January 14th 2004
Random poem
For no other reason than this little gem has just popped into my head, I give you the perfect poem on cricket...
I ran for a catch with the sun in my eyes sir,
Being sure at a snatch, I ran for a catch.
Now I wear a black patch and a nose such a size sir.
I ran for a catch with the sun in my eyes sir.
I don't remember who wrote it and an exhaustive web search (ie I googled the first line) doesn't reveal an author. I think it's a work of art along side that wonder...
Late last night I slew my wife,
stretched her on the parquet flooring.
I was loathed to take her life
But I had to stop her snoring.
I think they are by the same author.
I think I'll return to happy land now.
Comments (), Permalink, 17:30 CSTYou do surprise me
Via Bazz Paul (we're all grown up now, so I'm not Kenny and he's not Bazz although this being grown up thing isn't all it was cracked up to be), the blatantly guilty, doing the blatantly obvious. Would you look at that? A scouser robbing a bank. They are moving on in the world. I thought it was just homes and cars. This must be the new elite cosmopolitan scouser.
Anyway, you hear that? That is the sound of the phone not ringing off the hook. And the gentle hum of the computer not receiving any email relating to employment. Absolutely feckin' dismal isn't it? As I say, this being an adult isn't up to much really.
I'm only blogging because I like your robot. That's not true but I wanted to say it. I'm only blogging because I like my robot.
Comments (), Permalink, 15:15 CSTThe obvious and the cloaked
By now, everyone will know that Natzoid was up very late again talking to the Unpickled One. It's a shame that you can't make 6 figures talking to bloggers in Texas while doing some serious damage to a bottle of wine, 'cos we'd be rich and an affidavit of support would be absolutely no problem.
It's weird seeing yourself quoted. As the Unpickled One states, I told her that her accent wasn't "tragically Southern". I don't believe I said that. It sounds far too clever-clever for me to have come up with it. I must have ripped it from a film or book, but I can't think of where. Maybe it was an unconscious Streetcar Named Desire reference, you know, the whole Southern Belle thing. Who knows.
That was the obvious. Late phone calls to Texas. Now, we hurry along to the cloaked.
I noticed from my home-grown stats tracking software that someone from a .mil domain read virtually the whole of my archives this morning. The actual domain is, apparently, a proxy for all .mil computers so it could be anyone anywhere. While I am flattered/concerned* that someone would go to all that trouble, I would hope that it is just a passing interest. The last time I looked, I wasn't a threat to national security and indeed have done work for the US Navy in the past (a really cool guy called Wing Commander Ca**). In fact, I would say I am a definite asset to national security, being that I am firmly behind pre-emptive attacks on anything that may look like it is a threat.
Anyway, that's the cloaked piece. I'm off to [yawn] guess what? Yup. Trawl the jobs boards.
* - delete as applicable
Comments (), Permalink, 12:55 CSTJanuary 13th 2004
Those olden days
The rest of the world can condemn Oasis, but they can all feck right off. Stand by me. Nobody knows the way it's going to be. Maybe I can see. But don't you know the cold and and wind and rain don't know, they only seem to come and go away.
My boys. They may be daft but I'm with them. We know the same things. We lived the same dream.
Comments (), Permalink, 22:00 CSTBright idea for the day
As I was doing my daily trawl through the job boards, I happened upon a job that was with a start-up software company in Texas and it got me thinking of something I have very often subconsciously considered but never formulated any formal position on.
The gist of it goes as follows. There are people who can be trained to install and support complex operating systems and applications. Those people tend to end up working for big software companies such as Microsoft and Oracle. Then there are other people who don't need training; they instinctively know what to do and how a product needs to develop. These people typically work in start-up companies.
Now having experienced two start-up companies, I have no qualms in saying that the environment is far more condusive to things getting done efficiently than any major software organization is. The problem is that when you're a small company, it is difficult to find those people who instinctively understand software unless they are previously known to you.
What should exist, or if it does, it needs to advertize itself, is a service for hooking up people who are of the instinctive persuasion with start-up companies.
