Friday, September 30, 2005

Yet more work joy

Not enough time this week for even a short blog.  So here’s a rant instead.  I feel a real sense of déjà vu writing this, so if I’ve repeated myself…..go a-Googlein’ for another blog.  A person happier than me.    

Things are going to rack and ruin at work.

Workload piling up – only two of us dogsbodies left now – the rest are all doing management shit.  Great, and necessary I know, but for goodness sakes, there were once five of us – now diminished.  The wokload hasn’t changed and me and my colleague (who I won’t name) are a) taking on this workload and b) getting complained at when it doesn’t get done on time.  Well SURPRISE fucking SURPRISE.  Do the effing maths yourselves.

Our redundancy notices arrive next Thursday.  I only found this information via second hand sources.

So the poo is hitting the fan, and no one is talking to us.  

And yet we’re just expected to carry on with life as normal.

Sorry bastards, I am a human and I am DEMOTIVATED, OVERSTRETCHED and frigging well PISSED OFF.  

I do hope someone from work reads this.

I did my second lesson of an Alpha Course this week.  Like Nick Cave, I don’t believe in an interventionist God (well, I’ve seen scant evidence of him being such) but I could do with some bloody divine intervention right now.  Though management intervention would be a good start.


Mood:  Oh, bloody wonderful, as you can tell
Sounds: ripping all our CDs to the new big box computer so getting a little taste of everything.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Another crap week in the office

This is a quick one as I’m about to shoot out for a few beers.

I have spent the last week being very, very angry.  Not with the injustices of life, which are tough enough, but at least consistent, but the injustices of work.

My comments in ‘Angry’ a few blogs back apply.  Only now the ante has been upped.  Not only have two of my colleagues either resigned or taken redundancy, but no new staff are being hired, and me and the remaining guy, a junior member of staff like me, are the only ones taking the shit.

And I’ve just been told that a report I spent six hours writing – as well as learning two new pieces of software in order to produce said report, is no longer required.  This notification I received only AFTER I’d written in (in the belief, oh silly me, that there was a deadline of yesterday evening to have it completed).  

The work I don’t do or don’t have time to do is criticized no end.  The work I do brilliantly well is c*nting well ignored.  I am at the point where to be sacked, or for myself to take the redundancy package I might be offered if I ask for it, is a viable, and increasingly attractive option.  

Man, I need a brew or ten.

Mood:  Truly f**ked off
Book:  The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe (8 out of 10)
Music: Rammstein

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Carly installed at uni, parents, invite

Carly moved in to hallos this weekend.  She is now a physio student.  I am proud of her indeed.  I won't dwell on this topic for too long as its outside the remit of this blog, but I have an idea of what my parents might have felt like when I started as a Goldsmiths' fresher back in 1989.  I wish her all the success in the world.

Had the parents over the weekend fixing our shower taps and generally had an easy going time with them.  Went out for Steak (at the adventurously named 'Steak out' chain of pub/restaurants). The food was tough but cheap. Probably won't venture there again.

On Friday, was given a load of MP3s from Crispy at work.  This is itself  wouldn't be an 'event' had it not been for the fact that one of the CDs was by Rammstein.  What a great bunch of tracks!  I loved Rein Raus, and will try and get  translations as the words are all German.  Loved the sheer overblown pomposity of their sound -good music to play during those angry moments.

Wrote invitation to Lynn's 40th birthday bash:

Dear Plebs

You are cordially invited to the sort of coarse, vulgar, rude and
crude event you have come to expect from us.   (This may involve the
swappage of sleeping bags and bodily fluids - see Beverley La Piaget (a pseudonym for a child famously conceived at one of our parties).

And what, I hear you squeal, is this excuse for debauchery being
proposed?  Its Lynn's "39 - been there, done that" bash.  Well with a
life as eventful of hers, the only way is down, so we need to send to
her towards retirement and death as gracelessly as possible and
dammit, we'll give it our collective best shot.

Be there or be…somewhere else.

The date:  19th November
The place:  XXX, Bognor (no, we are being serious!)
The time:  Any time you like but around 1800 is as good a time as any.

There is a range of pubs in the local area, including the XXX bang
opposite.

The arrangements:  Food will be provided.  There will be a lot of it,
so bring your dentures and doggy bag (to put your dog in).

