How to kill the planet with a word:

Monsanto

I’ll be surprised if we survive the onslaught of GM crops; and if we do, Monsanto will become the dirty word to end all dirty words.

Just read this report on the New Internet Explorer…

I loved the final statement:

“… So, in case you’re currently considering updating your Internet Explorer browser to version 8, just think twice if you’re addicted to Yahoo Mail and Gmail. Or just wait a while until the two companies include support to the newly released browser…”

What? Why do the frigging sites have to make modifications so the damn browser works? Why can’t the browser actually support the site?

Backwards thinking always Makes Me SO MAD…

I’m constantly amazed by the idiocy of the human race.

Shock at Polar Bear’s Carp Kill

The polar bear killed a fish.

Um…

What part of this isn’t registering.

I’ll dissect the image for you.

A great big honking BEAR killed a fish.

Not just ANY bear mind you, a POLAR BEAR.

So what’s the issue here? It’s an animal. That’s what they do. They kill things occasionally.

The only thing I can think is that because the bear was once a little cuddly toy-like animal, hand-reared, people think, get this, that he’s going to just be a great big cuddly toy-like animal.

HELLO!

It’s a BEAR you MORONS!

If you think that’s bad, you should see what my cat does to mice that it catches.

Oh yeah, two other things which might be getting on my goat are lack of sleep and some arsehole reversing every hour last night.

The reversing began at around 10.30. And it kept going… then stopped… and started again… and stopped… and started again…

BeeeBeeeBeeeBeeeBeeeBeeeBeee…Beee…BeeeBeeeBeee…Beee…

Silence…

Silence…

Nodding-off…

Beee…BeeeBEEEBEEEBEEEbeeeBeeeBeee…Beee…Beee…

Silence…

…etcetera

Sleep was affected by this. But it was also affected by my mindset and thrashing around internally over a bunch of stuff which won’t be discussed in this blog.

My sleep was also affected by next door neighbours having an argument this morning. Must have been about 6am when I heard a woman yelling on the street, an argument, a slam of a door, then as I began to drift off again, a heart-rending guttral screeching sound.

Very off-putting.

And since I was wide-frigging-awake, there wasn’t much else I could do but lie there wondering what to do next.

This question was answered by R who texted me asking if I’d like to ride to work with her.

Award for the biggest dipshit has to go to a mutual friends boyfriend who — after about 7 or 8 years with the friend K, an affair and a fucking obsession (read it twice, you’ll get it), has announced that he now wants to end the relationship in favour of taking lots of drugs and shagging anything with two legs and the right bodily orifices.

How old is he, was my first reaction.

R agreed.

He should have gotten that out of his system in his twenties for fucks sake.

Honestly, there’s no accounting for brain power, especially when we’re talking about the effects of hormones.

What a knucklehead.

Bleh.

It’s been an annoying and underwhelming week. I don’t know if I can lay it all at the feet of the new moon which is chucking all sorts of amusing energies around the place, a case of partial malnutrition due to a lack of money (and — obviously — food), a terrible spot to sit at work (right beside a major highway), the weird weather (last week, freaking freezing, this week, mid twenties), the constant chatter of geeks around me getting on my goat, Sysadmin buggering around with my computer or Microsoft products.

I’ll take the twin powdery lines of least resistance.

Last week we had the “new product launch” thing here at work, and my desktop image was hijacked by Sysadmin. Their reasoning was that Marketing should have checked it with everyone, but all I found was that it was irritating to have something changed on me without telling me, and — goddamn it — I don’t like being advertised at.

So I trolled the interweb for a hack, and managed to get into my own registry (as it had been disabled by the aforementioned twonks in Sysadmin) and dug through layer-upon-layer of MS contortionistic bollocks until I found the particular key; which I changed.

I had to keep changing it daily because those wacky Sysadmin guys had worked out that the easiest way to piss me off was to push updates through to the computer when no-one was looking.

Fortunately, they weren’t able to stick advertising on my desktop, as — thanks to the help of a co-worker — I’d disabled sysadmin access to the folder on the local computer which acted as suppository for said marketing crap.

But that, unfortunately, isn’t what’s annoying me.

Today I had to fight with a WindoZe 2003 Server. That was fun.

It’s hosting the TWiki instance which I’m working with, madly converting existing and creating new user documents for the happy little proles in the call-centers. I don’t know if they’re happy, I’m making that part up. They could be mad as a dozen jihadists on a party line; they could be as nutty as a conkertree, what do I know?

