He is the man who can turn a simple question into a maze, a straight road into a roundabout, and a five‑minute briefing into a forty‑minute lecture that leaves everyone more confused than before.
He is known in official circles as “Senior Policy Consultant,” but the public knows him better as The Advisor of Confusing Advice.
His greatest strength is his vocabulary.
He uses long, complicated words that sound intelligent but mean absolutely nothing.
Ask him a simple question like, “What should we do?” and he will respond with something like:
“We must consider the multidimensional implications of the evolving socio‑administrative landscape.”
By the time he finishes, no one remembers what the original problem was.
He never gives a direct answer.
Instead, he gives “perspectives,” “angles,” “layers,” and “frameworks.”
If someone asks for clarity, he nods wisely and says, “Clarity is a journey.”
If someone asks for a plan, he replies, “Plans must emerge organically.”
If someone asks for a deadline, he smiles and says, “Deadlines restrict creativity.”
His advice is like fog — it looks thick from a distance but disappears when you try to hold it.
He speaks in circles so perfect they could be used to teach geometry.
He can talk for an hour without committing to a single idea, and yet everyone leaves the room thinking he said something important.
His true genius lies in his ability to avoid responsibility.
If a decision goes wrong, he says, “I had suggested a more nuanced approach.”
If a decision goes right, he says, “This aligns perfectly with my earlier guidance.”
Either way, he wins.
He dreams of one day writing a book titled “Strategic Ambiguity: The Art of Saying Nothing with Confidence.”
It will be 400 pages long, and every page will say the same thing in different words.
Until that masterpiece arrives, he continues his noble duty:
Speak. Confuse. Escape. Repeat.