To be honest, even working in small <$200m public companies does not really thrill me. I like the adventure of bleeding-edge things that are changing rapidly. I like solving things that haven't been solved before, documented and shipped out on a CD for some non-intuitive bozo to refer to. I like looking at a situation and blending technologies to do a job. I like seeing a gap in a product's functionality and being able to specify a remedy.
Basically, I want my old pre-acquisition job back but in a new start-up. Preferably one whose exit strategy is not to sell to some publically quoted mid-cap pseudo-behemoth.
It's truly amazing what you learn when you do these things. For example, in the last start-up I worked for, we made three fundamental errors from a strategic (spit) perspective. The first one I recall vividly; when asked whether we wanted 'a lifestyle business' or 'total world domination' we unanimously and simultaneously drank our own bathwater and voted for the latter.
The second mistake was that we chased the golden egg. We targeted one of the world's largest cell phone manufacturers who had an obsession with measurement and chased them with wild abandon. Rather than maturing the product, we concentrated on one facet of a product that had hundreds. Ultimately what that meant was it took too long to get to market and by the time it was ready to go to market, the electronics industry had tanked.
The third and most costly mistake was when we faced the decision whether to sell the company or whether to dilute the shareholder value by taking more venture capital. VC's being VC's, they wanted their profits. Ergo we sold. I should have known at that point, based on previous experience, that I should have left then.
Quite possibly a fourth mistake was during the proposal of a MBO, we wrote such a convincing business plan that the owners of the product believed it and thought "great, what a good idea, we can do that."
So there you go, you learn from these things and they serve you well in your next start-up.
We still need a service that hooks up interested parties with start-up companies though. And I'll be the first to sign up. I don't want to return to the dreaded cube-scape that offends the eye for over eight hours a day.
</idealism>
Comments (), Permalink, 13:45 CSTJanuary 12th 2004
I don't know about you
But it's about this time of the night that I like to fantasize about what I really would like to be doing. A nice bit of keepy-up with a soccer ball in space, that sounds just the trick. I too could be the first Martian Ryan Giggs.
Look at all that sand. A multitude of uses. You could make CPUs out if it. You could bury your head in it. You could take along a sand wedge to practice. You could not bother and just boil your own head in frustration.
80 days and counting until yours truly ends up being shipped back to the UK in a cargo freighter and is barred from re-entry into the US for three years. Feck, feck and more feck.
Anyway, in some astonishing news, I had a vist from Scaryduck today, a living legend and winner of the Guardian's best blog. I am not worthy. If you haven't been over there, do it now.
More inane warbling tomorrow. I'm off to get the golf clubs out. Hopefully, I'll miss the kids this time.
Comments (), Permalink, 19:25 CSTPlay nicely boys
Apparently the US Air Force has accidentally dropped a bomb on East Yorkshire. I'm a bit disappointed in them. I mean I know Hull is fair game but personally I would have started with London or Liverpool first. Or maybe even Reading. Let's hope they sort their priorities out and act accordingly.
Comments (), Permalink, 13:40 CSTJanuary 11th 2004
Shoot me now Billy
I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to rant here. If you are a particularly sensitive soul or cannot stand criticism of people with good intentions, please skip this one; it will only offend.
My mother just called to inform me of some events in the UK. The conversation initially was along the lines of my dad having lost his temper because of something my ex-wife had done. No shit? She riled my dad? Like she did me for the duration of that apology of a marriage. You do surprise me. I bet my dad had every reason to get angry. The dialogue then went on to how my brother is too much like my father and a report that one night over Christmas, he had stood up, announced that the conversation 'was going nowhere' and had gone to bed. "He's so anti-social. He doesn't relate to anyone."
I can see the look on my brother's face as this happened. And I can visualise what he was thinking. And I know he was right no matter what the circumstances. If there is anyone in the world that I am guaranteed to side with in a decision of any sort, it's my brother. His logic is impeccable. And even though I might occasionally disagree with his actions when something surfaces, I always understand his thinking. He is a man who is both not to be messed with and who shows every virtue that I hold to be good.
