Another conversation that really happened.
THE RADIO: Some people are saying Michael Jackson isn't really dead.
ALSO THE RADIO: I don't think the LA County Coroner would go along with a scam like that.
ME: Yeah, but how would he even know if he had the real Michael Jackson or not?
In other news: They say the estate of John Merrick is looking to buy Michael Jackson's bones.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Speaking of Zombies...
Or, Good news, bad news
The thing is, I'm a curmudgeon. A contrarian. If not a crank, I am at the very least cranky. So, while I admire Michael Jackson's artistic talent, I'm not really what you'd call a "fan" of the King of Pop. And I've always been more than a little creeped out by his body modification issues and the whole... thing. With the kids. It's just creepy.
But that's not the point. The point is, the moment I heard the news of his death yesterday, I was already sick and tired of the wall-to-wall Michael Jackson love-fest. Good riddance, I thought, and moved on.
"Unless they play 'Thriller'", I'd say to Mrs. C. whenever the radio programs would start in on yet another Michael Jackson story, "I'm not interested."
The Good News
Finally, after almost a day of hearing all about Michael Jackson, and hearing just about every one of his songs except 'Thriller', I finally heard it today, while I was out getting some lunch. Yay Vincent Price!
The Bad News
Now I have the song stuck in my head.
Bonus: My favorite conservative makes all the points I'd like to make, only better.
The thing is, I'm a curmudgeon. A contrarian. If not a crank, I am at the very least cranky. So, while I admire Michael Jackson's artistic talent, I'm not really what you'd call a "fan" of the King of Pop. And I've always been more than a little creeped out by his body modification issues and the whole... thing. With the kids. It's just creepy.
But that's not the point. The point is, the moment I heard the news of his death yesterday, I was already sick and tired of the wall-to-wall Michael Jackson love-fest. Good riddance, I thought, and moved on.
"Unless they play 'Thriller'", I'd say to Mrs. C. whenever the radio programs would start in on yet another Michael Jackson story, "I'm not interested."
The Good News
Finally, after almost a day of hearing all about Michael Jackson, and hearing just about every one of his songs except 'Thriller', I finally heard it today, while I was out getting some lunch. Yay Vincent Price!
The Bad News
Now I have the song stuck in my head.
Bonus: My favorite conservative makes all the points I'd like to make, only better.
Monday, June 22, 2009
You Know What Zombie Movie Hasn't Been Made Yet?
Or, Fund it.
Okay, so question: What about good zombies?
The dead have risen from their unquiet graves, and walk the Earth. Their bite is infectious, and soon the world is overrun by shambolic, abominable, hungry dead. They infest our suburbs, our shopping malls, our military bases.
In short, your typical everyday Zombie Apocalypse. So far, so good. But we've seen this a million times before. What about good zombies?
What if, on that horrible day, every soldier buried in Arlington National Cemetary rose from their grave... and formed up to defend the nation's capital from the ravening hordes? Zombie George Washington. Zombie U.S. Grant. Zombie William Tecumseh Sherman, commandeering a vintage Sherman Tank from the nearest war museum.
Zombie Robert E. Lee: "In life I fought for the Confederacy, but in death I fight for America!"
FUND IT.
Okay, so question: What about good zombies?
The dead have risen from their unquiet graves, and walk the Earth. Their bite is infectious, and soon the world is overrun by shambolic, abominable, hungry dead. They infest our suburbs, our shopping malls, our military bases.
In short, your typical everyday Zombie Apocalypse. So far, so good. But we've seen this a million times before. What about good zombies?
What if, on that horrible day, every soldier buried in Arlington National Cemetary rose from their grave... and formed up to defend the nation's capital from the ravening hordes? Zombie George Washington. Zombie U.S. Grant. Zombie William Tecumseh Sherman, commandeering a vintage Sherman Tank from the nearest war museum.
Zombie Robert E. Lee: "In life I fought for the Confederacy, but in death I fight for America!"
