Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

July 3, 2014

Luddites, or something else.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 11:51 am

Over at the Slog, John is yet again moaning about what a lot of bastards Microsoft are, it’s not that MS shit won’t work, or can’t be made to work, it is that it doesn’t work in EXACTLY the same user interface way as he *wants* it to work.

One of his commenter’s was whining about that fact that somewhere around the 98/Me/Xp days, those evil bastards at microshaft swapped around the order in which My Documents and My Pictures appeared on the menu’s, confusing the living shit out of everyone, who had to relearn how to use an OS as a result.

John goes on to tell us that Windows 8 & 8.1 are also a steaming pile of shit, blissfully unaware of the fact that Windows Server 2012 is basically windows 8 with bits added… of course what he really means is the new GUI confuses him, shit ain’t where it used to be.

Was talking to someone else about bridge cameras, they’d just bought a Sony, I went all meh, Sony are on my shit-list and have been for many years now, since before the root-kit fiasco, so what would you have bought, they ask, in that price bracket? Canon SX50HS, no contest. No question. No hesitation.

Oh no, they looked at that and didn’t buy it because it got a 1 star review from another old experienced photography hand who said the EV (electronic viewfinder) was total shit, they refused to use the rear LCD screen, cos they have always used the viewfinder to compose…  plus the Canon only has 12 mega-pixels, and the Sony has 20… so it’s better.

Now I grew up around photography, Dad had Rollei’s and 8mm clockwork cine cameras, back in the day, I’ve known several true pro photographers, and by true pro I mean mainstream media, their pics made the front page and the reuters wire, know one now, who estimates it would cost him in excess of quarter of a million dollars US to replace all his kit, and this is shit he uses all the time, not a collection on a shelf, he carries a Canon SX50HS *as well* as everything else, he says everyone else can make do with *just* an SX50, it will do everything they could ask, and they aren’t good enough to use better.

I agree with him, but lots of people on Amazon for instance do not, they think it is a shit camera.

I’ve sat in this guy’s garden and he has taken 6 pictures with the SX50 and leaned over and handed it to me and I have taken 6, then we go inside, his pictures were fucking jaw droppingly good and eye popping and wow, mine were sooooo much better than they would have been with a smart-phone camera…lol… but you could printed all 12 out and stopped some random fuck on the street and said sort these into two groups, the 6 you like the best and the 6 you like the least, and you know mine would have been in the 6 they liked the least.

Having said that, that demo was enough to get me to go on Amazon and order one there and then, and a few extras, remote control, spare battery, carry case, etc.

He came back out with about 8k worth of DSLR and lens (EOS 1DX), and took the same six shots, we went inside, as he said, unless you were blowing them up to poster size, not a lot in it, if we repeated the test at midnight, OK, there you would have seen a *clear* difference, but UK£8,000 worth? Only if you did that shit for a living…. and could bill it back… he can, people will and do pay him £2,500 a pop for a single photo.

Same as JW thinks Microsoft is all shit, (then he goes and buys a shitty little HP laptop with Win 8 and starts complaining about MS…) and it is always the same refrain.

I doesn’t do what I want it to do, the way I want it to do it, by pressing the buttons I want to press.

Shades of my pro photographer mate, nobody I know of any age or experience who works in IT actually thinks MS is complete shit, sure, they think there are a lot of people running 2012 server on boxes that really do not require it, but that’s matey and the SX50 HS vs EOS 1DX comparison again.

Or indeed the 2014 Mk7 1.6 blue-motion diesel golf vs Audi R8 comparison…. for legal road use where you intend to actually keep your licence… the £125k Audi is no better or faster A to B than the £22k VW, for 99.999% of users.

Being better and faster on the Autobahn doesn’t apply unless you actually drive the fucking autobahn’s regularly…. and then you need the actual driving skill and ability as well…

I don’t think any of these people are actually Luddites, per se..

As said in the previous post, technically a Luddite is someone who throws clogs in the new machines to break them, as the new machines threaten their old way of life.

The JW’s of this world are a different kettle of fish, it isn’t a case of deliberately breaking something, it is the case of being unable to use it properly, and being unwilling to learn how.

Now, while I do not expect everyone to be renaissance man…….. let’s look at my mum, she has never used a PC, or a tablet, or a smartphone, or the internet, nor does she have any interest in any of these things, none at all, she is quite happy with her digital terrestrial satellite TV, DVD/CD/MP3 player, music centre for audio CD’s and Radio and LP’s, books, and so on, and the landline push button telephone.

It’s not that she is *incapable* of learning how to use a PC, she just has no interest.

Contrast this with the JW’s of this world, who insist on using one, in order to publish his blog, but, being brutally honest, flatly refuse to learn how to use one properly, and insists instead that it is the evil and shit Microsoft who cannot write an operating system and application software exactly the way JW likes.

I deleted his blog link some time ago, because it became increasingly evident that far from merely falling short of some idealised lofty goal of being a renaissance man, JW is in fact nothing more than a fucking idiot.

In this case, his whole attitude towards MS etc *is* indicative of his general intellect and ability to perceive the world as it really is.

Even fucking idiots can be right about some things some of the time, and that’s how I ended up adding a link to him in the first place, more fool me…

More fool me because of the innate human tendency to cut someone some slack on items D through Q if you know that items A, B & C they were pretty much spot on with, so you give items D through Q head time that you would not have done otherwise.

It’s shades of Ben Bernanke refusing to accept that if QE as applied by him doesn’t fucking work, then the fault does not lie with him, or how he is using tool X, but instead the fault lies with the tool itself, or worse still, the material the tool is being used to modify.

A bad workman always blames his tools.

As a proverb this goes back at least as far as 1290 AD

I have come to the conclusion that no matter what specific field it is that the “workman” in question is blaming his “tools” for, no matter how distant that field appears to be from the subject in question, the fact that he is doing so is such a profound statement about the character of the “workman” themselves, that suddenly it becomes very relevant, not just to this field too, but to any and every field that “workman” may touch.

As in, it is a fucking serious and base and ripples-like-veins-through-marble fucking character flaw.

As in, it’s like a wimminz with dyed bright RED hair, that tells you enough, there are NO areas of her character that are worth a damn, or safe enough for you to be in any proximity of any kind to.

July 2, 2014

10 items or less

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , — wimminz @ 10:22 am

DMJ has a piece up, partly about self service checkouts.

Given a choice, I’ll use them every time, despite the fact they are as flaky as fuck and keep telling me to place the item in the bag even though I haven’t scanned it yet, and the assistant gets called so I can continue.

My reasons are many and varied, there aren’t any “10 items or less” or “baskets only” aisles any more, and I want to pay and get outta there, not queue behind some hambeast.

Queueing isn’t an option, because most of the till isles are unmanned, saves the company money, and they will stay that way just short of the point where people do the shop, see the queue, and abandon the entire trolley and go somewhere else.

The “manned” tills, there really isn’t a fucking difference any more, some clown who swipes each item over a laser scan head instead of me having to do it for myself, that really is the *only* significant difference.

This issue behind this, and everything else, is we have come to this point, thanks to technology, where every single possible aspect of the job that might require any kind of skill or experience or knowledge or intellect has been automated away.

This is the point that I believe DMJ and others and missing, staff are now a fungible commodity, you hire a worker, since no skills or intellect or training is requires, one worker will do as well as any other, just start them at 8 am, they are in the tills by 9 am and unsupervised by 10 am, apart from the ever present 24/7 hands on supervision and control of the machines and the system itself of course.

During the original industrial revolution, this was what the people rebelled against, it wasn’t so much the fact that one machine could put 50 weavers out of business, it was the fact that that one machine required no skill to operate, a 12 year old boy was good enough, and right there you have the same thing, staff as the fungible commodity…

12 year old boys and checkout staff are a lot CHEAPER to hire and easier to replace at a moment’s notice than the old way of doing things.

Again, if you thought the industrial revolution = the end of craftsmanship, you are a bloody fool, and you have clearly never seen a skilled miller / turner / welder / engineer at work.

There is a fundamental principle here, and it is vital, other wise you *utterly* miss the point and get everything else wrong.

The various new technologies, in and of themselves, does not turn the workforce into unskilled fungible worker drones.

NO matter what the technology, be it belt driven workshops, jacquard looms, electricity, computers, automated checkouts, it is always and without exception HOW THESE TECHNOLOGIES WERE APPLIED BY MANAGEMENT that turned the workforce into unskilled fungible worker drones.