Anyway, as my mother concluded her summation of all manner of day-to-day stories, she piped up "but then again, I don't suppose that you are interested seeing that you have much bigger problems, like that whole immigration and work thing."
Damn. You know I'd completely forgotten about those. There followed a half-hour conversation whereby I explained immigration law. To which the response was "Well XXXX went over there to marry her fiance and she's now a teacher."
Yes. She married a US national who met the criteria for an affidavit of support. "Well can't you get welfare?"
No. That is exactly the wrong thing to do. The whole point is that any reliance on the state is a major league no-no. This continued forever as I tried to explain to her the reality here. Eventually I gave up. Natzoid was in the background murdering dogs to keep her anger at bay. I was smoking at 50Hz and mentally about to explode.
She means well, but she doesn't understand at all. Do I sound like a teenager or what? She's trying to offer ideas, but the fact that her experience is limited to a 20 mile radius of Wigan means that any advice is pretty much irrelevant does not bode well when dealing with whatever the INS is called nowadays. I love her dearly but Jesus H God Damn Son of a Bitch Christ, anecdotal evidence does not an adjustment of status make. And I'm sure Tom Ridge is going to take my mother's word for what a nice boy I am.
Lordy, Lordy. As one of my mentors once said "Sympathy is only moderately useful."
How right he was.
Comments (), Permalink, 18:55 CSTToday's daily drivel
The mighty red army were held to a goalless draw at home to the Toon army. Alan "walking-stick" Shearer could have earned himself a penalty had he not emulated an Argentinian Prima Donna and vastly over-exagerated the consequences of his contact with Tim Howard. That was evened out by a Utd goal being disallowed after a scuffle in the box that was more like handbags at twenty paces. Still, the mighty reds remain top of the table, if only by a point.
Some good news. I have three strong job leads in MN and 1 in CA. Thanks go to Mopsa for two of those.
Natzoid has just accused me of having CJD (the human form of BSE). Apparently it starts with anxiety and depression and then you start getting random pains in your body. Psychoses develop and then you're history. And here was I thinking I had plain old Lupus. Good to know I'm just about to progress from being one stick short of a bundle to being quite a few sticks short of a bundle. In fact, a single stick probably cannot be called a bundle at all. Mooo. The Lord giveth sanity and those lovely big, tasty cows taketh it away. Moooooo.
Alright, I'm off to do some haddock flossing. I knew I had something important to do today and here I am, wasting the day away.
Comments (), Permalink, 15:25 CSTJanuary 10th 2004
That sinking feeling
I've had a lot of those moments recently, what with cash being nearly depleted and no sign of any incoming in the near future, but one has just hit me square between the eyes, started rabbit punching my ribs and then finished with a classic right hook, rendering me a useless heap of quivering and incohesive atoms. What was this horrendous thought? It's the fact that very shortly, I will be traveling to California and I, wait for it, won't have a laptop. I have never traveled without a laptop, not even when we went on our trip to South Dakota. In fact, it is over 12 years since I last didn't have a laptop. I've been missing an arm for three months and have only just noticed.
Now I'm depressed.
Comments (), Permalink, 14:10 CSTThe loonies at the EU
If this is to be believed, and I find it entirely believable, the EU is sliding even further down the economic drain than I previously thought. Not content with mandating the shape of bananas, inflicting monetary policy and a bizarre constitution, companies may be forced to consult with their workforce on what kind of teabags they stock. But cheer up, you will get to vote on the carpet color and demand Kleenex Velvet in the lavatories.
I find it incredible that while power is being devolved in the UK (there are calls for a Northern England regional forum), the EU sits on its collective arse and mandates all kinds of rules and regulations. I find the EU to be a bit like ISO certification; nice to have but entirely pointless, and very expensive. How many layers of government do people need? I would hate to count the various tiers that are between the average Britain and the acting president (non-capitalized out of disrespect) of the EU. Douglas Adams summed up the conundrum quite nicely; no person who strives for power should ever be given it.