FUND IT.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Kindness to Robots
Or, stuff I'm pretty sure nobody else thinks about.
So there's a drink-dispensing machine at work. Unlike the typical machine, this one has a special claw on a robotic apparatus, that moves across the face of the machine, picks a can or bottle out of the appropriate slot, and carries it down to the dispensing door.
Since this machine a) has bottled water, and b) its contents are 100% subsidized by HasturCom, I visit it two or three times a day.
And each time, I try to select the slot that will require the least work from the robot--minimize its travel distance, basically. I tell myself this is to save my valuable time. But really, I know that it's also because I like being nice to the robot.
So there's a drink-dispensing machine at work. Unlike the typical machine, this one has a special claw on a robotic apparatus, that moves across the face of the machine, picks a can or bottle out of the appropriate slot, and carries it down to the dispensing door.
Since this machine a) has bottled water, and b) its contents are 100% subsidized by HasturCom, I visit it two or three times a day.
And each time, I try to select the slot that will require the least work from the robot--minimize its travel distance, basically. I tell myself this is to save my valuable time. But really, I know that it's also because I like being nice to the robot.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Living In The Past
With Apologies to Jethro Tull
Really, 2009?
Really?
So I'm running this report. Apparently I applied for a job as a Systems Administrator, and they gave me a job as an Administrative Assistant. But that's not the point.
The point is, this report will only run straight into a browser, as HTML. There are no other options to save it in any other format. In 2009.
I'm pretty sure this is the future--many Gibsons into the future, at least. And I'm pretty sure that the modern robots of today are perfectly capable of generating files in multiple formats.
Today I am very disappointed in the architects of tomorrow.
Really, 2009?
Really?
So I'm running this report. Apparently I applied for a job as a Systems Administrator, and they gave me a job as an Administrative Assistant. But that's not the point.
The point is, this report will only run straight into a browser, as HTML. There are no other options to save it in any other format. In 2009.
I'm pretty sure this is the future--many Gibsons into the future, at least. And I'm pretty sure that the modern robots of today are perfectly capable of generating files in multiple formats.
Today I am very disappointed in the architects of tomorrow.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Minority Report
Or, Why can't a woman... be more like a man?
I have three friends whose judgement I trust. Let's call them Castor, Pollux, and Hermes.
Recently I found reason to update my resume. For a pleasant change of pace, I decided to shorten it considerably--down to one page, in fact. I thought this produced a snappier, more direct document that would favorably impress hiring managers. When I was done, I sent it to my three friends.
Castor and Pollux both liked the new, shorter resume. Hermes, as is often the case, responded with a rundown of all the problems he saw in it. I mean, he wasn't a complete jerk about it: He opened by complimenting me on the valiant attempt. But then he got right down to the business of tearing it apart.
Whatever. I liked the new resume, and the majority report agreed with me. So I published it to all the usual suspects. About a week later, I got a call from a recruiter. "You're a perfect match for this position," he said. "But... do you have a different resume? Maybe something longer and more detailed?" He then proceeded to repeat Hermes' list of concerns, point-for-point. Almost word-for-word.
Anyway, I figured if my resume is putting up red flags for recruiters, it damn well better be putting up red flags for me. I promptly re-wrote it in a longer, more detailed form, and sent it to the recruiter. He called me back about ten minutes later to congratulate me.
We'll see if it pays off.
Why can't a woman... be more like a man?
In other news, the other day I caught a bit of discussion on one of the local morning radio talk shows. The topic was "how do I tell my girlfriend she puts on too much makeup when we go out on dates?" The consensus of the panelists (3 men, 2 women), was that there was essentially no acceptable way to do this. No matter how you play it, you look like an insensitive, insulting jerk.
Which-all reminded me of Hermes' response to my resume. Bro to bro, he doesn't spend a lot of time trying to spare my feelings. Don't get me wrong: Hermes is a very thoughtful and considerate dude. But when it comes to solving problems, he likes to get right down to cases. And I don't hold it against him. It's not like he's running around saying "you're a stupid doody head who can't resume their way out of a wet paper bag", and such like that. Not at all. He's just all like, "there a problem? Yo, I'll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it."
