secret that they were uncontactable directly and certainly didn't ring anybody.
As I write this, the visions of enormous heads floating about in the corridors of Centrelink cyberspace have been activated by my seriously warped sense of humour. At the time, I felt incredibly vulnerable.
On Wednesday, I finally made contact with Compliance Team "head" Jeff/Geoff/Major Tom, who was not terribly helpful in answering my questions directly. He kept muttering about profit and loss statements that we should have submitted to the great Centrelink Chief/God/Cone of Silence and actively tried to dissuade me from seeing our accountant Ryan to sort out this mess. He also made the outstanding admission that the appropriate Centrelink form he was going to issue was "difficult for some customers".
We travelled to Northam on Thursday to visit our Inside Man/Centrelink Codebreaker/Mild Mannered Accountant Ryan with our sorry tale of woe. He responded to our plight by ordering us tea, coffee and biccies, found a convenient phone box and changed into his superhero outfit. He rang Jeff/Geoff/Major Tom to ascertain what information Centrelink required in Plain English.
The Truth Was Out There. Back in June, Michael had decided (even though we weren't required to do so) to bring our tax returns up to date. The industrious Ryan had completed this task with swiftness and alacrity. We had felt like Model Citizens doing our duty.
Centrelink seems to spend far more time checking other departments for Red Flags/Reds Under The Bed rather than having enough staff on the ground in their Centres. That we had completed all our recent Tax Returns had been noticed by the enormous floating heads. Apparently, we should have lodged all of these Top Secret Documents within fourteen (14) days to Centrelink.
Once Ryan had sorted out this extraordinarily Complex Issue from talking to Jeff/ Geoff/ Major Tom, he printed out the required documents so we could immediately hand them into Centrelink Headquarters in Northam. And he did not charge us a brass razoo for his time.
This week has been quite a difficult time for me on many levels. The Black Dog has been nibbling my arse to make sure I know he's there. Actually, on Wednesday night, he announced his presence with an enormous First Strike, reminding me he was wanting to Take Control. That night, I was in my own personal Abyss.
So on Thursday, I was still battered and bruised. After leaving the safe haven of Byfields, we ventured forth to Centrelink. In the past, I have been able to lodge forms, have them photocopied and returned to me in one fairly straightforward move. Not anymore. Photo ID was also required and we had be "Wait to be Called".
Needing distraction, I was playing Solitaire on my phone. When the brisk and humourless representative called my name, I went to face her without Michael by my side. Big Mistake. I was trying to turn off the game without success. She accused me of being rude by playing with my phone and not making eye contact with her. I turned my phone over and she then made the pointed suggestion I could turn my phone off. In my flustered state, my brain had left the room. I felt intimidated and embarrassed. I left the tax returns with her to be processed and fled back to the waiting room chairs.
When my name was called, again, to retrieve our documents, Michael strode over to her desk. I didn't want her to have the satisfaction of seeing my tears. Even so, she couldn't help stamping our initial letter from the Compliance Team with a flourish that showed us, without a shadow of a doubt, who was In Charge.
Today is Sunday and my mood is more stable. Now I can see the humour in this latest absurd encounter with Centrelink. Floating heads, obtuse usage of language and procedures and the purposeful sense of dread created by their communication style are all designed to keep the poor, the sick, the disabled and the unemployed feel exposed as unworthy. The process is monstrous.
Michael paid his taxes during his almost forty years of employment. I received a Parenting Payment from 2005 when I left a bad marriage. Applying for DSP/Carer Payment was an exhausting marathon of endless forms, countless phone calls and extensive visits to the various Centrelink offices. Contrary to some views, any Centrelink document is a maze of confusion and any communication with their operatives can't be taken as gospel. We certainly do not receive Centrelink pensions for fun.
Time to lighten the tone of this post. The Centrelink monolith is less scary is we can poke fun at this institution every now and then. That these people can talk about "Virtual Teams" and "difficult to fill out this document" and that we are required to wait until a Grand Poohbah deigns to process forms or answer enquiries should be treated with as much frustrated amusement as possible. If, in our dealings with the KAOStic system that is Centrelink, we all hold our heads high, laugh a little (or a lot) and treat ourselves with respect, their culture of contempt may change.
Oh, and have a Secret Agent or a superhero or a mild mannered support person on the side.
I have not been at my best this week...
Attempting to contact the giant, floating "Talking Heads" took three calls.
Disempowerment is the Name of the Game.
This is one of their tactics.
So we feel we are trapped in a Cone of Silence...
and may cause the Centrelink clients to feel Centrelink is an evil organisation...
So find yourself a gorgeous Secret Agent
or a mild mannered superhero masquerading as an accountant.
Perhaps Centrelink staff could take note?
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