I need a cryptologist. Or, a brain surgeon.....

So here comes IR, back from a day of who knows what. He comes in with a ream of continuous feed paper and asks...

IR - "So, does anyone in your, ya know, circle of friends know anything about, ya know, cryptography or codes?"

Me - "Nope."

IR - "Oh, well, hm. Take a look at this."

He proceeds to show me pages and pages of printout that's nothing but gobbeldy-gook. You know, like when your printer driver gets fouled up, or you use the wrong driver for your printer?

Me - "You know, that's nothing but a fouled up printer driver."

IR - "Driver? hm. hm. Well, ya know, it just kinda printed outta nowhere."

Me - "Ok. But it's still a fouled up driver. Why would you think you needed a cryptologist for that?"

IR - "Oh, well, it seemed to me like this might, ya know, mean something.

Me - "Yeah, it means someone on your network's got a fouled up printer driver."

IR - "Oh. hm. ................. hm."

And then he walked off. Now, my take on this is that somewhere in that addled brain of his, he got the idea that perhaps the 'aliens', or maybe God himself was trying to tell him something through a menagerie of garbled text from a printer.
How much farther can this possibly go??