This is the primary function of workforce management, if 99.9% of your workforce is as utilitarian and fungible as a basic 2×4 lego block, you just solved 99.9% of your potential problems, from the management perspective, and workers are *always* a problem from the management perspective, never an asset.

DMJ currently has a piece up about the Prisoner’s Dilemma, hello, what did you think the workers throwing their clogs into the machinery was, except the 99th iteration he talks about in that piece.

What did he think the old Guilds were? I’m not saying they were a perfect solution, or even a desirable one, but they did ring-fence being say a smith, from employment, a boss can sack you, you are no longer a smith, and hire someone else in your place, fungible… in the guild you were a smith for life, or until the guild itself kicked you out…. the boss could sack you, but he couldn’t employ just anyone to fill your role, it had to be another smith.

In a sense, when marriage was *only* the business of the church, and none of the business of the state, then that too was in many ways a guild, and if stable marriages and stable families was your goal, it too worked better than the present system, albeit at a price.

Everything, you see, has a price, always has, always will.

Something else everyone has forgotten the true meaning of, and it is also fundamental to the whole prisoner’s dilemma thing, is trust.

Trust does not mean what you think it means.

I trust that falling 100 feet down a vertical cliff onto boulders is going to kill me, every, single, fucking, time.

trust != fair

Ergo “trusted working practices” do not equal “fair working practices“, and so on, but nowadays we have the two mixed up irrevocably, another trick of management.

Since time immemorial, this has been an issue for “management”, by whatever name management went by at the time, getting the maximum output from a given worker, for the minimum outlay in return.

In prisoner’s dilemma speak, management will always fuck you over as much as they can.

To be sure, the Guild would fuck you over too, but the Guild could not reduce its members to a fungible commodity, without at the same time utterly destroying itself.

If management, or the baron, or king, or the industrialist, wanted ten silversmiths, he had to negotiate with the guild, the guild for their part could simply refuse to supply them, either the price wasn’t good enough or whatever other reasons there were, the guild could not be coerced, only destroyed.

You want an heir, you’ll need a wife, which means you’ll need a marriage, which means you’ll need the church (which in those days meant the church of Rome) which worked OK until ‘enery de 8th, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Not however the history as taught in schools, that is itself anti-guild and pro-management worker drone.

Nor am I sitting here and claiming that a return to 14th century methods will solve any, much less, all, our modern ills.

I do however state that what we have now is not in any way different, just because we are now dealing with a computerised automated checkout, and not a weaving loom powered via overhead shafts and belts from a waterwheel, sure, the technology is different, but the technology isn’t the issue, the management attitude is the issue, and that is the same.

The public clock tower and chiming bells was created for no purpose other than to ensure the worker drones all got two work together at the beginning of a shift, in order to maximise production…. and the later tradition of being given a watch upon retirement was nothing more than a symbolic gesture that once again, your time was your own.

The guilds were not all good, every system has it’s fucking problems, but it was the guilds who gave rise to universities, and guilds who have rise to the local community management via the guild hall…. but when guilds were basically abolished by management by the 1600’s, the thing the worker offered the guild, effectively indentured labour, was carried on, almost until the present day, but now that labour was indentured directly to management, and not to the guild.

We’re back to “trust” and “fair” being two separate concepts.

The guilds were of course chastised for being a burden on the economy, stifling innovation, and rent seeking behaviour, not that any of these things were necessarily untrue, not that the capitalist system that replaced it did not suffer from the exact same drawbacks.

Twain said history don’t repeat itself, but it sure does rhyme.

Twain was right, because throughout history we have the human animal, who has essentially remained unchanged, Machiavelli would fit right in at the UN.

The automated checkout is like the industrial spinning loom, it is basically just a tool.

The important question you should always ask is this, why was this tool made just so, instead of being made just so… and then you start to see that far from having nothing in common, the automated checkout and the industrial loom are actully identical in one way, they are designed to be “attended to” by fungible unskilled worker drones.

90% of my day job is providing teh intertubez for just about every high street business you can shake a stick at, and they all have basically the same management approach to worker drones.

Do you have any idea what the modern version of clogs in the machines is?

Do you have any notion of the purely observational and personal opinion that I’m starting to see sabotage now, and I do NOT mean disgruntled employee types format c:

Do you have any idea what the modern version of clogs in the machines is?

Really… think about it

Do you have any idea what the modern version of clogs in the machines is?

How do you, undetectably (or rather, unattributable to you personally) take down these modern weaving machines?

  • 8 x AA batteries and the guts of a plasma ball and a marigold glove
  • a quick shot of abs melting strong contact cleaner
  • a quick shot of salted or sugary water spray
  • cycling the power switch when nobody is looking
  • googling destructive console commands, for when a fellow drones terminal is left open and unattended
  • intense UV LED’s (wiping/corrupting EEPROM)

The list goes on and on, and I am starting to see all of them, or in some cases symptoms, because proof is impossible, unless they are caught in the act.

Like clogs in the machinery, in the early days, it was literally insect bugs, bzzzt, zap, and so even if you can identify the agent, you cannot identify the individual who introduced the agent.

95% of the time if an individual on site hangs around when you are doing a break fix, offers you a coffee, chats about this and that, that is the individual.

I just smile, if nobody threw cogs in the machines, there would be less work for me.

And people think I just do my putty logs and documentation and photos up the wazzoo to cover my ass from management, I just love being vastly under-estimated.

 

June 29, 2014

Less than a pint of beer.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:32 pm

That is a truthful and accurate description of why what my dad left me when he died.  (oops, that was quite the typo.. lol..)

Nor can I claim that while he was alive, he gave me the deposit for various houses, shares in the company, a start on the corporate ladder, or anything else.

I was just about to write that “after the age of sixteen, anything that was ‘given’ to me was given in exchange for work, eg training on the job, eg apprenticeship at a trade, eg I bloody earned it“… and then I thought about it, and to be honest it wasn’t that different *before* I was 16.

I don’t mean he was a slave driver or had me climbing inside chimneys at 7, I do mean I had to meet certain expectations, behaviour, chores, so on and so forth.

I can remember being stood outside the door, shivering in vest and underpants in winter, age 6/7, and being asked a simple enough question, did I want to come in to his house, in the warm, given that his house = his rules, eg do as you are told boy… nobody was forcing me to live there, or forcing him to have me live there….

I know there are many out there that will say this is child abuse yadda yadda, hey, I was fucking *there* buddy, it wasn’t abuse, it was teaching a small boy a lesson.

To be sure, it is a lesson that has contributed to a lot of my problems over the years, but then again, it has saved me from an unknowable but undoubtedly huge quantity of other problems, the lesson that whoever paid the rent etc called the shots, if you don’t like it, contribute to the rent or take a hike.

Your input or say in how that “mini state/country” was run was directly proportional to how much of the total tab you picked up each and every month.

Further to that, unless you actually had the ability to pick up 100% of the tab, your role was adviser, sort of non preferential voting stock, you didn’t get to call any shots, ever, or say shit if your vote was simply ignored.

“You paying my rent bitch?” was what I said to the skank upstairs (who now smiles at me) when she came down one Sunday to complain about my music, which is playing as I type this. Not paying rent, no vote in how I live in my own fucking home.

I just stood in my bathroom and ran my hair trimmer over my head, 3mm buzz cut over everything, just let that shit fall on the floor,washing machine is loaded, got some washing up to do and work surfaces to wash and wipe down then run the vacuum around, (which will pick up the hair) and bung the floor mats in the machine for the second load.

Then dive in the shower, fresh clothes, put the towels and shit in the machine, job’s a good un.

Sure, may not be to everyone’s taste, but, I pay 100% of the rent and bills, why should I please anyone else?

If I’m co-habiting with you, sure, I’ll make allowances, a bit of give and take, but ultimately my fall back is living alone, calling my own shots, so that give and take better be a REAL two way street.

I’ve had a few dalliances with wimminz who ostensibly ran their own places, wanted me to give up mine and move in, but hey, I’m giving up my independence, in exchange for what?

I ain’t giving up sole owner and captain of this crappy old 100 foot tramp steamer and throwing all my resources in with you just to be the latest white shirt taking orders on the bridge of your fucking Feadship.. no way Jose..

Which brings us to all the single skank ho’s I’ve been banging this past few years, and how none of them have ever progressed to the co-habiting relationshit status.