However, you will damn well pay for your own accommodation since we
are neither an accommodation bureau nor American Express Platinum Card
holders.  The aforementioned XXX does rooms at the rather cheeky
price of £18.50 per sweating body.  If you book through us, you'll get a group discount.

So please let us know before 1 October or we'll expect to see you
sleeping in the streets of Bognor.

Music:  Rammsteain
Book:  The Closed Circle by Jonathan Coe
Mood: Tired, pleased with the way thing have turned out with Carly, and not a tinsy winsy bit relieved.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Live well, live badly, die anyway

So Fern Britton is happy being a porker?

http://www.thisislondon.co.uk/showbiz/articles/20334600?source=Daily%20Mail.

Now, I am probably hoping for too much here I know, but I do hope this is the beginning of the resistance towards the diet industry. As quite a corpulent individual myself (17 stone with an easygoing 42 inch waist) I can only applaud her.

Diets don’t work. It’s as simple as that. Not only do they not work, but also they don’t make people happy, unless you are a masochistic control freak. And even then you’re bound to be disappointed in the end when it doesn’t flick the thin switch for the umpteenth time. The only diet, which works, is low carb. I know this because I’ve lost a stone and my blood sugar level goes back to normal – I’m a diabetic so this matters. When I stop, I put on weight and my blood sugar goes ballistic. Simple, empirical stuff.

It’s interesting that the main resistance to Atkins came from two sets of people. Those who can’t stand slebs and all they endorse. I’m one of those, and the fact that Rene Zelweiger or however you spell her was doing it didn’t really matter one iota, particularly as I didn’t know who she was before her name was associated with that mad, population slaying Atkins diet. The other main opponents were those in the diet industry. I wonder why? Could it be because that the only proper way to do low carb is to eat whole, unprocessed foods? Food that doesn’t come pre-packed in a ‘value-added’ box, where less fat equal’s greater greenbacks tot he companies making them. The same folks who make Pringles also produce Slimfast. Something ironic there? I’m afraid the organic-loving tree huggers are secretly endorsing Atkins when they say a back-to-basics approach to food preparation is a good thing. Robert C would agree with you (as long as keep mainly to green veg).

When we were in New York just over a year ago, we found a health shop on the other side of the Hudson which sold a cornucopia of low card products. We were stunned and delighted by the range. Our eyes popped out of our heads. Atkins bread mix for $2.99? For goodness sakes, it was £4.99 in the UK! We stocked up on as much as our little armies could carry. But our mistake was the same mistake the Atkins corporation made in the UK. Firstly, it overcharged us UK buyers. Yawn. But the second mistake it made was thinking that the UK low carbers would fork out two or three times the money for identikit products to those we already knew about before LC-ing. Not the case. And more to the point, low carb versions of ‘normal’ food generally taste shite. In the UK, like every other western country with the possible exception of France, it’s hard to get real food that hasn’t had hydrogenated glutemised wankjuice added to it, but it can be done. And the variety of prepared food may not be much and since the Atkins Corp have left these shores, its now even less, but the beauty of doing the ‘real’ way rather than the American way is that don’t get flashy labels, you don’t get claims about the health benefits you can neither prove nor disprove and here’s the clincher: you pay the same price as everyone else. Tesco’s mince is Tesco’s mince whoever you are.

So in the link above, the main objection I have is not to Fern Britton’s statement that she’d rather be fat and jolly. Its been said to the point of tedium that we as a nation celebrate thin-ness without recognising our own happiness despite looking like a human dustcart. But to stick her neck out is undeniably a brave thing to have done, and good luck Fern. My main objection is to the supposed "expert", Nora Lane, who gave a rather Blair-ite warning about her impending doom. I just wonder how much the diet industry is paying her to bleat in such a hectoring and annoying fashion? Diet gurus have spent the last 40 years getting it wrong. If they were right then we’d all be stick thin and ‘fat’ would be the new ‘thin’. So we spend our lives being lectured about how we are all going to die because we are 2 stone overweight, and we are ‘burden’ to the NHS. Ooooohh, poor NHS. Stop taxing me and I’ll go private then – sounds fair to me. Bollocks argument anyway: once I’m dead (and at my weight I agree this is statistically likelier to happen prematurely to me than Miss Stick over there) then the NHS is relieve of my burdensome self forever. Since diets being sold to us don’t work, it gives the industry an excuse to blame us individuals for doing what humans do. Eating, drinking, shagging and taking drugs.
Well, I’m just glad that we in Britain don’t do Puritanism anything like as well as the Americans. But I can see a day when we’ve been lectured, bullied and harangued to death by people who, if you look at their own little wee farty lives, aren’t any different to us.

