"Hey, I feel like I've been wandering around in a dark wood!  What's going on?  And who the heck are you?"
    "Hi," said the stranger.  "I'm Virgil, and this is the Workplace.  I've been assigned to guide you."
    "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Virgil.  I'm Dante."
    "Oh, I know who you are.  As I said, I'm your assigned guide.  And my real name is Publius Vergilius Maro."
    "What?" asked Dante.
    "That's why everyone just calls me Virgil," said Virgil.
    "And ... exactly what's going on here?"
    "You've been wasting your time writing poetry!" chided Virgil.  "It's my job to show you a better, more productive way.  The Corporate Way."
    "Wasting my time?"
    "I ought to know," said Virgil.  "I was a poet, too.  And look what it got me!"
    "Um, what did it get you?" asked Dante.
    "I only made Level 1 of the Workplace," said Virgil.
    "I don't understand," said Dante.  "Who sent you?"
    "Why, the CEO, of course," said Virgil.
    "What's a CEO?  And what's all this about levels?"
    "Ah.  If I may begin more or less at the beginning," Virgil began.  "What you think of as the universe is actually a vast Corporation headed by a Chief Executive Officer, or CEO.  What you see now is a Division of the Corporation.  We call it the Workplace.  The Workplace is a video game divided into nine Levels.  Each Level is more challenging and more prestigious than the last.  I only made Level 1 and can never hope to advance to the next Level."
    "Why is that?" asked Dante.
    "Because I lived at a time before there were computers and cell phones and outside partnerships, I've hit my professional ceiling.  If only Augustus had opened up a College of Computer Science!"  Virgil began to sob.
    "Now, now," comforted Dante.  "Why don't you tell me a little more about this Level 1?"

Level 1:  The Pre-Technological

    "As you can see," said Virgil, "nothing ever happens here."
    Level 1 had a lazy, rustic feel to it.  The sun was shining.  People sauntered at will along the sidewalks and through the fields.  Some swam in the numerous ponds that dotted the landscape.  Others played at gymnastics and other games of athletic prowess.  Others sat on benches and read books or wrote wasteful poetry.
    "Uh, this really doesn't look so bad," ventured Dante timidly.
    "Not bad?" chirped Virgil, his voice breaking into a high-pitched whine.  "Not bad?  We are doomed to fritter away our days in pointless, unstructured, unplanned, undocumented, unmeasured, unproductive pursuits!  We waste valuable time sleeping.  Sometimes all night!  Sometimes till noon!"
    "I'm afraid I still don't see what's wrong with that," Dante persisted.
    "You don't, eh?" said Virgil archly.  "Well, we get no health insurance, no 401(k), no vacation, and no stock options!  That's just for starters!  This is not to mention the fulfillment of devoting one's life to the Stock, the ecstasy of abandoning oneself to the Procedure, the challenge of achieving the next Level!  But I see that you are still skeptical.  Let us proceed..."

Level 2:  The Public Sector

    At Level 2, Dante saw ten people laboriously pushing a boulder up a hill.
    "Hey, that reminds me of the torment of Sisyphus," said Dante.  "He was the guy who repeatedly pushed a boulder to the top of a hill, but each time he was about to reach the summit, the boulder would slip and roll back to the bottom."
    "You think I never heard of Sisyphus?" replied Virgil in an injured tone.  "This is not Sisyphus.  Just watch."
    After much puffing and heaving, the ten people eventually reached the summit of the hill and pushed the boulder over.  There was much congratulating and high-fiving.  Then they returned to the bottom of the hill.  At that point, the original boulder was replaced by two boulders, and five of the people were removed.  Then a disembodied voice intoned, "You have to do more with less!"
    So, the five people labored to push the two boulders up the hill.  The boulder that had three people pushing it made it to the top, but it took about three times as long.  The boulder that was being pushed by two people kept rolling back to the bottom.  When the three successful pushers had finished with their boulder, they returned to the bottom to help the other two.  But those two were removed, and two more boulders were added.  Now, there were three people and three boulders.
    "You have to do more with less!" droned the voice.
    "This is the public sector," said Virgil.  "The workers here are lazier, stupider, and less competent than the workers in the private sector.  That's why they can never get anything accomplished.  Not only that, but they get evenings and weekends off.  Shameful!"
    By the time Dante and Virgil moved on to Level 3, a lone worker was struggling with seven boulders.

Level 3:  The 24 - 7 Crowd

    "Now, this is Level 3," said Virgil.
    Level 3 had the look of a pinball game.  A long procession of workers trooped patiently through the entry lane.
    "Watch this!" whispered Virgil excitedly.
    The plunger slammed the lead worker from behind and sent him off like a rocket.  He hit the first target with a crackle of electricity.  Worker and target lit up like twin beacons.
    "Hee, hee!" chortled Virgil.  "We call that a 'page.'"
    The frazzled worker bounced off like a rubber ball.  Each time he headed off in one direction, he collided with another target or bumper which gave him another jolt and sent him off in an entirely new direction.  Just when he came tumbling toward the exit ramp, a flipper would pop him back out for another series of shocking direction changes.
    "Ouch!" said Dante.  "Don't they ever get any rest?"
    "Of course not," said Virgil.  "They belong to the Company.  They're on duty 24 - 7."
    Dante was beginning to get a little queasy.  "I think I'd like to move on to the next Level," he said.