The way I figure, men and women are complimentary, not contradictory. Men--at least the ones I know--like to skip the pleasantries and get right down to problem-solving. I figure, that's something women don't really appreciate as much as I'd like. There's a lot of emphasis in our society on men getting in touch with their feminine side, and learning how to communicate in woman-language so that women will hear them instead of hating them. To me, it really seems like that should be a two-way street.
Epilogue
Mrs. C. and I have evolved a pretty strong relationship over the years. One big reason is that she has relentlessly conditioned me to humor her moods and respond to her in the idiom of her choosing (i.e., more empathy, less problem-solving).
But the other big reason is that early on we agreed upon a simple rule of thumb: Whenever I say something, and it could be interpreted more than one way, and one of those ways makes me seem like a hateful, inconsiderate jerk? I meant it the other way.
As a result, the only thing we really fight about these days is how I always steal all the covers during the night. At least in my sleep I'm still my own man.
I have three friends whose judgement I trust. Let's call them Castor, Pollux, and Hermes.
Recently I found reason to update my resume. For a pleasant change of pace, I decided to shorten it considerably--down to one page, in fact. I thought this produced a snappier, more direct document that would favorably impress hiring managers. When I was done, I sent it to my three friends.
Castor and Pollux both liked the new, shorter resume. Hermes, as is often the case, responded with a rundown of all the problems he saw in it. I mean, he wasn't a complete jerk about it: He opened by complimenting me on the valiant attempt. But then he got right down to the business of tearing it apart.
Whatever. I liked the new resume, and the majority report agreed with me. So I published it to all the usual suspects. About a week later, I got a call from a recruiter. "You're a perfect match for this position," he said. "But... do you have a different resume? Maybe something longer and more detailed?" He then proceeded to repeat Hermes' list of concerns, point-for-point. Almost word-for-word.
Anyway, I figured if my resume is putting up red flags for recruiters, it damn well better be putting up red flags for me. I promptly re-wrote it in a longer, more detailed form, and sent it to the recruiter. He called me back about ten minutes later to congratulate me.
We'll see if it pays off.
Why can't a woman... be more like a man?
In other news, the other day I caught a bit of discussion on one of the local morning radio talk shows. The topic was "how do I tell my girlfriend she puts on too much makeup when we go out on dates?" The consensus of the panelists (3 men, 2 women), was that there was essentially no acceptable way to do this. No matter how you play it, you look like an insensitive, insulting jerk.
Which-all reminded me of Hermes' response to my resume. Bro to bro, he doesn't spend a lot of time trying to spare my feelings. Don't get me wrong: Hermes is a very thoughtful and considerate dude. But when it comes to solving problems, he likes to get right down to cases. And I don't hold it against him. It's not like he's running around saying "you're a stupid doody head who can't resume their way out of a wet paper bag", and such like that. Not at all. He's just all like, "there a problem? Yo, I'll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ revolves it."
The way I figure, men and women are complimentary, not contradictory. Men--at least the ones I know--like to skip the pleasantries and get right down to problem-solving. I figure, that's something women don't really appreciate as much as I'd like. There's a lot of emphasis in our society on men getting in touch with their feminine side, and learning how to communicate in woman-language so that women will hear them instead of hating them. To me, it really seems like that should be a two-way street.
Epilogue
Mrs. C. and I have evolved a pretty strong relationship over the years. One big reason is that she has relentlessly conditioned me to humor her moods and respond to her in the idiom of her choosing (i.e., more empathy, less problem-solving).
But the other big reason is that early on we agreed upon a simple rule of thumb: Whenever I say something, and it could be interpreted more than one way, and one of those ways makes me seem like a hateful, inconsiderate jerk? I meant it the other way.
As a result, the only thing we really fight about these days is how I always steal all the covers during the night. At least in my sleep I'm still my own man.
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