Which brings us to how all those single skank ho’s have fared sailing those waters alone, or with a succession of crew / deckhands that come and go on the good ship Venus.

The ones I know something about… not well… not one of them… no exceptions… shades of Cheech & Chong, Basketball Jones…. and Tyrone Shoelaces.. I’m Gwana Kickbooti… bitches are all so in love (Jones-ing for) with some fictional idea of the next chapter in their fucking cupcake lives, that their real lives go swirling down the shitter….

Literally, I mean literally in every sense of the word, going from “two things I said I would never do are gangbangs and doing it for money”…  well 12 months later one of them things is gone and she has had “conversations” with people, several times, about going on the game….  to my mind they are both long gone, hell I paid for it, not directly, but it still amounts to the same thing, even if the hourly rate was about an buck an hour…

Not much further to sink, except renting her own kids out, which frankly speaking isn’t that great a retrograde step from their current lives, either for her or them.

Harsh, but true.

This is the bit where that lesson dad taught me saves me from shit, ain’t getting hitched to *that* fucking wagon… no siree…

=======================================================

The corporate world isn’t that different, let’s take a place that almost nobody who reads this blog is from, so we can all view it equally, as outsiders… it isn’t any different to here, or the US, or Germany, or India, or China, or Oz or anywhere else… but plenty of readers from all of those places, so they will find it harder to be objective.

Ukraine.

You have between 3 and 7 different business “cabals”, each of which comprises of one or more very very rich and powerful person, and a small close circle of very rich and powerful people with broadly similar aims.

One cabal wants Ukraine in the EU, one wants it in the Euro, one wants it to be DHL for Russian gas, one doesn’t, you get the picture.

Below this level are all the pieces, Tymoshenko Turchynov Yatsenyuk and so on, politicians, lawyers, people who are merely multi-millionaires or billionaires, these people can be sacrificed on the board, usually just taken off the board until the next game, but sometimes actually sacrificed.

Below this level is the State and Government and Law Enforcement as we, the proles, know it….

When people say things like it is all fun and games until someone loses an eye, that is true, but unless it is you, or someone else on your level that loses the eye, that doesn’t matter… it’s not “real” and the games can go on.

In many ways these “cadres” are the true terrorist organisations, and they are as hard to act against as it is to nail jelly to a wall, they aren’t an army, or a company, or even a family, in the way we of the common folk understand it.

Amusingly, I don’t think this is all *inherently* bad, the very same attitudes that were behind the English enclosures acts and the discovery and simple taking of America and Australia and the dividing up of oil resources below the Arabian gulf are a good thing, if they are applied to new resources….. apply them to “discovering” Mars and “dividing” up the resources in the asteroid belts and they become essential and beneficial for mankind, apply them to a finite and shrinking (due to increasing population density or per capita energy use) pool such as English common land and they duck donkey balls.

Outright wars of attrition between cadres are rare, M.A.D. y’see…

Cadres aren’t the illuminati, (there ain’t no such thing) nor are they everlasting and unchanging… sure, the British Royal Family are still living off the gravy of all they stole at spearpoint and pass down through inheritance, but in the real scheme of things they are also ran’s now, bit players, not world makers and shakers, but the steam age created new cadres, the electric age ditto, the oil age ditto, and to a certain extent the digital age.

This is not a million miles away from saying the so called Dark Ages weren’t actually that dark, except from the perspective of someone who loved empire and meticulous record keeping….

———————————————————————————————-

The plight of any European country after the fall of Rome and the start of the so-called Dark Ages can be compared to my dad dying and leaving me insufficient estate to buy a single pint of beer.

It doesn’t actually fuck you up, so, anything you get in the future, you have to earn it yourself… big deal…. is that really such a *bad* thing?

With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, just by being prudent and careful, my dad could *easily* have made me an overnight millionaire the day he died, and not just millionaire, but CEO too.

Tell me, who else on the planet lost out because he didn’t? And really, what did I “lose”, something I never had, a bunch of extra power and money that I couldn’t handle anyway…

Shades of Jesus being offered an Iron Cross by Adolf, if Jesus will let him in to Heaven, so Jesus goes and asks his dad if he can let Adolf in, and God says to Jesus “Nah, tell him to fuck off boy, you couldn’t even handle a fucking wooden cross, much less an iron one…”

On the contrary, what I would have lost, had dad left me a few million and a company or three, is the chance to learn, to be one of the common people, to have no burdens except those which I managed to trip over myself.

The cadres are as trapped by their situation as we are, the shark cannot stop swimming, the bear cannot stop eating, the elephant cannot stop moving to find fresh grazing…

The CEO cannot go down to one plant and speak to one worker and try to make his job and his lot and his work on the company product better… the only tools he has are blunt and crude and massive.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

However, none of this presupposes that anyone at any level is doing the best they can, or knows what the fuck they are doing, or is largely a victim of circumstance.

What would you do if I handed you US$ 250,000,000,000 right now, to do with as you please?

Funny thing is, once you get past the shit about “buy the company and sack the boss” and “buy a lambo” and “hire Van Halen for my next birthday”, funny how NONE of these cunts end up doing the things we all say we would do, living our own personal dreams.

Let’s say your personal dream is doing a Bogey, buying an old tramp steamer and wandering around the south china seas as the whim takes you, plying your trade.

Fucking try it…. that world ain’t there any more, and if there is no trade, you may as well make it a Feadship, and if you do that the relationship between you and the crew is different, and with the pirates, you can’t be one of the old school and have a few .50 cal brownings on the bridge wings, so suddenly you are basically floating around restricted seas in your gin palace, no more real freedom than you had when you started out.

That’s what the sci-fi books always get wrong too, because it always comes back to human nature and society, the independent space ship captain, they always were an anachronism, even back in the day before society and technology got organised enough to eradicate any niches that they managed to inhabit.

Those that were there were part pirate, part thief, part honest man, part drunk, and mainly trying to get a break, away from the glamour of the silver screen, it wasn’t all that.

It still isn’t, independent private hire self employed taxi guy vs Stagecoach + Virgin Rail + British Airways + DHL, all of whom work together and publish fixed schedules and so on.

He does it because there are fuck all other alternatives, not because he could have been Greyhound…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When my dad died and left me not quite enough money to buy a pint of beer, I did, literally, the only thing I could do, I fished in my own pocket for some coppers until I had enough to buy a pint of beer, went into the nearest pub, bought that pint of beer and drank it, here’s to you dad…

You know what, that ain’t such a bad thing.

Less than a pint of beer is more, much much more, than several million pounds.

June 28, 2014

Happy birthday bro

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 11:19 am

So there I was dropping some presents off, as you do when you get elected to be the free DHL guy by dint of the fact you actually do pass that way now and again, and it is off the beaten track for everyone else, not that I want to give any wrong impressions here, I have known this guy forever, hell, one of his now-all-growed-up sons is named after me, I can’t say I particularly like him, nor do I have an issue with him, it’s just the whole second marriage and marriage has to work at any cost thing that leaves me cold.

So anyway, because I am the free DHL guy as opposed to the paid version, and all of the above, it’s wasn’t a crash priority pre 10:30 to get that shit there on the day, so they akshully got there middayish the day after his fucking birthday… cuntish? Not so much, he’s out at work, so his bitch invites me in for a coffee, mini biatch is there too, school’s out, but not the way old Alice sang it, turns out they were all so busy running around after mini biatch, it being fucking school prom night, fancy dresses and stretch limo’s and all that imported American pwintheth bullshit, that this guy only got round to opening his own presents at 20 minutes to midnight, of birthday celebrations for himself, not so fucking much.

Don’t get me wrong, as a mid fifties guy myself I don’t give a fuck about birthdays, or presents, or any other bullshit, it’s just another day to me, if it happens to fall on a working day, so what, but, there is a fucking world of difference between *that* and then coming home after a day’s work and spending all my evening until nearly fucking midnight running around after some mini skank… you dig…

Bitch looks at mini biatch the way some low IQ bint with acrylic nails looks at her first ever cupcake from the $1,000 K-tel cup-cake-o-matic machine, with awe and pride at what she has “made”….. smug shit eating self satisfied smiles, do I wanna see her fucking prom dress… no, not really, she’s a sexless little skank so I’m not even that interested in seeing her out of her fucking prom dress, know what I mean.