Level 4:  Getting Help:  The Communication Loop

    "The object of this game," said Virgil, "is to get help before the Screaming Weenies get you."
    "What's a Screaming Weenie?" asked Dante.
    As if on cue, an eardrum-rattling screech was heard, and a feathered ball of teeth and claws plucked away a luckless player.
    "Um, was that a bird or what?" asked Dante.
    "Yes," said Virgil.
    "So, how do you get help?"
    "It's rather simple, actually," said Virgil. "You just pick one of the 'Help' buttons.  Watch."
    There were three Help buttons.  They said "Web Site," "Telephone," and "Real Human Being," respectively.  Another player had appeared on the scene.  He pressed "Real Human Being."  A Screaming Weenie leapt straight from the button and devoured him in one gulp.
    Virgil laughed uproariously.  "A common error," he gasped between guffaws.
    "But that's terrible!" protested Dante.  "What a sneaky, awful trick!"
    "No, not really," said Virgil, starting to regain his composure. "Anyone who has made it this far in the Workplace should know you can't depend on people.  He got what he deserved."
    By then, another player was pressing "Telephone."
    "Thank you for calling the Help Desk," said a voice.  "If you want to speak to a human being, press 1.  Otherwise, go to our helpful web site."
    The player hesitated, almost pressed 1, then went to "Web Site."  Before he could press it, he became a Weenie weenie.
    The next player chose "Web Site" straight off.  When he pressed it, a screen popped up.  "Choose a support group," it said.  He immediately clicked on one.
    "This guy's pretty good," said Virgil.  "A lot of them fiddle around trying to figure out the right one, and then, bang!  Or screeeech!"
    "Fill out your request for help," continued the Web Site helpfully.
    The player's hands flew over the keys.
    "Thank you," said the Web Site. "Your request has been submitted."
    He looked relieved, even a bit smug.  However, time wore on with no help in sight, and the player started to get nervous.  He clicked on a button that said "Request Status."
    "Your request has been rejected," it answered as the Screaming Weenie carried him off.

Level 5:  The Approval Gatherers

    "I'm glad to get off of that Level," said Dante. "It didn't look like there was any way to win."
    "Then I'm sure you'll like Level 5 better," said Virgil reassuringly. "The object of this game is to blast the invaders before they kill you."
    The sky was filled with swords, each dangling by a thread.  The current player was carrying a laser cannon.
    "Kind of like Swords of Damocles, huh?" suggested Dante.
    "Enough with the classical references already," retorted Virgil.
    "At least, it looks as though he's amply armed," said Dante. "This looks like a fairer test."
    The player sprayed the sky with his blaster, but nothing came out.
    "Oh, there is just one little thing," said Virgil as the player got sliced in two. "The blaster won't work until he gets his permissions."
    "What permissions?" asked Dante.
    "He has to get four permissions before he even tries to fire that thing."
    "How does he do that?" asked Dante.
    "Oh, he just has to scrounge around until he finds them," replied Virgil. "They could be anywhere:  under a bush, behind a rock, even behind one of the swords.  As soon as he finds one, he has to put it in his basket."
    "He'll be skewered by then," protested Dante.
    "Probably," admitted Virgil. "But this is Level 5.  Only two kinds of players here:  the Quick and the Dead."
    "So, once he has his four approvals, he can start blasting those things, huh?"
    "He can try," said Virgil.
    "Um, what do you mean try?"
    "He may still need more approvals," said Virgil. "You never know when the game will add another one."
    "How do you find out?" asked Dante.
    "Just pull the trigger," said Virgil. "If it doesn't work, keep looking."

Level 6:  The Reviewers

    "You'll love Level 6," said Virgil enthusiastically. "The player here is supposed to take a basket of goodies to Grandma's house."
    "I have no classical reference for this one," Dante apologized.
    "Hah!  Didn't think you did!" Virgil chortled.
    "So, what's the tricky bit here?" asked Dante, who was catching on by now.
    A player in a red outfit was carrying a basket along what appeared to be a peaceful country lane.  Suddenly, she was accosted by a large wolf.
    "Let's see what's in that basket!" demanded the wolf.
    The player showed the wolf the contents of her basket.
    "Cookies, eh?" growled the wolf.  "What kind of treat is that for a sick old lady?.  Go back and get apples!"
    The player went back, replaced the cookies with apples, and continued her journey, only to be accosted once more by the wolf.
    "Wrong kind of apples!" carped the wolf. "You need Pippin instead of Red Delicious.  And who told you to get rid of the cookies?  Bring those, too!"
    The player returned with Pippins and cookies.
    "You can't go to Grandma's this way," said the wolf. "You need to take a left and take a loop 10 miles around that mountain."
    Just as the player was coming around the mountain, the wolf stopped her again.
    "I'm sorry," said the wolf. "That basket isn't up to standards.  You need to get another one."
    After awhile, the player returned with a different basket.
    "You can't go to Grandma's now!" objected the wolf. "It's the wrong time!"
    "Ah, I see," said Dante. "So, how does she get by that wolf?"
    "Don't ask me," shrugged Virgil. "I'm only at Level 1."