Comments (), Permalink, 11:50 CSTJanuary 9th 2004
OK, gloves off
Having been semi-jocular for the last couple of days, I'm going to get all intense on you now. We, in the West, have some serious problems at the moment and they need to be dealt with.
Unlike most of you, I have witnessed first hand the death of manufacturing. When I moved here in 1999, I could see the start of a migration of the electronics industry from the West to Mexico. From Mexico, it has gone to Taiwan and now Taiwan is too expensive and it's in mainland China. Many of the companies that are US based literally upped and offed. They fired their semi-skilled workers in the West and moved their million dollar plus capital equipment to China. Or they auctioned it; at one point you could buy a $500,000 machine for about the cost of a weekend in Wisconsin. Everything tanked thereafter.
Moving production to Asia achieved what for Asia? Well, the quality of the products improved. But that is because Chinese and Taiwanese employers feed their employees. A certain huge American subcontractor that I know very well used to suffer from operators fainting on the job because they weren't paid enough to feed themselves adequately. The only slightly unpalletable bit of this fairytale is that the people in Asia, while being fed, are treated as Automatons.
Let me explain. Take a Malaysian girl who has children, and show her that she can earn $20 a month by moving away from her kids to work in China or Taiwan. Her working hours are 12 hours a day, seven days a week. She is housed in a company dormitory and takes an hour bus drive each way to get to her employment. She doesn't have any free time and she sends her earnings back to Malaysia. Who benefits from this process? Her kids? No - they are doomed to emulate their mother's hardship when they have families of their own. The girl? Nope - wrong again. She is a virtual prisoner, slaving in a sweat-shop. Don't get me wrong here, these people are far more attentive to detail than the US operators I've seen, but it is through fear. Their whole existence is dependent on their job.
Not unlike us you might say. We are all dependent on our jobs.
Yes, we are. And when we decide that we want electronic gadgets that are cheaper and cheaper each year, we look to Bestbuy and Radioshack. LCD panel for $250, no problem. Portable MP3 player for $100, fine. Hell, it's only electronics.
So what are we perpetuating here? Lower priced electronics? The credit industry? A perception that we live in good times? No. We are feeding the stock funds of already comfortable people. I own stocks. I follow the market. I would not enslave someone to increase my own personal net worth.
I have grave misgivings about how all this will work out. I have been a victim of the migration from West to East (the official reason for my termination was that resources were being redeployed from the US to China). We hunger for profits, we adjust to make those profits, we are royally screwed by our employers (who pride themselves on being ethical) and we sit here in quiet contemplation knowing full well that they couldn't manage a piss-up in a brewery.
Thankfully, I am not one to lay down.
I chose to live in America with my wife and no matter what your laws, I will win. Your passionate love for profits might be assuaged if you did things like I would.
Comments (), Permalink, 00:00 CSTI couldn't help it
I don't usually display the results of quizzes that pigeon-hole me as being the Ayatollah or Louise Brooks etc, but I had to show this one, just to annoy Steve because he is convinced I am a conservative clothed in a democrat's pelt. Via Les I present to you with which world leader I am...
Come to think of it, wasn't he dead by my age? And it does explain my sensational arrest last week.
Comments (), Permalink, 16:55 CSTBecause I am terminally lame
I have created one of those silly quizzes. It really does surprise me how little I know myself.
News from chez nous is that The Bean found a pair of scissors yesterday and decided to cut one side of her bangs off but leave enough there to make her look like something out of Oliver Twist. What on earth goes through their heads? "I have a pair of scissors and the commercials are on. Blues Clues is up next. Better be quick and cut off my hair before it starts. Man, that's a nice donkey."
And nothing says good morning to you like a friendly email from your lawyer reminding you that you are up shit-creek without a proverbial paddle. Thanks. I must do the same for them sometime. Forgive me while I just nip outside and commit suicide. See? You don't know me after all.
Comments (), Permalink, 12:30 CSTJanuary 8th 2004
Definitely not P.C.