Meanwhile mini skank is “talking to me” for values of talking to me that if you write it down and read it, it sounds like a polite young lady, how are you, are you well, oh that’s nice, of course there isn’t even an ounce of sincerity in it, bitch knows nothing about me, and I don’t just mean on an existential level, we don’t spend any time in each other’s company, and I have a sneering curl to my lip as I watch some mini skank try to blow smoke up my ass while devoting 95% of her attention to the fucking ipad…

I slurp down the rest of my designer coffee from the $1,500 designer coffee machine and boogie.

If I could find me a woman who was not a shallow worthless lying fuck I’d be all over that ass, but that would be like finding a fucking penguin in the Sahara, it really doesn’t matter what the genetics or anything else has to say, there really just isn’t the environment for an aquatic bird to survive more than a day or so, vultures-r-us.

I guess that’s what yesterdays post was all about, I see a penguin in the fucking desert, and some small quisling part of me wants to plop down a walk in freezer right next to it with the door open.

Course if you do, the fucking “penguin” won’t walk in, much less walk in and high five you and then blow you out of gratitude, because it isn’t a fucking penguin, just a vulture on the way back from a hen party dressed as a nun.

The vulture will die in that environment, just as the modern skank ho slut will die in an environment that a man would create for “wife and partner”, the whole domestic scene, it’s as fatal to the vulture as the desert is to the penguin.

That’s why the bitches don’t take you up on your offer, sure, they are momentarily impressed by some cunt with the agency and ability to plonk Arctic conditions down in the middle of a desert, but unless you are going to use that agency and ability to produce a pile of dead fluffy baby bunny wabbits for them to gorge on…. WTF is the point.

I was going to sit here and type “I might as well…” but the fact is, it’s not might as well, I really do pine for the days when you could get on a motorcycle and ride that bitch, and there were no computers or digital anything, unless da po-lice actually physically fucking stopped you and nicked you, you weren’t nicked, none of this shit about speed camera photos landing on your doormat 10 days later, or automatic number plate recognition systems checking instantly and live with centralised computer databases of data, or fucking photo-card licences or anything else.

I pine for them because I experienced them, sure, the end of them, but I did experience them, in the flesh, myself.

But, there is an essential element of human nature we are omitting here, lets say I start out looking for a bog standard 1970 style and ethos motorsickle, but brand new, from a dealer, it doesn’t matter why, recapturing my lost youth if you like, the point here is supply and demand, this is the thing I want to buy.

The dealers only want to sell me iphone with two wheels attached.

I get a bit more aggressive about what I want, fuck bog standard 70’s shit, I want a Z1.

The dealers point at the new for 2014 tree hugging electric iphone on wheels.

I get a bit more aggressive, now I want a Harris frame Z1, 4 into 1 open megaphones, and matt black, all matt black

You see where this is going, and it applies to all human beings everywhere.

The skanks, for their part, as soon as they started down the unrealistic demands for men, started narrowing the field of what was available, and their response to that was to get ever more demanding.

Guys, we have done the same, wimminz that quite frankly would have been acceptable to be as co-habiting material in 1990 weren’t acceptable in 2000, and what was acceptable in 2000 wasn’t acceptable in 2010.

We end up increasingly sectarian, with the odd alien intrusion here and there, the proverbial hap-illy married couple that are still in love and still married 40 years on… and going strong…

Of course every time you buy a mad max warrior bike that turns out to be an electric scooter with a body kit, you get more cynical and sectarian, which is where the thing comes from about wimminz who have already bailed on one father of her womb turds / relationshit being a doubly risky bet for any subsequent relationshit.

Yeah, the bitch is genuinely a really good fuck, but she already has two different kids by two different fathers, plus she is overweight, what the fuck else do you need to know?

Just that it is the nature of the man to try to fix shit, even shit that can’t be fixed, and maybe, you tell yourself, at the dealer’s urging, that the iphone with wheels is still better than walking.

I guess it’s the same reason I don’t go to concerts any more, or bike rallies, or the IoM, or any of that shit, it isn’t a case of nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, fnaar fnaar, but that shit really ain’t what it used to be.

As someone who grew up around shit like the original Z1, not just buying, but even riding a retro like the 1100 zephyr, it’s not just fucking “less”, but because it is trying to ape something that is no longer, it won’t just make me hunger even more for a real Z1, oh no, that won’t be fucking good enough any more, I want the fucking rest of the deal too, po-lice without computers and cameras and digital shit, bitches wearing tight jeans and knee high boots and frilly white blouses and wescots, 80 pence a gallon petrol, a fucking pint of beer for 40 p and a packet of fags for 32 p, and while we are at it, I want my fucking hair back too, and I want to once again be able to do a couple of blotters of acid and a couple of wraps of speed and chain smoke grass and cannabis and drink several pints of beer, not just in a day, but every fucking day….

You see the problem with not giving a person the basics, and then baiting them with plastic imitations of the real thing…

The baiting is just adding insult to injury.  Much better to just shrug and say them days are gone, y’all ain’t ever going to ride some bitching piece of machinery half way to oblivion to check out Sniff and the Tears opening for Kansas no more.

That, or start being realistic, both as buyers and sellers, nobody got fuck all to offer, nobody willing to pay more than 5c for anything, nobody trusts anyone, it’s the flea market at the refugee camp, people with one shoe and one sock hoping to do enough roundabout trades to get two shoes, or maybe two socks, or maybe just some bog roll and a blow job…..  just take a fucking hike with all that other shit that is your stock in trade today bitch.

Couple of fat old attitude dripping bitches, that’s where I was heading back from when I did the free DHL birthday delivery guy thing that this post started with, up their own asses, why don’t I come back some time and spend some money in their shop because they are lovely wimminz, the fact that it took me, a fucking man, to drive to your fucking useless shop that doesn’t stock anything I fucking want and fix your fucking internet connection so you could actually fucking TRADE…. crickets…

 

June 27, 2014

And on our left, we have another asshole.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 12:03 am

oops, it’s a mirror, which means the asshole is me.

Can’t actually say I got played again, because I put nothing out, just got ma groove on, can’t even actually say I bought any of that shit, no, the sin I committed against myself was to temporarily entertain the mere possibility that some one (OK, some skank) might have learned a lesson.

That’s the trouble with my attempt to render extinct the possibility of giving a fuck about a skank, I’m not really an individual, more of a collective, and it seems some members of the collective, albeit reclusive and very minor members, have taken some of the last surviving members of the poor leno genus and kept the cunts alive in a zoo.

I’m talking about this because I can’t talk about work, which was utterly fucking pathetic today, because if I do talk about work I will blow my cover totally, might as well just come out and name names, but it was a classic example of a whole series of fucked up decisions that all follow on from some corporate asshole actually cancelling something on a fixed date at the beginning of a project, according to the alleged schedules that this project would run to, said schedules and costings being of course conjured up out of thin air by the sales team of the new supplier of that something, and some other bullshit, probably trebles all around at the 19th hole…

OK cupid is fucking me off too, apart from myself, all the >80% matches are fucking 18 years old, which I can sorta go along with, or fucking yanks, which I can’t, or fucking freaks, which I can’t.

I got a sneaking suspicion that poor leno got cousins, and they live in the work environment and in OKC and prolly a lot of other slices of life too, which means it may be time to call it quits of just shooting every one of the bastards I see, and just agent orange-ing every-fucking thing, that, or take off and nuke the fucker from orbit, it’s the only way to be sure.

Gotta make sure there ain’t no skanks on the crew though, they’re sure to allow one of the poor leno’s off the surface as a stowaway somewhere, so nuke the bitches too.

Not wanting to report on the Ukraine, or Russia agreeing to take payment in Roubles or Yuan for hydrocarbons sold to China, our lovely press has fuck all to talk about except more alleged crimes from the never charged much less convicted, but the cunt is dead now so he can’t sue us for calling him a monster paedo at every turn, Jimmy Saville, apparently he was boogying down with corpses down the mortuary as well… though dead and buried, you’re not forgotten, cos I’ll dig you up, and fuck you rotten…

Comes a time, and you have to admit, if these are all examples of human beings, then I’m drifting away from humanity, or, if I am human still, they all are, either way it’s getting to be bestiality at best, and if you’re going down that road things like the age or sexual maturity or mental capacity of the beast you are about to hump have already faded into insignificance.

All I do know is I got nothing in common with the fucks, so whatever alleged atrocities one group of assholes allegedly commit against some other group of assholes, it all makes no fucking difference to me at all.

