Fake News: Job Networking Site LinkedIn.Com Tied to Bizarre Behavioral Syndrome

Last Monday, in a remarkable joint announcement, the U.S. Center for Unexplained Mental Eccentricities and Oddball Neurology (CUMEON) in Atlanta, the Association of Wrist Surgeons and Hand Therapists (AWSHT) in Dallas, and the Computer Monitor Manufacturers and Other Devices of Entertainment (COMMODE) in Chugwater, Wyoming reported that the Internet professional networking site LinkedIn.com is at the center of a number of bizarre, disturbing trends. In recent years, each of these groups has witnessed an alarming rise of one of their key statistics which seemed to defy explanation.

CUMEON has observed a spike in the number of cases of instant mental depression, an illness completely unknown before 2003, during the past year which is rising in parallel with the severity of the U.S. economic recession. CUMEON spokesperson, Bea Sereus, described the malady as "an otherwise normal individual is suddenly found sitting at a personal computer, staring blankly ahead, mumbling incoherently, scarcely possessing the will to live."

According to AWSHT spokesperson Ima Terdd, the number of severe wrist/hand injury cases has been growing at an alarming rate, also spiking over the past year. Remarkably, as reported by Ms. Terdd, "Each of the above crushingly depressed, babbling individuals was also found to have suffered a blunt force trauma injury resulting in severe cuts, bruises, broken bones, and mangled tendons in the dominant hand and wrist. These injuries appeared to have occurred simultaneously with the sudden depression onset."

COMMODE spokesperson Porce Lynn Throne then described a parallel spike in sales of new computer monitors, curiously not associated with a similar increase in computer CPU sales. "We were initially quite baffled by the monitor purchase surge," Ms. Throne said. "Then we were contacted by CUMEON and AHSHT with information that thousands of severely mentally depressed, mangled-hand patients were being found sitting in front of shattered computer monitors. Our subsequent lab tests failed to reveal any common manufacturing defects leading to the sudden breakage of the computer screens." Their obvious conclusion was that these monitors had been violently punched by the users, but why? Whatever the reason, COMMODE was nevertheless thrilled with their increased replacement monitor sales.

Mystified authorities surmised that the aforementioned patients must have viewed something while using their personal computers which triggered some sort of immediate and violent mental and motor meltdown. Perhaps some insidious computer virus had entered the users' brains, forced the monitor-punching reflex, then shut down their higher mental functions. Fearing that terrorists had launched a heretofore believed-to-be-impossible cyber attack on America that was turning us into mangled-hand instant zombies, the U.S. Armed Forces and Homeland Security went on full alert.

Trying to prevent widespread panic in the U.S. population, the authorities had managed to keep this incredible outbreak information under security wraps. But still, the number of cases kept climbing, always with the same pattern: unknown computer message or image trigger event, violent punch reflex, shattered computer monitor, mental vegetable.

Not until 11 year-old Lorraine Quiche directly observed her father's attack two weeks ago was a clue to the mystery outbreak trigger revealed. After a grueling 14-hour game of hopscotch/charades/interrogation session were the authorities able to begin to piece together the bizarre chain of events.

Lorraine's father, Crabbe, a 50 year-old career banker, was one full year into his second job layoff of the decade. In a desperate attempt to resurrect his career, he had signed up with the Internet networking site LinkedIn.com to reconnect with former work colleagues, vendors, and old schoolmates. He had heard that LinkedIn.com was the best way to take advantage of the "old-boy" network to get a new job. Something he observed while on that site had provided the stimulus to his sudden attack and breakdown. But what?

Quite by accident, when his wife, Veggy, was subsequently visiting him at the psychiatric hospital, Mr. Quiche stumbled upon the antidote to his sorry mental condition. While rummaging through her pocketbook, fascinated by the bright, shiny things inside, he pulled out the hip flask containing Mommy's Little Helper Triple X Tequila and took a few swigs. The color quickly returned to his face and the mindless babbling amazingly coalesced into complete sentences. He was back. His stunned doctors then quizzed him to determine the connection between LinkedIn.com and his recent attack.

Quiche rose and recounted the following scenario. While building his LinkedIn people connection list, beginning with his most recent colleagues and friends, he quickly located the names and profiles of a large number of old acquaintances. One by one, he called up their information pages and read their career histories. These old associates were now Senior Assistants, Managers, and Group Leaders. "Good for them," Mr. Quiche explained. "They were all smart, hard working people. They deserve those successes."

Then, Mr. Quiche explained, as desperate as he was to utilize every possible lead to find a job after such a long unemployment, he had expanded his search to include his former boss, N. Sideous Woerm, whom he hadn't really liked, and who he believed to be a complete idiot. "Then I read Woerm's employment history and current job title: Founder and Chief Executive of Today's Billionaire. Tick, tick, tick, KA-BOOM." Punch, monitor glass shattered, zombie-land.

Armed with information of Quiche's amazing antidote, psychiatric hospital personnel ran to liquor stores all over America to stock up on tequila. Given shots of the magic Triple X elixir, their many thousands of mangled-hand zombie patients were incredibly returned to mental normalcy. When quizzed as to the trigger of their breakdowns, their stories were uniformly similar. "I was on LinkedIn at the county library computer, trying to find a job and move out of my box under the bridge. I ran across the name of that schmuck loser that fired me. He's Executive Vice President at We're Filthy Rich Magazine. Tick, tick, tick, KA-BOOM," said Downen Milukk. "There I was, usin' my step-mother's computer in her basement, tryin' to score a job usin' LinkedIn. I stumbled on my old criminally insane roomie's profile. Now she's Chief Executive Officer of Wall Street Bailout Acceptance Corporation. Tick, tick, tick, KA-BOOM," said Sari Luzer. On and on, the stories went, all with eerily similar trigger events. All on LinkedIn.com.

Ultimately, with the trigger and antidote to the mysterious outbreak, which they dubbed "LinkedInFuriation,"
finally solved, the CUMEON, AWSHT, and COMMODE joint task force on Monday issued the following stern warning to computer users everywhere. "Log in to LinkedIn.com and make connections with former colleagues at your own peril. Should the job title of former colleagues lead to an outburst of the punch reflex/mental meltdown syndrome, make sure your family has lots of tequila shots close by to apply immediately as the antidote. And maybe type with pillows on your hands."

DISCLAIMER - Our lawyers require public disclosure that the preceding article was to the nth degree fabricated circular planar mixed lunchmeats (complete baloney, Ed.)