While everyone here, grokking to fullness the many similar tales over the years:
fully realizes that MBAs have neither Class (nor the capacity, any longer to feel..) shame, each new incident always comes like a slap-in-face, to one's sensibilities.
Bizness Itself has devolved to something much worse than Winner-Take-All; the corollary now appears standard: the Loser must be humiliated, herded into a paneled-cage and escorted-Out, lest the slightest ripple of sub-rosa Discontent interfere with the daily dose of Soma in the water-cooler, by which the inmates are kept reasonably docile.
While awaiting similar Escort Services processing, after the next coin-flip turns into a blackball.
I would hope that you can apply obv. analytical talents next, towards one of the (uncountable) New Fields which this depression shall necessarily spawn as it approaches Official Full-race Depression magnitude (~~when, worldwide, people notice that Muricans no longer Know How to 'make' anything but specious unparseable paperwork?
They spin
IT appears to be the perfect whipping boy, alas -- the Suits can't even balance their checkbooks, need calculators to do anything beyond simple arithmetic, thus have no idea how onerous to complete -- are their grandiose coding 'plans'. (I gather this is often the case; it's been reported in so many metaphorical ways all-along.)
May this unplanned nastiness catalyze a few Hmmms, an escape from the hamster wheel of Boolean expectations (I know that I am, in retrospect exceeding-grateful that for me/then: The Fortran Course managed silently to kill-off any remaining youthful exuberance about such prestidigitations.) Always there was physics, and no MBA-Suit can fuck with That, even in PowerPunt. ymmv.
Simply, there just Has To Be a renaissance for those with the imagination to do the creative stuff which formerly characterized Americans, before they surrendered to the thrall of MBAs (those who looked at the Hard=Real courses in the catalog and picked, unerringly the fluff-filled specious fantasy of bizness-Econ and its perpetually failed Formulas-for-Excess.)
We, collectively either begin to use that once-brainpower, For Real ... or ... (pick your favorite doom: whimper or Bang.)
Luck in transition,
Ashton