Don’t get me wrong, this doesn’t mean I’m about to start my own personal red brigade and start offing assholes everywhere, quite the opposite, I don’t care one iota if the cunts live or die (just stop screaming while I’m trying to get some shut eye eh) which means I have exactly the same motivation to save one of the worthless fucks as I do to fuck them up, which is to say, precisely none.

I’m a personable and likeable enough asshole, I know that, people who meet me in the flesh don’t have any issues with me, but at the same time I know this shit just runs off me like air cooled below the dew point pouring off a flask of liquid nitrogen, not just an odour, but an effect so strong it is visible to the naked eye.

But instead of what I would expect, all these worthless cunts (OK, not all, but quite a few eh) seem to have the equivalent of the TG brain parasite that makes cat piss smell interesting to mice…. these worthless cunts find me interesting… go figure…

Stop the world, I wanna get off.

Actually, that’s not true, I want these cunts to get off.

We have gone soooooooooooooo far down the road of lies and bullshit about absolutely everything that even bloated unfuckable land whales, even if they are only 25, on swinging sites are throwing hissy fits because some bloke they turned down left em with a parting shot that her tits were way droopy for a twenty-something, which is true, and an understatement, and doesn’t even go near the rest of that fucked up protoplasm.

How is a guy like me supposed to get laid in a world like that? Pretty much by treating it all like bestiality, but I’m not that into bestiality, so you end up like a post apocalyptic smoker, all the cigarettes are long gone, and all there is to smoke is some old dried potato skins, and who the fuck wants to smoke that…

Things are fucked up when you start feeling like some Jules Verne character who hides away from the world out of disgust for humanity, better to go down the path of Dr Moreau, but that market has already been corners, with skimpily dressed 6 year old giving pole dancing demonstrations at primary school open / parents days, and I shit you not on that one.

Pre-pubescent children sexualised in every way possible by the MSM and state and world + dog, apart from actual hardcore pornography and actual physical sex acts, oh no, must not do that, you filthy paedo, and you must also look at all this blatantly sexual shit and not see anything sexual in it.

Which is a problem for me, because I will not do hot and cold, on and off, up and down, in and out, together and apart, with you and without you, the price is just too fucking high, and there is no pay-off.

In the year 2014, the most incredible, unlikely and unbelievable, literally, the thing least likely to be uttered or believed, is the fucking truth.

The last sightings were in the 19th century on the shores of Madagascar, where it was being stalked by the Dodo.

It’s the feeling I had when the psycho skank ho ex dropped the FRA on my un-suspecting ass, and then I start having to talk to da po-lice, lawyers, social workers and all, all of whom are only interested in twisting everything I say and taking it the wrong way and insisting I answer bullshit questions like “do you still beat your wife” with a yes or no answer, but now it is how the wider world is.

I mean, come on, be fucking serious, what the fuck am I supposed to say when I see a fucking six year old mini skank in a skimpy bikini doing the bump and grind on a pole???? “Will the bitch burst if I fuck her?”… cos you can fucking guarantee that no matter what you do say, however much or little truth or honesty or reticence you inject into it, it will be wrong and criticised and used as an opening to put you down with.

The parents and the pole dancing teachers and the school and everyone else is innocent, but god help you if you whip out your smart-phone and take a picture of your own kid, and this mini skank is bumping and grinding in the background, cos that’s kiddie porn bro, an absolute offence, which means no defence is legally possible.

Hell of a thing to live in a world where there are “crimes” to which is it legally impossible to make any kind of defence, and “courts” that are secret and closed, and gagging orders with penal notices attached for anyone who dares to fucking say anything.

***waiting*** for the fucking collapse??? It’s already underway.

June 26, 2014

Ama-chewer night

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 10:39 am

Back in the day, “professional” meant you did it full time as a job, and “amateur” meant you did it part time for fun, it did not *necessarily* mean that the pro was better than the amateur.

Sure, there were other connotations that went along with it, the pro was expected to “behave professionally” and so on, so footballers biting each other on the pitch was not the mark of the pro, google Stanley Matthews if you want the definition of a pro, even though the remuneration back then meant it was more in line with being 3 or 4 times the average working man’s weekly wage, not the stellar amounts paid now.

That was the flip-side, as an amateur there were loads of things and standards and approaches that you could get away with, any of which, as a pro, would see you instantly fired..

As a young boy I got a job “pumping gas” at the local petrol station, three days later I was fired for stealing £3, turns out they were having quite the run on thieving new part time employees stealing between £3 and £5 by taking the money for the fuel and not putting it in the till, about two months after I was sacked for stealing they discovered it was the full timer, he was nicking the money and blaming the new kid every time, he didn’t want any part timers, he wanted all the tips.

The owner was what we called “unprofessional” for his behaviour, he just took what he was told by his full time staff member and ran with it, in effect, he was not aware and in control and managing his business.

I spent three hours yesterday, on the company clock, shooting the shit with a fellow employee, easy to do when your entire days work gets aborted the instant you turn up on each site because head office has neglected to get all the required ducks in a row.

We were discussing lack of professionalism, do this shit ONCE and back in the day you got sacked, and these cunts are doing it almost. every. single. fucking. job. I. turn. up. to….. fucking unbelievable.

The guy is more or less a man after my own heart, but younger, less experienced, it took him longer to peer through the corporate bullshit, he like everyone else is swayed by the corporate bullshit, swanky head offices, glitzy PR crap and we wanna be like google and apple and everyone else with our flashy plate glass offices.

I asked him if he knew what our annual turnover was this year past, he did.

I asked him if he knew what one retail site alone of one of our corporate clients turned over a week, he did… I looked at him… penny dropped, he did the math, pretty fucking similar numbers.

Yeah, and StarMart has a pretty similar employee headcount, and it has to be said pretty similar wages, except the staff at StarMart don’t all get leased BMW’s to drive around in and burn a tank of diesel a day in, and the shit StarMart sells gives them a greater profit margin than us.

Suddenly he sees that our company is all smoke and mirrors, financially speaking they aren’t that healthy, they CANNOT be, the numbers just aren’t there (and as field guys we do see the spreadsheets and numbers) and the only thing we don’t know are the banking details, if we are operating on rolling bank finances, likely since we are in a round of corporate acquisitions, then we are keenly dependent both on on-going revenue and day to day interest rates.

Piss poor management trying to outgrow its troubles to the point where they can issue an IPO, get bought out, and retire.

Good luck with that in mid to late 2014….

Cunt has been with the company several years, compared to my less than two, he is on the same pay grade as me, but a thousand a year less munnay…. go fucking figure.

Pennies are dropping all over the place.

Then he drops a good one, he has known it for over a year since he overheard it, it just didn’t click, one of the guys on a much higher pay grade at corporate circle jerk central, who, frankly, ain’t that fucking good, ya dig, but he is on three times the money we are, saying that guys at our level out in the field were basically the shit that worked in the sewers, fuck em.

Only thing is, *we* are the only ones in the entire corporate structure whose jobs *cannot* be outsourced and off-shored, it takes a warm body on site to physically do certain tasks, no amount of virtualisation or remote working can bridge that hardware gap.

We both agree, we don’t do corporate bollocks overtime because basically it don’t pay enough to be worthwhile, and then my phone goes, my line manager, Tom, Dick and Harry are off sick, any chance I can cover on call for a day or two, I know you don’t like overtime because it don’t pay enough, says my line manager, ok, no quids, so I’ll take a quid pro quo, time off in lieu… he grumbles but agrees.

We part ways and one more staff member has decided to add themselves to our already rather shocking staff turnover statistics, via six months off for stress while looking for something else, I didn’t push the guy, I just talked straight shit, told it like it was, told him what he already knew, the five that could cover my region in addition to me, at a push, are now down to four….. you think it’s hot in this kitchen, I like it real fine, it’s a nice dry heat….lol

Search this blog for stories about the sound guy and the camera guy filming lions… oh yeah…

My two days on call, well, fuck all ever happens midweek, behind every hardware failure there is always a human being somewhere, and human beings work on calendar cycles, yeah, we’ll tidy up the comms cabs and re-arrange some of the desktop this friday afternoon so it won’t affect the working week, so shit gets broken for the weekend, and instead of being on call, Tom Dick and Harry just swapped…. hey, how the hell do you think this guy ended up driving 4+ hours each way to do a 1 hour job in my region in a site that is only 90 minutes away for me…

I’m just an ex professional doing amateur porn, cos I like it like that…lol

June 24, 2014

In praise of Engineers.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , — wimminz @ 4:16 pm

(disclaimer.. I are one..lol)

Nota Bene, when I say “Engineers” I of course am speaking of “Real Engineers”, which means mechanical engineers, marine engineers, aeronautical engineers, hydraulic engineers, electrical engineers, chemical engineers, nuclear engineers.