For some reason, I started thinking about the English comic Viz a few minutes ago. Get on over there only if you are not easily offended. My personal favorites are Sid the Sexist and Roger Mellie, the man on the Telly. And then, just when I had gained control over my hysterics, I happen upon menwholooklikekennyrogers.com.
Guns don't kill people. Guys in sombreros who look like Kenny Rogers kill people Kenny.
Wise words indeed.
Comments (), Permalink, 17:20 CSTFeckin' Nora - it's an alien
It might not be intelligent, but it is life...
Makes you glad to be alive huh?
Comments (), Permalink, 14:35 CSTEeh by gum, can your belly touch your bum?
Only on a Tuesday.
I have no idea where that came from.
It has become apparent that I am slowly but surely becoming (more) insane and generally irresponsible. For example, I went to bed last night perfectly functional yet awoke with a severely painful right leg. How does one injur oneself while sleeping without something untoward happening (like a building falling on just your right leg, which is what it feels like)? It could have been Natzoid assaulting me but I'm pretty sure the baby was between her and I. Maybe it was the baby? I will interogate him shortly. I have the technique down to an art-form.
In a packed program tonight, I have some nudes news. One of the guys who used to nominally report to me (even though he was based in Skipton and was sent globe trotting by everyone except me) is now working for a company based out of Minneapolis and is currently here for training. Astonishingly (or not, as the case may be), the former VP of HR at my old employers is in their HR department there. And in a curious coincidence, they have a position open that is ideal for me. The intangible in this is how the former VP views me. We'll see.
What else was I going to burden you with? Ah yes. My mother, for those of you who don't know, is an artist (i.e. hippy peacenik who paints and draws). And an exhibition of her art has just opened at Leigh Library in Lancashire. You should all go see it. And buy art. Originals. Lots of it.
She is considering selling art through the internet and I have volunteered to help her out if she goes ahead. She also does portraits if you need one done. End of advertisement.
Time to load up on the caffeine. A single pint of tea is no way to start a day. If you're really bad, I might return later to continue to numb your senses and deny you the privilege of humor.
Comments (), Permalink, 13:15 CSTJanuary 7th 2004
Geek alert
Today I have surpassed myself in geekiness, becoming overjoyed at the fact that I can ditch Netscape altogether. I strongly object to Time Warner for the sole reason that they own AOL but had been forced into using Netscape as the best of a bad bunch. I had noticed that Netscape was using way too many resources and was suspecting a memory leak. No more! First the browser went in favor of Firebird. I tried to install Thunderbird as a mail client but the version of Redhat I use is too old. However today I discovered a gem. Sylpheed is a sweet little email and news reader that is really lightweight. And what's better is it took me all of a few minutes to migrate all my email and contacts over to it.
Geek heaven. I apologise again. Normal delusional clap-trap (be that stupid pictures or manic depression) will resume shortly. Thank you for choosing yatescentral.com for your thesis on maniacal geeks with Linux fixations. Piccard out.
Comments (), Permalink, 18:10 CSTOne last one and I'll stop, I promise
Someone is trying to tell us something.
This really is answering a lot of the big questions
Who next? Lord Lucan? OBL?
January 6th 2004
Apologies
I apologise profusely for the frequency with which I have spewed forth my drivel today. I will endeavor to curtail it. I put this sudden light humor down to something I ate so I am assuming it will pass in the next 24 hours. Then we will return to your usually scheduled Marvin the Paranoid Android programming.
In the meantime, I'm noticing hits from a certain company in Minneapolis whose name is a month of the year (and is loosely associated with my former employers in that they have some of my ex-colleagues) and that is located just off 494 in Bloomington. Could the perpetrator please own up and be vetted before I have to 403 the whole domain? Merci beaucoup mes enfants.
Comments (), Permalink, 19:55 CSTSorry to the US folk
I should explain what a Scouser is. From the OED:
Scouser [Skaü-sir]: One who hails from Liverpool in the Northwest of England.
1. One in posession of a nasal twang and incoherent language due to their birth in Liverpool, "He's just a poor little scouser, his feathers all tattered and torn, he makes me sick, so I'll hit him with a brick and now he won't sing anymore."