So Fern, my blonde haired beauty, stay fat, and thank God someone is resisting in the battle we face against the might and hypocrisy of the government and Big Business to be super-thin, live-forever, silicone clad, Botox-induced clones.

As the saying goes: live well, live badly, die anyway.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Review: Macca's masterpiece?

Early on Sunday, I was awakened by some quite yummy music on BBC London. Should be Sean Rowley, sure? But no, blow me, it was a re-run of Gary Crowley interviewing Paul McCartney, as his new album has just been released. It’s a two-part series, and if the rest of the album is as good as the first part, then I am impressed. The tracks I heard sounded like he wrote them for a latter-day Beatles. I always think that McCartney was the brains of the Beatles, where Lennon was the heart and conscience.

McCartney was the better songwriter, but in some ways more calculated and calculating than Lennon. Sort of a Noel/Liam Gallagher juxtaposition. And neither of them could write songs without the other. The exceptions such as Working Class Hero and Band on the Run stood out for this reason.

However, at long last, it looks like Macca is on back on form. I doubt very much he'll get much radio play on the chart stations (but then, who of any worth does?) , but with a warm toned production from Nigel Godrich of Beck and Radiohead fame, and some rather lovely tunes, he deserves to make yet another few million from this effort. If you liked the Beatles more tuneful efforts (Eleanor Rigby, She's Leaving Home, Martha, For No-One etc) then take a listen.

Standout track (so far): Jenny Wren - love the major-to-minor key change.

Lies, damned lies, and the District Line

You can tell winter in coming. The leaves are beginning to fall, the nights are drawing in (hello and welcome once more, S. A. D) and here’s how I can really tell kidding myself it’s late summer is no damn good any more: the District Line has adopted its unofficial winter timetable.

The District Line, the green line on the tube map, is a long, tortuous route that takes you east-west right through the middle of London. Slowly. The trains, known as D stock, are the most reliable on the Underground according to District Dave’s very informative website. http://www.trainweb.org/districtdave/ .

However, when I left for work this morning, BBC London was reporting minor delays. Minor Shminor. When TFL, the body which administers the tube network, say ‘minor delays’ its like the Russian politburo in the 50s saying that few people might be a little cold this winter and to make things better they’ve travelled east for warmth of Siberia. After arriving at the station, and hearing no announcements at all, not even the bleating, nannyish security messages which they insist of playing at Dagenham East every 20 seconds or so, a packed-to-the-rafters train pulls up after 20 minutes. This says RICHMOND on the front. This then terminates at Barking. Sorry, but geographically, we’re still 25 miles east of Richmond. There’s a Richmond Road in Barking, but that’s just plain cheating, chaps.

Anyway, we are tipped out at Barking, and like cattle, some of us jump on to the C2C train that’s sitting opposite. Just to get moving you see. This train is packed, but the next one is get-on-able. All this time, the RICHMOND District train is sitting on Barking platform 6 awaiting clearance. While waiting for C2C train no. 2 I overhear the walkie-talkie carried by a member of station crew. Overheard was ‘we have a full station here, any idea when the next train is coming?’ to which the reply is ‘we’ve got serious and sustained delays here, there is another train five minutes behind but I don’t know if its terminating at East Ham or going through’. The words to take in here ladies and gentlemen are ‘serious and sustained’

So on the C2C, I dial London Underground’s Customer Service Centre. This isn’t the normal 0207 222 1234 Travel ‘information’ line – actually I’m being a bit disingenuous putting ‘information’ in quotes because the guys there are pretty useful and generally accurate. However, the District Line control room is on 08453 309 874. This used to be advertised quite widely via posters on platforms, but alas, seems to have disappeared within recent years so I consider it a service to the public to post it here I made a note of it on my mobile two years ago and its good to vent your spleen sometimes. It may not achieve much, but only costs 15p or so and makes me feel better. Anyway, I asked the chap on if he would care to define ‘minor delay’ for me as it crossed purposes with mine, and also, the line controller’s at Barking. He said he’s speak to the line controllers on the eastern part of the line and change the message.