I am most certainly *not* talking about so called “software engineers” and the like, they are not engineers.

There is a saying that I like, a lot.

“The differences between Theory and Practice, are greater in practice, than in theory.”

The Real Engineers always, always, always, has to deal with practice, eg the real world.

Real Engineers cannot, for example, alter the modulus of elasticity of air, or the mass of a cubic foot of water, or the energy required to raise a load from point A to point B, etc etc etc etc.

99.99% of the problems the world faces right now, are down to the fact that there are no real engineers anywhere near any of the top levels of any group or organisation or sector in society.

BTW, even though my daily toil is connecting business to teh intertubes, the cisco kid, it isn’t engineering, I effectively retired from engineering over 20 years ago… not because there was no engineering work available, but because what there was, was so vastly undervalued, remuneration wise…. literally three days after telling their workshop manager (yours truly) that they can’t afford to increase my salary, which was already less than the fucking company secretary’s, the directors *literally* took delivery of a brand new fleet of Porsche 944’s, one each.

I just packed all my tools in my van and drove away. Fuck em.

Of course, these were the cunts singing that oh so familiar refrain, they’d ask me some stupid question, or to do something stupid, or to do something for 25% of what it cost to do it properly, or in 25% of the time it took to do it properly, and I’d tell them “Can’t be done“… to which they always wanted to know “why not“, and of course any explanation as to why not was dismissed, that is just something else that could be done, if only this lazy fucking incompetent workshop manager of ours was any fucking good, so I’d just look at them and say “OK smart-ass, *you* show *me* how it is fucking done….”  but but but, that’s what we pay YOU for… make it so.

That business has changed hands about six times since then, of course the only reason it is still trading at all is location, it is literally the only one around, and the topology of the land means that isn’t going to change.

I’m at a fucking site today and I overhear a conversation about a customer, some cunt has bought a 4 kW 3-phase ice maker, only trouble is, he only has a single phase supply, which can deliver the power, just not the way this machine wants it, so the cunt goes to his supplier and asks them to price up a single phase to three phase inverter….

In reality, even though I ain’t a fucking sparky, this guy’s cheapest option would have been to get a 5 kW 3-phase  alternator and direct couple it to a 6 kW single phase synchronous  motor, well, second cheapest option.

Cheapest option would have been to buy a fucking single phase icemaker, or see about converting the 3 phase one to single phase, which may or may not have been viable.

So the site itself, just being a supplier / distributor, is looking for what the customer asked for, an “inverter” and what they are getting is loads of boat stuff, DC to AC, and a lot of motive power stuff, eg VFD stuff.

Blind leading the fucking blind.

Hey, what the fuck do I know, I’m there to fix teh intertubez, right…

My mind went straight back to old Bob Thomas, dead many a year now, but he was alive and still trading in the late seventies / very early eighties, and people would walk in and ask him how much that over there is and ask him if he has this in stock and ask him if he can get a such and such, and ask him if he could get a thing to do this, just so……..

He never greeted people who walked in, just did a sort of inverted nod, where he nodded up instead of down, and made a small grunt, so the only speaking done so far was by the prospective customer.

Bob would then speak.

“Fuck Off”

and he’d just look at them, and ignore everything else they said, except maybe if they were still there a minute later “You still ‘ere boy? You deaf? No? Then Fuck Off.”

I nearly screwed my own personal relationship with Bob, if I bumped in to someone, especially some one from the cities, looking for what Bob sold, I take them to Bob’s, just to watch their faces.

If, however, you walked into Bob’s and put your wallet / chequebook on the counter, and said (and this is in the 1970’s mind ewe) “Hey, I’ve got a ’39 Jampot Norton and I need a gearbox output bearing, layshaft and 2nd and 3nd pinions, aset of bottom end shells and a pair of valve guides” he say ok, I can do all that for ee boy, but you shure you don’t want a 59 AMC gearbox, much better, got one ere somewhere, only fifty quid?

And yes, he would have everything on your list, some of it having been in stock since 1930 when his dad ran the place.

Bob may have looked like an old fart manning the store, but he was an engineer back in the day, and his standard approach to anyone who did not treat everything as an engineering problem at heart was to tell them to fuck off.

Earning £100 a week and spending £101 is an engineering problem at heart, yeah, there is some math in there, but the money is just a means, the truth is you are sinking, slowly…

To the engineer this is literally no different to saying I am extracting 100 litres of water a week from the well to the holding tank, but I am drawing 101 litres a week from the holding tank…. obviously this can continue only as long as there are any reserves in the holding tank…

To the engineer, there is no such concept as “nearly a virgin”, “nearly able to fly”, “nearly able to float” where “nearly” means anything other than “a miss is as good as a mile”.

Not a virgin, won’t fly, won’t float.

Sure, two of those three, all other things being equal, can probably be worked on enough that we can change nearly to barely, but the emphasis is on “worked on”, it will no longer be the same thing as it was previously.

Which is why engineers love and use concepts like prototypes and versions, eg Mk1 and Mk2 when in productions, and EP1, EP2, etc PP1, PP2 etc when in engineering and production prototype stage.

If EP1 does not float, and EP2 does float, to the engineer, floating or sinking are not the only differences, to the engineer, EP1 and EP2 are completely different beasts, and floating or sinking is merely one of many possible ways of categorising these differences.

No engineer will exhibit the least surprise at a statement such as the Mk1 and Mk2 Ford Escort both have 77,000 individual components, but only 37,000 in common, eg you can’t take a “wiper motor mount” from a Mk1 and fit it to a Mk2, or vice versa.

I doubt that there are more than 1,000 components from the Mk1 VW Golf that are in common with a Mk7 VW Golf, and I’ll lay long odds that 99% of them are fungible super generic things like fasteners (nuts and bolts), not even generic things likes electrical fuses or lamps.

Prototypes are also beloved by engineers because the models and designs never, ever, ever, ever, tell the whole story, or even the truth.. see one of my favourite sayings that this started out with.

Another truism is that the less competent you are at something, the more likely you are to over-estimate your actual level of competence.

EG, the worse your fucking model, the closer to the real world you probably fucking think it is.

In my days at sea I learned all the basic “knots”, which come in three varieties, stays knotted, un-knots easily on demand, modified or adapts something.

An splice stays joined/knotted.

A reef knot is stays knotted until you want to undo it, but it undoes easy, no matter the load (that was)  on it.

A carrick bend joins two different sizes of rope.

The guy who taught me knots would ask, have you got that down pat?

If you said yes, he would tell you to use that knot, and then risk your life on it, if you balked, you went back to learning it better…. his attitude was simple, other guys will have their safety affected by your knots, why shouldn’t you put your own body on the line first?

It all becomes much more “interesting” after you have demonstrated a 500lb test line lifting 5 cwt, then an identical piece from the same line breaking when trying to lift 3cwt, just by having a knot tied in it.

Rigging was the same thing, lift a big object like a piece of pipe with two chains joining into one lift chain, and the angle of the two chains determines how much of their original SWL they could carry, cutting it (SWL) by 70% or 80% wasn’t hard.

Again, you find guys who have worked with this shit for years have all seen ropes / cables and chains part at 10% of the load theory said they should have at that particular application.

Ditto fasteners, a 5/16″ steel bolt will carry a ton under tension easy, *most* of the time, I have seen 5/16″ steel bolts break in practice just under 1 cwt of load, you only gotta see it once to get real leery.

A six inch chain (anchor type, not drive type) link weighs around 350 Kg per link, a four incher about 90 Kg per link, a three incher is around 39 Kg per link, which just happens to also be about 39 Kg per foot, and 3″ is used quite a lot of 250 ton cranes on board (3 inch chain will test to 340 ton) for the final stage, so you will get 30 foot sections of this shit, you’re looking at 12,000 Kg there, all ready to accelerate at 9.81 metres per second squared downwards, and trust me, I have seen it drop 25 metres to a heavy steel cargo deck, it makes one FUCK of a racket, and the guys below wearing hard hats, they weren’t hit, but two of them literally shit themselves, and I don’t blame them one bit, and the whole crew walked off, straight into the bar, and not only do I not blame them, I joined them, even though I wasn’t responsible in any way for the cranes or lifting, even though I happened to be up on the main deck at the time.