Anyway, I was finding the computer was running morbidly slow.. the sort of slow that indicates something is about to go “ping” within the black svelte Dell — Hell — plastic box. So I wandered over to it…

…I haven’t said that I dont’ work ON the server physically. I link to it through a web connection and through a Run window if necessary to do Jiggery-Pokery…

… and found there was no keyboard or mouse.

Fucking thieves.

So I tromped downstairs, found the guy who has a box full of keyboards and mice and asked if I could get one of each, please.

These items of dross thus obtained, I returned and plugged them into the server machine, to be greeted with two messages asking if it was okay to restart the computer because new software had been installed.

I restarted.

Then, while the Dual processors churned away happily, with all the expertise of a cheesemaker in a particularly well lit barn, and the dulcet tones of another worker’s music trilled away happily in his absence (what’s wrong with bloody headphones? What IS it with people?!), I waited for the machine to restart.

So I got in, and the frigging change password message came on.

Now, there’s a lot of things which are irritating and boring, and one of them is this sodding message.

Your password will expire in 14 days. Do you want to change it now

Fourteen fucking days? Half a bleeding month? What the F*ck is that all about.

Oh, again, it’s the wacky fun-loving guys in Sysadmin having fun with everyone.

No, I said, and clicked the appropriate button; then waited for another few minutes while the rest of the system updates were finished off.

If I’d had any money, I’d have wandered off and had a crafty Chai. Not the stuff downstairs, which is like drinking hot water mixed with a quarter cup of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon; what’s THAT all about?! No, I’d have walked a couple of blocks to where i can get a decent cup of — albeit pre-brewed in a bottle – chai.

Perhaps that’s one of the things bugging me. No, not the bloody chai. The money. Probably. Comes from being constantly whacked over the head with “you need money” from my father for twenty fucking years… my brother believed him and got money obsessed, I took the other route which occasionally leaves me in the shit, but on the whole removes the whole fear-factor of financial ruin. I’ve been penniless in France and Australia; it’s hard but I’ve worked through things like that, as I’m working through them now.

So the computer started up again, and I tried out the wiki… except it took Freaking Ages To Load. Even got a warning message saying “a script is taking longer to load than expected, do you want to abort”.

No, I don’t. I want to get to the bottom of why this Server with not one but TWO processors is grinding to a halt like it’s been dipped in a bath of Golden Syrup.

There’s a funny memory – I used to eat Golden Syrup on bread as a kid.

No bloody wonder I can’t handle sugar now.

I started uninstalling things; Google Desktop was the first. That was an utter bag of powdered offal if ever I saw one. When I was running it on twin displays it crapped-out like it was the victim of a dozen cases of salmonella.

I progressed to windows components that weren’t useful; easy done and happy to remove them. I had to restrain myself with my desire to frag the whole OS; unfortunately I don’t know enough about Linux to install it, and would have had to spend a couple of days reinstalling TWiki.

And I restarted.

No, I Don’t Want To Fucking Change My Password.

Churn…churn…churn…

Right, up it comes again.

Silly me, let’s try it in Internet Exploder.

A message came up talking about PHishing and whether I’d like to enable or disable the filter, or be asked again next time until I caved-in and did what the heathen gods at Redmond want me to do. Never!

Only I couldn’t do anything. That’s because the damn thing had locked-up. IE, already low in the opinion scales, in the same way that chewing my own elbows off is, had disappointed again.

I killed the process and tried again.

And killed the process after chucking the mouse at the screen, while uttering “fucking Microsoft Crap”.

I tried again in Firefox, and got the same error (the one about the script).

I tried the defrag…but it conked-out at 3% and didn’t move again — even though there’s hardly anything on the bloody computer.

I think it’s going to kark it. I should get it changed-over.

*sigh*

What else is irritating me? Could be a conversation I had with a friend yesterday… could be emails from over the weekend…

Could be I need something to eat. I’m down to Very Fucking Little at home, but thankfully am being paid tomorrow. This means there will be much rejoicing and a big breakfast out to reward myself for my hard yards in the malnutrition department.

I might even do a Bikram class; I’ve been too shagged this week to do one… especially after the hardcore coding I did over the weekend.

But you’re a writer I hear you say… go on, you can do it.

Yes, comes the answer… but I’m branching out for the sake of my sanity into other areas: web design and pinching other people’s CSS and Javascript to name but three.

And seeing as the first time I actually used JavaScript was in the wiki at work about a week and a half ago, the things I’ve achieved in the site I’m putting together are nothing short of Bleeding Miraculous.