2. Master of car theft, petty crime and grevious bodily harm, "the bastard scouser stole it."
3. When wearing a suit and tie, a Scouser is defined as "the accused", "ey la-a, I didn't nick it, I found it in mi driveway."
4. One in possession of a shell suit, curly perm and Skol or Carlsberg Special Brew lager {vernacular}
5. One whose matrimonial ceremony is highlighted by the taking of the bride and groom's parents onto the dance floor to initiate the evening's fighting.
Plural: Scousers [Skaü-sirs]: the population of the largest open air prison in the UK, team of men wearing red shirts who play football badly and fall over blades of grass frequently insisting that the opposition are cruel and violent, losing side in a game of football.
Literary references: Keats - "In your Liverpool slums, you look through the dustbin for something to eat, find a dead rat and you think it's a treat, in your Liverpool slums. In your Liverpool slums, your mum's on the game and your dad's in the nick, you can't get a job 'cos you're too f***ing thick, in your Liverpool slums...etc."
Please ask if you need further information. I know, it's complicated. I can put it into layman's terms.
Comments (), Permalink, 18:50 CSTIncredible insights into the origins of life
This is barely believable.
Intriguing. Either the Scousers made it to Mars first or the Scousers were originally Martians. Wow. Whodda thunk it? Indeed is this the infamous Carlsberg Event Horizon colliding with the Sunny Delight particle causing the end of the Universe as we know it and the ensuing parallel universe in which Liverpool win some silver?
Comments (), Permalink, 17:20 CSTGood news
For Sasoozie
I've got a packet analyser intercepting the stream. I'll be the first to let you know of any other developments.
Comments (), Permalink, 17:00 CSTFeckin' Nora - it's David Bowie
Surprised the NASA bods missed this...
I know, I have too much time on my hands and an unhealthy habit of hacking NASA's mainframes. Bad Kenny.
Comments (), Permalink, 15:20 CSTConversations while job surfing
Natzoid: Am I a wetlands expert?
Kenny: No.
Natzoid: What about when the basement flooded?
Natzoid: Am I a Japanese cuisine expert?
Kenny: No.
Natzoid: But I've made a lot of different stuff.
Kenny: None of it was Japanese. You don't even like Sushi.
Natzoid: Man, this fund-raising job requires a Bachelor's degree. Should I just tell them I have a BA from Mishwauke?
Kenny: I wouldn't do that if I were you.
Natzoid: Well, what's the worst that can happen? They might check and find out it isn't true. At which point I could retort with "well it must be a typo - I'm not very detail oriented."
The worst of it is that having a Bachelors degree appears to be the bare minimum for scraping turkey poop into turkey-poop-to-electricity convertors. That's the thing with this education for all malarchy...every Tom, Dick and Harry goes around getting BScs and BAs, leaving those of us with them significant only in the fact that our names are different to the next man.
Comments (), Permalink, 14:30 CSTThe bells, the bells
Natzoid has mentioned before that her cell phone plays The Cure's Let's go to bed as a ring tone. Well at about 09:30 this morning, it rang. I didn't recognise the number so ignored it and went back to the eternal Job Search™ at the computer. Now my computer has a fan problem (it is going to give up the ghost at some point in the near future) so is exceptionally noisy and varies in its tone. Somewhere in the modulation in tone, I can hear Natzoid's ring tone. Constantly. In my head, there is a monophonic rendition of Let's go to bed playing incessantly. I've twice walked back to her phone fully convinced that it was ringing again. Is it wrong to hear fictional digital ringing in your head? Should I be concerned?
Ba da da da Ba da dah, Ba da da da Ba da dah.