You see a common theme here, the real engineers are always / regularly in contact with the real world, the ones who don’t get it, aren’t….

The REAL world is if you need to take home 250 a week to eat, keep a roof over your head and so on, and if you don’t take home 250 then nobody and nothing helps you, you go without, progressively all the way down to nothing, eg death through starvation or exposure or something.

The other world is where the Fed prints moar money, the State effectively pays you to churn out womb turds, your “home” becomes an ATM, cars and things are stuff you get by signing bits of paper, business and economy is something that doesn’t involve any manufacturing, just shuffling and taking a percentage, and the beat goes on.

Let’s look at Space-X for an example, credit where it is due, shit gets off the landing pad and so on and so forth, all good stuff.

But compared to an actual Russian heavy lift vehicle that can put your 3,000 Kg satellite into geo-stationary orbit NOW, it’s back to the old miss is as good as a mile, nearly a virgin, nearly flies, nearly floats.

Only a real engineer can understand just how *vastly* everyone else under estimates the significance of the old NASA / Apollo programme, Apollo was a fucking God, and so were all of those guys, least of all the astronauts themselves, who put a working fucking 4WD electric car on the fucking moon for fucks sake, over forty fucking years ago.

Now I am supposed to be impressed by a fucking Tesla or Chevy Volt or Nissan Leaf? Give me a fucking break.

This is a classic example of how things have changed, even though the original story was fictional..

But fictional though it was, it *could* have been a true story..

Not *too* dissimilar, this was a true story.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2168061/French-electrician-stranded-Moroccan-desert-rebuilt-wrecked-car-motorbike-drove-civilisation.html

Just imagine a 2014 remake of Ice Cold In Alex…. which was a true story..

 

 

June 19, 2014

Waiting for the train.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 12:21 pm

Imagine someone, now imagine the proverbial freight train lumbering down the tracks.

The someone is stood on the tracks, facing away from the train, which is approaching from behind, they are doing their best to imitate all three monkeys, fingers in their ears, eyes squeezed shut, chanting la-la-la-la-la

They know the freight train is coming, but by doing the three monkeys they can avoid thinking about the inevitable “meeting”.

It’s a lot easier, takes a lot less courage, than turning around, opening their eyes, and looking at he approaching train, they tell me…

Yeah, I say, thing is… if you face the train, you’ll step off the tracks, unless you really are fucking suicidal that is, thereby avoiding yet another train wreck in your life.

Does not compute, because that means facing the train, it’s like talking to a small child who is convinced monsters live under the bed and hiding under the covers is the only protection, once they give in to it, there is no way they can bring themselves to pull the covers down to take a peek, and every sound they hear becomes sounds the monsters are making.

It’s easy to ridicule this, but, to a certain extent, we all do it…

Let’s take work, I was talking to a mate about this this morning, we don’t work for the same place, but we know the details of what we both do, and he was thinking my job was secure, and I was saying it is as secure as the next paycheck, and this surprised him.

For my day job, I go to places that come under one of two categories, work wise, category one is break-fix, category two is everything else.

Category one, break-fix is obvious, hey, our intertubez is broke, send someone to fix it plz…

Category two, well, category two all, without exception, came out of a management meeting somewhere, whether it is changing an ISP, changing a ISP service, changing the IT systems, or change of a greater scale, eg a merger or acquisition.

Category two, quite often, like yesterday, I visit 4 sites, company A has bought company B, so I’m going in to get the basic internet connectivity in company B ready for merger and inclusion in company A.

Of the 4 sites yesterday, 2 of them are going to involve significant staff lay-offs at what was company B, and I’m not just talking the obvious stuff like IT staff, there is a lot of “duplication” to prune, accounts staff, dispatchers, buyers, sales droids, managers, the lot.

Probably 50% of those about to get the chop at each site don’t even know it yet, they haven’t seen my work orders, if they had, they would be able to see the writing on the wall…

But, they don’t actually *need* to see my work orders, sure, that is *more* data, but it is not like they have *no* data, or *insufficient* data, to determine that things, they are gonna be a changin’

They are in effect turning their back to the train, doing the three monkeys.

Sure, they spent the last six months whining about their lot, but change? No thanks…

So my mate says to me, you don’t trust you’ll have the job next month? And I say, well, thing is, I just got no way of knowing, ask me next month.

I know a lot of people reject this, I mean, you looking for a job bro? You handed in your notice? Many vacancies around? Y’all unhappy where you are?

The answer is no to all of the above.

Admitting uncertainty about the future doesn’t solve any problems, open any doors, make any decisions.

Nor does denying uncertainly, but, that also locks you down, eyes wide shut, back turned to the train.

Ask any driver, the difference between a crash and a miss always, without exception, comes down to one thing, reaction time.

The more you extend reaction time (as in extending the time available for reaction, not as in slowing the physical reaction time) the more you increase the possibility of not hitting that thing, and swinging safely past it, or pulling up short.

The only conclusion I can come to is this, people, generally, do not *want* choice. *conscious* choice, that is….

With choice comes the opportunity to make a bad choice.

Only when you are used to a lifetime of making choices do you start to realise a few things;

1/ It is almost impossible to make an optimal choice, that requires a shit load of luck, on demand.

2/ 99% of the choices you make are therefore sub-optimal.

3/ sub-optimal is another way of saying glass half full, or half empty?

4/ On aggregate, simply because of the extended reaction time, even sub-optimal choices tend to serve you better than three monkeys, back to the train, la-la-la-la…

5/ No matter what you do, it happens to you anyway.

Which kinds brings us back to the companies we all work for, including me and my mate…

Management hates to make “bad decisions”, so instead of staring down the tracks at the various oncoming trains, and making 99% sub-optimal choices, knowing that there ain’t no such animal as an optimal choice, they let 95% of those opportunities to at least have a choice pass them by, and the remaining 5%, well, they are always worse than the sub-optimal choices that they avoided taking, because they were sub-optimal…. donchaknow

So the next thing you get is like the global warming shit DMJ is currently taking about, this was a fucking good choice we just made, a fucking informed choice, a fucking excellent choice, and dissenters will be taken out and shit-canned at dawn…

Shoot the fucking messenger, that way you don’t have to address the message.

That way you can spend the rest of your adult life hiding under the covers, in case the monsters are there…. and you basically invite the fox in the night to come in and steal all your shit, and shit in your shoes.

But you were hiding under the covers, you didn’t see no fox, so you have proof that monsters exist, look, your shit is gone, and right there, monster shit in your shoes… see, you were fucking right to hide under the covers.

June 17, 2014

Your money or your life.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 9:50 pm

You know those game shows, the simp has gotten 3 answers right so far (“what is 2+2?” “How many grams in a kilogramme?” etc) and they have “won” 500 bucks, they don’t actually have the cash yet, but they could have, all they have to do is say “Far enough, gimme the money.”

But no, they try the 4th question, when they get harder, OK Mrs Scum, for 2,500 bucks, who was Long John Baldry?”

crickets

Mrs Scum exits stage left, as broke as she walked in.

1/ She HAD 500 bucks, all she had to do was take it.

2/ She will be pining for the 2,500 that she not only did not have, but got a shot at and failed to get.

Item 1 is reality, but it is item 2 she will be pining for.

This is human nature, and also the nature of game shows, which, quelle surprise, are specifically written to exploit human nature.

Right there, you have the answer as to why the guy, who is the last one to get the news, gets upset when he finally realises that Buffy ain’t gonna be impaling herself on his stake no more, not ever again. (or never will, if she hasn’t in the past)

He hasn’t actually lost anything at this point, to lose something you have to first have it, what you HAD was Roseanne, the 2, with beer goggles, there for the taking, but you passed it up, wanting a shot at Buffy, the 5, sober, and I say he, but men share this with wimminz, they do the exact same shit, this is HUMAN nature, not men / wimminz / niggerz nature.

I can sit here, and if I choose, type two skank’s names.

I have fucked them both in the past, regularly.

Both have stated that they want to see (fuck) me again, circumstances allowing, and I make no comment of any kind about the truth in this, except to observe that the last time I fucked one she did that thing that wimminz say is the way to tell if you are “the one” eg she calls you when she is drunk..lol

What I do do, is have an attitude like, I do not know what the weather will be, this coming Saturday the 21st of June 2014, if it is sunny I may take advantage of it and do X, if it is not I may do Y.