Level 7:  Project Management

    "Now, that rings a bell," said Dante. "Looks like ol' Tantalus from the myth."
    Indeed, a man was poised between a tree full of fruit and a pond of sparkling water, apparently unable to decide which to approach.
    "So, do they recede as he approaches?" asked Dante.
    "I've warned you not to be influenced by classical precedents," chided Virgil. "This isn't like Tantalus at all.  He has to get both fruit and water to get to the next level."
    "So, why can't he?" asked Dante.
    At that moment, the player bent over and took a long drink from the pond.  Then he reached for the fruit and fell over dead.
    "The water is poisoned," explained Virgil. "The fruit has the antidote to the poison."
    "Ah," said Dante. "So, he should have eaten the fruit first!"
    Just then, another player snagged a piece of fruit and ate it.  As he bent over to drink, he fell face first into the water and drowned.
    "What was that about?" asked Dante.
    "Oh, I forgot to tell you," said Virgil. "The antidote is also a powerful soporific."

Level 8:  The Bridgekeeper

    "What are all those people lined up for?" asked Dante.
    "They're trying to get across the bridge," said Virgil.
    "And what's stopping them?"
    "Why, the Bridgekeeper, of course," answered Virgil. "You have to have the right stuff to be allowed across.  Just watch!"
    "No approvals, eh?" barked the Bridgekeeper. "Back to Level 5 with you!"
    "I didn't know you were supposed to keep things from the previous Levels," said Dante.
    "Neither did he!" laughed Virgil.
    "Level 5 for you, too!" spat the Bridgekeeper.
    "But I have all my approvals..." protested the hapless player.  But he was zapped away before he could finish.
    "What was that about?" said Dante.  "He did have his approvals.  I could see them.  Is there a bug in this program?"
    "A bug in the Divine Video Game!" gasped Virgil. "Never!  The approvals that sufficed for Level 5 don't necessarily cut it on Level 8!"
    "They don't?" asked Dante.
    "No, indeed!" declared Virgil. "The Bridgekeeper can add more anytime he wants!  Level 8 is not for the faint of heart!"
    Just then, the harsh voice of the Bridgekeeper cut in again.  "No napkin on your goodies!  Back to Level 6!  Hey, you!  Too much fruit for the water you're carrying!  Back to Level 7!  Hee, hee!"
    "He certainly seems to enjoy his work," remarked Dante.
    "And why not?" replied Virgil. "He's awfully good at it."

Level 9:  Loving It

    Level 9 had a familiar look to it.  There were people rolling boulders up hills, people shooting around like pinballs, people being abducted by Screaming Weenies.  In fact, every drama Dante had seen before on the lower Levels was re-enacted on Level 9.  But they were all going on at once, and players were bouncing from one game to another, sometimes playing two or three at the same time.
    "I guess it adds a degree of difficulty to have to jump from one game to another," Dante observed, "but I don't really see enough difference to qualify this as a separate Level."
    "Ah, just wait," said Virgil knowingly.
    Dante was particularly impressed with one of the players.  She was rolling boulders with one hand, dicing Screaming Weenies with the other, and stomping wolves with her feet, all while ricocheting around the pinball machine.
    "She's amazing!" said Dante, mesmerized.
    Then she disappeared in a shower of sparks.
    "Oh, she won!  She won!" said Dante excitedly.
    Virgil shook his head slowly.  "Back to Level 2," he said.
    "Why?" asked Dante without comprehension.
    "Because no one ever goes all the way back to Level 1," said Virgil. "That's only for the totally benighted, like me."
    "No, no!" Dante protested. "She was doing so well.  She was beating every impossible game!"
    "But she wasn't smiling," said Virgil.
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "It isn't good enough to be able to do all this arbitrary, self-contradictory, impossible crap," explained Virgil. "You have to like it, too.  That's what separates Level 9 from the others."

Game Over

    "If anyone ever masters Level 9, what happens then?" asked Dante.  "There must be great rewards."
    "Oh, yes," said Virgil.  "You're returned to the System.  You get a Blue Screen."
    "Um, a Blue Screen?" asked Dante. "That's it?"
    "Correct," said Virgil.  "We call it 'Getting Laid Off.'"
    "And what do you get for Getting Laid Off?"
    "Nothing," said Virgil.  "But you've won the Game."
    "But what happens after that?" pressed Dante.
    "Nothing happens after that," said Virgil. "Game over."

We all owe Virgil a debt of thanks for his timely intervention.  Instead of a raft of confusing, difficult-to-understand poetry, Dante has given us the following Medieval classics:
1)  The CEO, which outsold Machiavelli's The Prince by a million copies.  It also made The Prince a corporate tool to do its bidding.
2)  The Seven Habits of Highly Obnoxious People.