Comments (), Permalink, 10:45 CSTJanuary 5th 2004
Ouch, my eyes
After yesterday's uncharacteristic levity, today was back to job trawling. Monster, CareerBuilder, Hotjobs and many an email to contacts that I have developed over the years. Applying for jobs is harder than having one. Twelve (yes, T-W-E-L-V-E) hours of trawling. How many did I apply to? Six (yes, S-I-X). In twelve (yes, T-W-E-L-V-E) hours. That, for those who are either too stupid or too lazy to work it out, equates to 2 hours per job lead. And how many were in Minnesota? One (yes, O-N-E). Thus far I have contacted about 40 industry colleagues, in both the SMT and software industries and I have two or three credible leads. Unbelievable. To be honest, I have had more leads through people that read this than I have through my esteemed ex-colleagues. So I thank you all.
In other news today, there pretty much wasn't any other news. Other than the fact that Steve may have been murdered by Marvin and Maynard in a piano dispute. Either that or the poor bugger had to take time out from blogging to earn a crust or file some frivolous lawsuit against an unsuspecting prey. Either way, it's been metaphorically quiet (Nic has been literally deafening - have you ever tried writing a cover letter to detail your fundamental net worth to a company while a baby claws at your leg screaming?).
It sounds like Zoe has just emptied a container of something somewhere so I'm off to survey the damage and find the insurance agent's number.
I would leave it there, but I feel I must comment on the fecking weather. With wind-chill, it is -40°F out there. Utterly dire. Maybe the fact that most jobs I am qualified for are based in CA, FL, NC or TX is not a bad thing. Perish the thought of my kids growing up used to this and me having to visit them once I've made my millions and moved to more temperate climes.
Comments (), Permalink, 19:35 CSTJanuary 4th 2004
Bin groovin'
As Rita, the BBC and the elitist scumbags have reported, there's a new OBL tape out. I was at the mall at 04:30 this morning, queuing to buy it. And I can tell you it was worth it. My reward for the wait was not virgins as far as the eye can see. It was a beautiful fusion of jazz, hip-hop, wanton rhetoric and frostbite. Separately I abhor them all but combined, they are a joy to behold. I'll give you my review; I literally haven't stopped spinning it since I got home.
Track 1: No Rest for the Wicked - a gutsy little number informing all the little OBLs that they should be getting jiggy with their governments. Careful dischords abound as the thrash saxophone duets with the reverb sitar. A classic for weddings, funerals and Bar Mitzvahs.
Track 2: Not a Pretty Girl - in which OBL breaks it down for us. The burkas are lauded as an implausibly high falsetto accompanies a rousing chorus of incoherent spitting. Deemed unconventional by some of the less liberal music press, this is sure to remain on Angry FM's play-list well into the next millenium.
Track 3: The Girl is Mine - a sensuous ballad detailing the sorrow OBL felt when long-term partner and chanteuse, Britney Spears informed him of her marriage to a Capitalist pig. The canto is so morbid, it is faintly reminiscent of an early Wayne Hussey. This one will have you dripping salty tears into your hip flask, as you camp outside the drive-through in Vegas on that cold park bench, reliving the day you too lost Britney.
Track 4: Two Tribes - OBL camps it up big time in this cover of Frankie Goes To Hollywood. As the cover shows, OBL is dressed in a genuine Liverpool shell suit. Faithful to the original, OBL has interspersed subliminal messaging predicting the end of the world due to the failure of communication between Presidents Reagan and Brezhnev. A point may be all you can score, but OBL is amassing them with fury.
Track 5: Not a Pretty Girl (Reprise) - OMG, OBL is OTT. The sorrow intensifies as he discovers that his first wife, Christina Aguelira has not only become a brunette but has gained 50 lbs overnight. And her burka has been ripped by a piercing that appeared just after his last release. A gutteral performance, heavily adjuncted by what are listed as wailing walls but sound, to the listener, like triangles with heavy portamento.
Track 6: If Rachmaninov had Read the Koran - a deeply philosophical piece decrying the fates that await good men. Tortured vocals accompany a cacophony of vintage lutes in a track that only the Chosen will appreciate. The devil really is in the detail of this most convoluted yet appealing melody.