Life is not a fucking game-show, and if you find yourself thinking and acting and feeling like a “contestant” on one, you aren’t the contestant, it isn’t your 15 minutes of fame, it isn’t an opportunity to walk away with a million, YOU ARE THE FUCKING “MARK”, the product, the fall guy, the dope, you get the idea.

You know who you are bro, read this and wake the fuck up, you’re making a spectacle of yourself.

(for a friend)

I can hear the guitars start to play
And very soon they say
I was a fool to turn my love away
And with each glass of wine I feel a glow
And very soon I know
I was a fool to let my baby go

So let the heartaches begin
I can’t help it, I can’t win
I’ve lost that girl for sure
Tears won’t help any more
Yes let the heartaches begin
I can’t help it, I can’t win
I’ve lost that girl for sure
Now she’s gone
I can’t hold back the tears any more

I can see the couples dancin’ through the night
They hold each other tight
As they dance of love till the morning light
The soft embraces that they seem to share
Just make me feel aware
Of the loneliness I find so hard to bear

So let the heartaches begin
I can’t help it, I can’t win
I’ve lost that girl for sure
My tears won’t help any more
Yes let the heartaches, heartaches begin
I just can’t help it,you know that I just can’t win
I’ve lost that girl for sure
And now that she’s gone
I can’t hold back the tears any more

 

June 16, 2014

Throbbing Gristle

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , — wimminz @ 3:01 pm

A funny old thing happened on the way to the khazi…

… I saw a piece of paper on the floor that had blown off the table, and there was a doodle on the back, done while I was speaking to someone on the phone, which meant most of it was illegible scribbles.

You know shit is bad when you are struggling to read your OWN fucking handwriting, but anyway, I digress, so after some squinting and tilting my head, I realised / remembered this particular doodle said “range anxiety”

As in electric car range anxiety.

Bullshit, I have said this before, people are quite happy to ride high powered motorcycles with thirsty engines and teeny tiny fuel tanks, fuck it, I used to ride a SOHC 750 honda chop back in the day with a fucking 1.1 gallon peanut tank… 50 miles range if you were lucky.

I didn’t have range anxiety, I had fucking refuelling anxiety, especially back then in the seventies, when lots of garages just closed at 7pm… and it is the same with electric cars, if I know that;

  • I can refuel, as in find a place to refuel, within my remaining range, no worries.
  • If the entire refuelling process from pulling in to driving away again takes no more than 5 or 10 minutes, no worries.

So again, something that is, is being ignored and instead people talk about something that isn’t. It’s not range anxiety. It is refuelling/recharging anxiety.

Deliberate or accidental, this is very dangerous shit.

It is very dangerous shit, because I’d run out of ink if I tried to write a list of everyone I know whose life is a fuck-up and who are their own worst enemy, because of doing this exact same shit.

They have a real thing, but they don’t like that, so they will call it something else, and that something else has consequences, but they don’t like that either, so they will call that something else again, and that something else again is then used to excuse a course of action that is frankly, abhorrent, crass, self-indulgent and thoroughly bad karma.

I look at what you ***DO***, as opposed to everything else, including what you say, and your policy is clearly to utterly destroy both yourself and your children and anyone unfortunate enough to be involved with you.

Nevertheless, you will have a series of excuses for how none of this is your fault and it’s not like you had any choices, and this entire construct is based upon a series of things that, you guessed it, are not called what they are, but something else entirely.

I dunno, I am a very rich man, I mean stinking fucking rich, richer than fucking Croesus, richer than entire fucking countries… I shit you not, you see, I do not owe anyone US$ 4,500,000,000 for gas, and owe it so badly that the supplier turns the fucking taps off and says NO MORE ICE CWEEM FOR YEW…

Harry Stanton and Emilio Estevez turn up to repossess y’all’s mountains and arable land, cos, like, y’all are delinquent with the payments bro…

Meanwhile over at ZH, there is a no shit sherlock story about a bunch of central bankers who have spent US$ 30,000,000,000,000 on the stock markets, which is like 50% of the value of everything on the planet, hey, it’s easy to buy shit when you own the printing presses that make the money you used to pay for it all with…

… but then everyone reverts to a room temperature IQ and starts talking about central bankers as though they are all members of the Tallahassee Fisting Club, when the reality is of course much closer to saying they are all separate termite colonies, from the outside they all look the same, and different to “us”, whoever the fuck us is, but from the inside no colony has any real qualms about being in competition for resources from another colony.

A better analogy is the various crazed raghead terr-rist clans, from the pews of your congregational denominational pentecostal revelational motivational church of the white jehovah and his bitch, them raghead fuckers all look they same, and they all hate us for our freedom fries.

Left to their own devices, if there are no handy running dog imperialist fruit company lackeys to behead and play polo with, there are plenty of internecine rivalries to be going on with, all blood looks pretty much the same when it is being spilled…. hoo-rah..

Meanwhile the chocolate prezzident and his top, the man formerly known as Michael have just realised what all the confusion is all about, when everyone else talked about exit strategies they were talking about middle eastern mil-tech proving grounds, *he* thought they were talking about his exit from the Whyte Haus to a well earned retirement on the 19th hole.

Ayatollah Blair is saying none of this is his fault, except we should nuke all the wogs, especially the foreign ones who who don’t believe in the holy trinity of Tony, Cherie and Euan.

In microcosm it is all *exactly* like any fucked up company you care to name, Hewlett-Packard is no different except in scale to the world as a whole, and all the other companies are the same, as are all governments, et-fucking-cetera.

eg every last action of the company is deliberate and planned by the CEO, total awareness, total control.

And yet there are still cunts who insist that there is a secret cabal running it all.

It’s like those oh so tired and formulaic and boring science fiction stories, in which the poor benighted human race faces insurmountable odds time and time and time again, because the head of the Black Mesa Corporation and, in his mind, rightful heir to the Emperor’s throne, has done a deal with the inimical tentacle raping alien Muslim hordes…

LIFE

ISN’T

FUCKING

LIKE

THAT

Life is fucking chaotic.

Man, in his way, tries to impose order on the chaos, but imposing order is one thing, trying to impose control and supremacy is another thing entirely.

The unsung heroes of the past century are all the engineers and tradesmen and workers who lifted us from the low energy of the steam age to our present riches.

The unsung villains of the piece are all the worthless turds and flotsam that also got raised by that tide, they floated to the top and then thought it was all their own doing.

Natures normal love of chaos, the random number generator that ensures that the maximum possible number of different approaches are tried for every single evolutionary challenge, is ready to chew bubblegum and kick ass.

MAN did things like take 0.01% of the Banana biodiversity and then populate the entire planet with not merely a monoculture, where just one genus or type of grain or crop is permitted to grow, but a fucking CLONE culture, I have only ever eaten one banana, I have just done it thousands of fucking times…

Talk about laying out the welcome mat for nature.

The ancient Chinese curse about may you live in interesting times, interesting times are chaotic times, and quite truthfully, lots of different but similar ish from the outside raghead terr-rist groups squabbling over some illusion about divine destiny is much more natural than large monocultural violent incidents such as we have seen lately, USA vs anyone and anything, save for about two years in its entire existence, hell, a lesson learned well from ye olde ingerland that one…

Rome went the same way.

Russia, frankly, is also (as well as the US) on its last gasp, a period of remission before the final and fatal systemic organ failure and death.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2658888/China-lags-UK-areas-Premier-Li-Keqiang-arrives-London-vow-tackle-misperceptions-Beijing.html

He may well be right, the Chinese have always been a rather loosely knit and unmanageable rabble, historically speaking, in the language of this blog post, more chaotic and less mono-cultural, even though the slanty eyed fuckers all look the same to the white man, fnaar fnaar.

There are three Chinese students living across the road from me in shared university accommodations, them all slanty eyed fuckers so stick em all together, they will like that… actually TALK to the cunts though and it is more like putting a German, and Italian and an Englishman, who all just happened to speak the same language, in one house…. they more or less get on, but there is no fucking way any of them actually identify with either of the others.

Y’all also can’t under-estimate the resilience of a culture that has a cuisine that basically considers anything, anything at all, that was once living, to be an ingredient in food.

No, the illiminati are PLANNING world war three.

War, the equivalent of a drunk saying “watch this” thinking he can predict the outcome and consequences…. and yet, there is a group of highly intelligent and powerful people who think they can control this?

Oxymoronic.

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