However, the site isn’t quite right yet, and lacking the years of experience in web design that most people who happily use that moniker share, I have catching up to do.

Doing my best is sometimes all I can do… but again, I am tripped up by the vampiric hordes of Redmond with their twin abominations, Internet Explorer 6 and Internet Explorer 7.

Render a website one of you.

Why won’t you do it properly.

You are doing it properly?

How come your distant cousin Firefox, and the grrl down the street Safari can do this.

Oh, it’s because you’re the mutant offspring of your ex CEO and new CEO.

And you try, and I understand that you do… the issue I have is that your creators can actually fix you both up, and refuse to do so, that’s what I find so awful.

Really.

Can someone explain to me why IE6 and IE7 can’t be patched to render pages in Exactly the same way as every other damn browser on the market?

Is it some kind of perverted weird-arse Holier-than-thou, we’re-bigger-than-anyone, 90% market-share arrogance of their cross-eyed knucklehead management?

Someone? Anyone?

Brilliant!

Cyber-vigilantes foil gadget thief

Pure Gold

Apple to release Vista fix 

War, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war, war war,war,war,war,war,war…

Bored yet?

I sure as hell am.

Every damn thing is War.

War on Drugs.

War on Terrorism

War on Science

War on Obesity

War on poverty

I know The Chaser’s War On Everything is a piss-take of all of this, but it doesn’t actually make it any less boring and a waste. I’m so sick of hearing about wars of any kind. Sick of the mindset behind the concept of war, sick of the over-use of a word which equates to death, destruction, abuse and mindless agression, sick of hearing it used for everything from terrorism to overweight people. Sick To Bloody Death.

There are thousands of words in the English Language; are we so short-sighted, so lacking in intelligence, so devolved that we can only get attention by declaring WAR on it?

<rant>

See, this always happens.

Oh, this is a Technical Writing blog entry by the way. Sorry, forgot to mention that; was preoccupied swearing protracted and extensive revenge against my document reviewers.

Documentation seems to be something that the IT industry has marked — unconsciously and astonishingly — as something that anyone can do right at the end with no preparation whatsoever.

I’ve been around for long enough to have this simple irritating fact proved time and time again.

And reviews; don’t get me started.

Well, that’s what this entry is about, so I shall get started.

I give my reviewers a fair suck of the sav, a reasonable amount of time to do their work; I leave them alone when they’re busy, I step away when they’re in meetings or kicking out code like a posse of kangaroos kick lost tourists who think the route from Perth to Melbourne will only take a couple of hours. Hello!! It’s over a thousand kilometers Morons! This is not Europe!

Where was I?

Reviews.

So earlier this week I said explicitly in a meeting that I needed review comments through by Thursday afternoon, so I could spend Friday putting them in ready for the release on Monday.

Three people in the meeting of 10 actually made an effort and  put the review comments in. I had to harass another one who I met in a meeting and sorted that out.

So it comes to Thursday arvo (that’s Afternoon in Australian for all you foreigners), and there’s nothing new. Good, I thought.

Then I decided — in my idiocy — to go around and ask the people in question if they’d mind Getting Off Their Arses And Review The Documentation Like They Said They Would And Were Reminded To In Not One But THREE Email Messages.

Well, I didn’t put it like that, the same as I didn’t take my preferred method of positive reinforcement and grab them by the hair and smack their foreheads against the desk repeatedly to make the point.

As I sit here, there’s fifteen additional comments been added to the page. And it’s Friday afternoon. And I am Not Fucking happy.

Yes, I understand that people get busy. Yes, I understand that they’ve got their own jobs to do. Yes, I understand that there’s a fine line between serious assualt and gentle reminders… but seriously, it’s bloody annoying to have all this CRAP dropped on you at the last Fucking minute.

</end rant>

Okay, bored now.

I found a link for a Fake Steve Jobs round-up of the Macworld conference, and thought it might be worth a look. Cool, I thought; I quite like the blog — even though some of the readers are obviously sexist pigs (take a look at some of the Photocrank pictures if you doubt my appraisal) — and thought this might be an amusing diversion to what I was doing: translating incomprehensible tech-speak into something that people other than the author could read without a fairly high inhalation of peyote and camel-dung.

First I got a crappy and incomprehensible IBM advert, but hey, you expect that sorta thing on some online news reports; I lived with it.

Then there was a lady news reporter — no, not FSJ — saying how there’d be a report on Macworld. Cool, I thought.