Our journey then moved on to Fenchurch Street and a walk to Aldgate. However, at Aldgate, the tannoy was still reporting minor delays on the District. So I dreamt all that then?

Which leads me to one conclusion. One I’ve suspected since moving eastwards in 2000 and being dependent on that green monster which purportedly serves our area. I used to believe that the mis- and quite often entire lack of information was due to incompetence on TFL’s part. Now I just think they lie to us.

Yes, following the rather fine service we’ve had all summer, its time for eastbound UPMINSTER trains to start terminating in at Barking unannounced. Even the drivers sound surprised when suddenly they are asked to take a packed train out of service early. You can hear the annoyance, even empathy with us sheep, in their voices. And although the timetable in our station claims to have been last revised in October 2003, us Zone Fivers way out east know better don’t we?


Mood: Growly
Books: Metro
Sounds: Anne Dudley, “Seriously Chilled”

Saturday, September 10, 2005

Mum and dad's laptop adventure

Mum and dad are now equipped with a new computer, new software, new internet (ugh, dial-up!) and a few quick lessons on how to use it.  Well, mum has anyway.  I can't see dad getting too into it somehow, but then I'm not exactly handy with a screwdriver or monkey wrench so no complaints.

Only someone who knows my parents and their legendary technophobia would realise what a Very Big Deal this is.  But well done old farts, you've done yourselves proud.  Mum has even signed up for an evening course, Computers for the Terrified!  

Hey, they might even start their own blog after a while!

Mood:  Mellow
Music:  Art of Noise
Book: The World According to Clarkson

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

How safe is blogging?

This goes out to the blogosphere generally. It’s a question that up till now I’ve not had to think about too much. But today I found my blog on Google. This means it is now technically in the public domain.  The question I’ve been pondering is this: how safe is blogging?

I’ve been a big fan of VegHead’s blog at

http://www.fatsquirrel.org/bologs/veghead/

for quite some time now.  I happen to know him in a vague sort of way, and he has a great style of writing, some interesting thoughts, and the fact-o-meter is fantastic.   In it, he comments on his work, his mood relating to work, his relationship with his wife – not intimate stuff you understand, but just the fact that she is human, has feelings, both good and bad, and that the course of their relationship isn’t always perfect, though they seem happier than most as a whole, thank goodness.

One of my work colleagues asked me whether they could have a look at my blog.  I’m a bit wary to be honest, which is plainly ridiculous as, since its now Google-able, its there for all to see. And a surprisingly large number of people have indeed just done that. I personally know none of these people.

My fear is that something I say, particularly about work, will filter out, be seen as derogatory by my employer, and land me a pile of shite. I’m not being paranoid – Americans have been sacked for making even innocuous comments about their employers.  See

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=F00E17F63D550C728FDDA10894DD404482

for an idea of what I’m talking about.

Now I’ve not mentioned my employer by name anywhere on my blog, and nor do I intend to.  My return email address for comments is an international Gmail one. But it would not take a genius to work out whom I am employed by.  I’ve not made anonymous, for example, the name of my wife, daughter and family.  I’d certainly have no problem doing so if I believed it would cause embarrassment or hardship to them. Mostly, I’ll just refer to them, in these cases ‘a male friend’ or whatever.  But even if I made the mistake of mis-judging whether someone I knew minded being mentioned (eminently possible), that’s one thing.  It would be my responsibility to justify and/or apologise to any individual friend or relly I offended. My employer, on the other hand, won’t necessarily accept an apology. And I do take my financial responsibilities seriously. This means not rocking the boat, or at least not rocking it to the extent that would get me in front of a tribunal, or worse, sacked.  

Perhaps I’m just being paranoid. But my guess is, that since blogs are now taken seriously by employers in the States, it will soon be the case where someone British is booted out of a job for making comments their employer sees as hurtful to their business.

