There’s a policy at my office that I’m not allowed to make jokes for the final few weeks before a software release. That’s because my jokes have a history of unexpectedly coming true.
The most famous example of this came about a year and a half ago during a deployment planning meeting. When we got to contingencies, I half seriously asked something about the plan in case there was a problem in the server room, for example, somebody tripping over the power cord.
The IT manager laughed and said whoever it was would have to be extremely clumsy since there were six different power cords involved.
That evening there was a network outage involving the electrical system. It took a day and a half to get everything back in order.
So I’m not allowed to make jokes any more.
I’m not sure if this is a curse or a super power, but I just grin and laugh whenever the project manager feels the need to bring up the topic (at least once per release). And up until recently, I thought I was alone in bearing this burden.
There’s been a joke floating around in email for at least 10 years (and probably longer in other forms) which takes the form of a letter from home written to a young man who has left hillbilly country. The letter, from a relative, contains a number of the “usual” hillbilly gags such as “I know you can’t read very fast, so I’m writing this very slowly.”
It ends with the sad tale of a group of the young man’s friends who drowned when the pickup they were riding in went off the road into a lake. The letter explains that the driver was able to get out, so he survived, but everyone riding in the back drowned because they couldn’t get the tailgate down.
It sounds like just another joke taking a shot at “ignorant hillbillies,” but I’ve come to believe that whoever originated the joke may possibly share my gift/curse for having jokes come true.
This evening I read the account of a Florida woman who had to call 911 from her cell phone because she was trapped in the car after the battery died and the power locks stopped working.
I fear for our civilization.