Then there was a second ad.

And that was the point I killed the page. Arse-factor Zero; you lost me within the first 30 seconds. And that’s what happens these days guys. Don’t inundate people with crapervising, we’re Not Interested Anymore! And it wasn’t like I could just click the progress indicator because each of these babies was a self-contained presentation.

Morons.

For the love of…

What’s all this sudden panic and worry about oil and the cost thereof? For crying-out-loud, Peak oil has been and gone. Why the hell aren’t we — in this Great Southern Land of high temperatures and lots of sun– putting stacks of money into solar and alternative fuel research.

All this will do is expend millions on what’s a band-aid solution at best, and a total waste of money at worst. Why not stick some serious money into something we can supply in abundance: sunshine? If they spent all the money they’re going to spend on searching for gas and petroleum into a solar panel for every rooftop in the country, we won’t need anywhere near as much fuel as we’re consuming now and into the future.

Amazing.

This is our former government at work; like kids who have had their toys taken away, they’re kicking-up a stink.

I didn’t think Kevin Rudd’s statement “…infantile bickering, point-scoring and mindlessly partisan politics…” – uttered during the apology to the stolen generation – was a call-to-arms; it sounded more like an honest appraisal of the behaviour of politicians on both sides of the fence during the last 10 years of parliamentary rule.

The opposition seem intent on dragging the parliament into disarray; all they’re doing is showing what childish morons they actually are.

Well, the Libs are in full-swing today.

What was it Kevin said yesterday in his speech? Oh yes:

“…infantile bickering, point-scoring and mindlessly partisan politics…”

And as for Tony GodBotherer Abbot’s comment:

“…Opposition Indigenous affairs spokesman Tony Abbott defended Dr Nelson’s speech and called some of those who turned their backs “radicalised activists”.

“I suppose for people who have just come straight up from the Aboriginal Tent Embassy who are radicalised activists, I suppose a certain amount of hostility is to be expected,” he said…”

And which people would these be, Tony? Oh, sorry, you said: “…I suppose for people who have just come straight up from the Aboriginal Tent Embassy who are radicalised activists, I suppose a certain amount of hostility is to be expected…”

There goes your credibility, Right Down The Toilet, you racist pig.

I see in my mind’s eye, a cartoon of three people walking down a path called “Reconciliation”. The larger, adult is Kevin Rudd, the smaller two, both drawn as children having temper tantrums and resisting with every fibre of their being, are Tony Abbott and Brendan Nelson. Oh, there in the distance is an even smaller figure, dressed only in a soiled nappy; Wilson Tuckey is his name, and he’s running for dear life back to the womb of his conservative leader, John Howard.

I might not be able to draw, but I can certainly paint a picture.

Now I can breathe.

I arranged for an advance on my pay so I could pay the rent at the old place, seeing as my now ex-friends have refused to pay it.

So I’ve got some breathing space again.

Live and learn, really. Live and learn.

I’m glad to have them out of my life to be honest; these were the two most negative impossibly difficult to deal with people I’ve ever come across in a very long time. They complained constantly and they were *always* right, regardless of the subject.

On this latter point, I give you two examples (paraphrased from memory). Example one is concerning my perfectly functional wireless network:

Them: We can’t get the computer onto the wireless network. It’s your network.

Me: I can connect fine to the network. Here, look at my computer. See? It connects fine.

Them: It must be the network. Our Vista PC says to restart the modem.

Me: There’s nothing wrong with the modem. I’ve just proved it. See? My computer connects fine. It’s Vista being difficult.

Him (bolshy tone): If it was Vista there’d be more complaints about it. And what’s this I hear about you selling all your things?

See, I’m expected to justify my functional network as compared to a crappy Vista PC, AND my decision to sell all my possessions. Let’s move on, however to partway through another conversation that turned rapidly sour:

Me: You know, the captain of SeaShepherd* has commented that a vegetarian driving a Hum-Vee creates less greenhouse gas than a meat eater on a bicycle.

Them: We disagree. He’s wrong about that.

Me: hang on, this is a dedicated, long-term fighter for the environment.

Them: We disagree. He’s wrong.

Me: How do you know.

Them: We’ve done our research

And that’s their position. Immovable, unchanging, insurmountable, non-negotiable. Just like the discussion about the rent. Even if I were guilty about everything and anything, I still didn’t leave them in the lurch on rent-day, and refuse to pay said rent.