Mood: Pretty OK
Book: Adrian Mole and the WMDs
Music:  Anne Dudley




Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Sue Townsend's WMDs

I found some weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) while travelling home last night. In need of a book or three, I popped into Books Etc in the rather plush 02 centre on Finchley Road and found, to my utmost pleasure, the next book in a series I’ve been reading since I was about 14. This book is….Adrian Mole and the Weapons of Mass Destruction. These books I like for two reasons:

1) They have been a part of my life (and I’d guess about half a million other 30somethings) since teenage years. Oh, the joy of something which isn’t changing for some faddish reason or other, or at least the sense of continuity. Well, Adrian has changed, but his OCD-related humour is as rich as ever. The same old characters, the terrible/ovely Ashby de la Zouch is a character in its own right (now Adrian has moved to a loft apartment in "The Old Battery Factory, Rat Wharf" – great names). There is Pandora, his mum Pauline, his ever eeyoreish dad and a new love interest called Marigold.

2) Lynn uses a Book Courier to read her endless pile of queued up novels. This is a little machine the size of a packet of 10 fags, which turns text files into synthesised speech and plays them back through headphones, kind of like an iPod for blindos (yes, it plays MP3s too). I use, well, my screwed up eyes to do same. However, before we married, I used to read books to her, and every now and then, a book appears which suits the ‘reading aloud’ bill perfectly. Adrian Moles are the ideal format. I also enjoyed reading Bridget Jones to her. So the reading of this book has a nice, sociable feel to it, and it does at least mean we have a good reason to skip TV for a couple of hours a night.

Sue Townsend, the AM author, is going blind – she might even be stone blind by now, and the outcome of this has surfaced in AM’s gay friend, Nigel, who is now on the partially sighted register. I wonder where ST will take us with this character? I’ve not found any wild inaccuracies yet (myself and Big Wife enjoy having a giggle when sightlings make totally incorrect assumptions about how we live). I also wonder how many pro authors have had to resort to access tech to write their stuff. I’m assuming this was written using JAWS or Window-Eyes…or at least Zoomtext.

I’m up to October 24th, and when Lynn was about to drift off to sleep (as she will do, not matter what is playing, and annoyingly, however good it is), then I had to tell her to hide the book as I’d have been taking sneaky peeks. But from what I’ve read so far, Sue Townsend, is, yet again, a folk hero, and the Victoria Wood of observational writing.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

New desktop PC (hooray)

At last, we are buying a new PC which should mean the last of the very reliable, very old Dell desktop we've been using for the last couple of months following the demise of our once-trusted, but spyware-ridden Fujitsu which has seen us through the last five years.

My sister will be donated the Dell, which is very generous of us, since its not actually ours to donate.





Friday, September 02, 2005

The American people and New Orleans

The kindness and decency of the American people is demonstrated here.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/09/02/national/nationalspecial/02charity.html?th&emc=th

The way it should be.  Now if only the wretched government could also pull its finger out.

Explosion in New Orleans

I’ve just heard that a chemical works in New Orleans has blown. As if the poor blighters need any more problems. The news just gets worse and worse. :-(

New Orleans madness

Firstly, a huge thanks to my Apple correspondent, Diego for his help in resolving some of my Mac questions. Much appreciated mate. I’ve sent you a separate email.

Secondly, just a message to any Americans reading this, particularly those living in the south. Us Brits are thinking about you. I’m pretty doubtful there is much of any worth that individual citizens can do from here, and unlike the Third World, its not for want of cash aid that the good people of New Orleans and the surrounding area – which is the size of the UK apparently – are suffering. It makes the London bombings of 7 July look like a teddy bear’s picnic in comparison. What the heck is the so-called President doing? Having a monumental wank by the looks of it. Watching the news over here, I’m surprised the US government hasn’t requested international assistance, particularly as half the American military is engaged elsewhere. It reminds me a bit of the Russian government's attititude towards the Kursk disaster where by the time international aid was requested, it was too late to save those poor bastards. Is the government of the US too proud to ask for foreign expertise? Once again, it looks like the government of the States is looking inwards rather than seeking help from friendly allies like those in Europe and Australia. And all this time, more and more New Orleans citizens are dying, being raped, catching all manner of water-borne diseases and generally having a sh1t time of it.

This year has been one for plagues and disasters of biblical proportions hasn’t it? Along with Chicago and San Fran, New Orleans was one of those cities I would have loved to visit, but I guess that’s off the cards for the foreseeable.

Mood: Looking forward to the (very quiet) weekend we have in store
Music: BBC London and the old proggers and kings of hair, Focus
Reading matter: Mac pages online