As I say, better off without these sorts of people in my life. I really am. I look forward to the day when I get the keys to the old place back and can finally say a hearty sayanora sweetie to these idiots.

———–

*Captain Paul Watson, co-creator of Greenpeace, creator of SeaShepherd, environmental activist extraordinaire.

Interesting vid (first seen on Fake Steve Jobs)

One of the additional things I’d point out is the savage abuse of the English Language that’s suddenly appeared over the last year.

Learnings is not a word, no matter which fucking context you put it in. Idiots! This is equivalent to phonetic spelling for acronyms such as MC.

Slightly ironic number for the post however

A message I just sent around work:

Greetings fellow level-2′ers,

I am writing today to decry the sad and sorry state of the kitchen with regard to the following ongoing issues:

• dirty dishes
• dirty dishes being left to pile up in both sinks (especially the one with the hot and cold running water)
• dirty cutlery
• dirty benches

You’ll note — perhaps with interest — that the operative word here is “dirty“.

Now, as far as I’m aware, the only people who get to leave dishes unwashed in kitchens are:

1. Royalty
2. Children
3. Those lacking appropriate motor-skills to manipulate dishes and washcloths.

Furthermore, there are several prominently positioned “kitchen etiquette” posters which actually ask nicely that people clean the hell up after themselves.

Howsabout it people? None of you are royalty (otherwise you wouldn’t be working), there aren’t any children on this level at this point, and you’ve all got the motor skills to operate computers and telephones, so you should all be able to clean up your dirty dishes.

Frankly, after 10 years working in IT and related environments with levels of cleanliness of varying degrees, I feel it’s a bit much to expect someone else to clean up after yourself. What’s next, the toilet?

Yours in extreme boredom,

your friendly neighbourhood writer.

Wonder if it’ll work?

Spam at work is boring and clogs your in-box. Especially in this workplace.

Course, most of the spam here is internal, sent by moronic idiots people clicking “Reply All” rather than just “Reply”.

I’ve sent a few mail responses (to all just to make the point) since I started here, highlighting – if sarcastically – this habit. For example, in response to an enthusiastic announcement to all-and-sundry that a particular application had been completed, I responded-to-all thus:

Waytogo! I’m so impressed I’ll let everyone know!

Yesterday, one of the big bosses wrote a message asking that people don’t click what I am now calling The SPAM button.

However, it has been ignored by all.

Today, I got bored with clicking delete repeatedly (I’m getting RSI of the forefinger as a result of this), and as tempting as it is to write a message to all dripping sarcasm and pointing-out my current forefinger injury, it seemed far easier (and very Lisa 4.0) to create a catch-all mail rule, which I am calling Team [MYCOMPANY] SPAM.

And it works… oh it works… and in the last 30 seconds it’s grabbed 5 incoming messages.

Finally, something that MS Outlook can actually do without crapping-out.

Watch from 00:34 – 01:00 for what I’m feeling at the moment with this sodding application that I’m attempting to document.

They do things different in Europe.

Read the original, if boring “Aussie Princess” wank-fest article here.

Thanks to RobotAlice for this one.

I used to work for a company I nicknamed “Senseless”.

They have the following tagged onto the bottom of every single email they send out:

Sensless. Australia’s leading information resource.

Making complex lives simpler by helping you find, buy and sell.

www.Sensless.com.au – www.yellow.com.au – www.whitepages.com.au – www.citysearch.com.au
- www.about.Sensless.com.au
www.whereis.com.au – www.gostay.com.au – www.justlisted.com.au – www.tradingpost.com.au
- www.linkme.com.au
www.carshowroom.com.au – www.telstra.com.au – www.smallbusiness.Sensless.com.au
- www.universalpublishers.com.au

Sensless cares for the environment – think before you print.

This email and any attachments are intended only for the use of the
recipient and may be confidential and/or legally privileged.
Sensless Pty Ltd disclaims liability for any errors, omissions,
viruses, loss and/or damage arising from using, opening or
transmitting this email.
If you are not the intended recipient you must not use, interfere
with, disclose, copy or retain this email and you should notify the
sender immediately by return email or by contacting Sensless Pty Ltd
by telephone on [+61 3 8888 8888]

Liike *anyone* reads this crap these days? It’s so Web 0.1!

This statement though makes me larf:

Senseless cares about the environment

No they don’t. Otherwise they wouldn’t be printing massive phone books that no-one actually uses and sticking all the crap on the end of email that ends up making a 1 page email conversation 3 and a half if it was ever printed.

Morons.