Track 7: He Smells Sanctuary (Acoustic Version) - not the headbanger that you would expect OBL to finish with, but none the less a classic. A subtle yet rousing call to arms. We know the cry. OBL's hostility to Bono (as documented in the East/West gangsta feud) comes very much to the fore with the lyrics "We don't need no edumucation", a veiled Simpsons quote that both parodies the late Pink Floyd but leaves a no-nonsense message that infidels certainly should be watching their backs, especially at this time of year.
Overall, even despite the duration of about 20 minutes, I would give it a nine out of ten. Get down to your local CNN outlet store and give it a try. Then rip it to your MP3 player and get it up there on Kazaa...the world needs to hear this; it's important, a statement from the youth bewildered feckwits aged of today. No more hippy music for me. Joni Mitchell is evil. OBL be da bomb.
January 4th 2004
Weekend round-up
The highs and lows of English football are well known. Reading reports of Liverpool struggling against Yeovil is definitely high on my list of prefered activities. Unfortunately the story is spoiled by two goals late in the second half that mean Liverpool go into round 4 of the FA Cup, seemingly their only route into Europe next season. I know it's cheap and low, but scouse-bashing is about as fun as life gets at the moment.
Actually that last statement is not entirely true. Going mental with a Shop Vac is pretty entertaining too. Nic has a predeliction for onions. Don't ask me why. He opens the cupboard where they live and liberates his little round friends, leaving a nasty trail of onion peel from one end of the house to the other. Approximately thirty seconds after I had finished vacuuming his last liberation remnants yesterday, another bid for freedom was launched and thus the sad remains of recaptured round friends once again litter the kitchen floor. Such a sensitive kid.
As of 09:00 this morning, the temperature here in the permafrost was -17°C or 3°F for those of you who fool themselves into thinking that just because it's above 0° it isn't too cold. It's a good job I don't need to go anywhere today or I'm sure you people would be subject to the mother of all rants about the misery that is Minnesota in January.
Just to continue this mornings theme of entirely discontinuous rambling, Natzoid and Samantha have a serious addiction. The bloody Playstation. Sam ping-pongs between that and her computer SIMs, occasionally taking time out to generate dishes for me to wash and I caught Natzoid still playing Harry Potter at 05:30 this morning when I got up. If it weren't the only functioning DVD player in the house, it wouldn't be functional, if you get my drift.
Anyway, I suppose it's back to the job-boards and endless emailing as of tomorrow as the world starts again after the holidays. I may be back later depending on whether or not I recover from my bout of unemployment-induced brain-death.
Comments (), Permalink, 10:45 CSTJanuary 3rd 2004
My apologies
My Yahoo Instant Messenger for Luddites Linux apparently stopped working some time over Christmas. It appears that my connection settings need to be set to negotiate my firewall, which is daft seeing they were fine for 18 months. So if you sent me a message between Christmas and now, I have only just got it. For those of you who are now scrambling to open YIM, I will let you into a little secret. My YIM is andy_yates01. Those of you using AOL IM, you're SOL - get with the program and step away from the AOL. I also have andy_yates that I signed up for in about 1994 but by the time I got back around to using it (when the rest of the world discovered the internet), I had forgotten about that so use the 01 fella. Absolutely rivetting eh?
In an unprecedented catastrophe today, I managed to crash my Linux box (shock, horror). While trying to get the mouse wheel working, I messed up my XF86Config file and the damn thing needed a reboot. Twice before I twigged as to what I had done wrong. I can see the headlines now..."Man crashes infallible operating system, Windows users reboot to read headline." Speaking of headlines...
This is not me. I know, I'm lame. You don't have to tell me.
I'm off to beat myself to death with a celery stick.
Comments (), Permalink, 18:20 CSTJanuary 3rd 2004
Ugg
I'm not equipped for multi-tasking when I first wake up. My mind tends to focus on the raw essentials of life; the bathroom, a cup of tea and where are my damned cigarettes? So when morning hits me like a freight train, I tend not to be prepared in the classical sense.
Now Natzoid is definitely not a morning person at all. In fact some may argue that she is not an afternoon person either. She has a God-given ability to get up, fill the baby's bottle (and start him on his first gallon) and then go back to sleep. I however am awake from the first scream.
Rather than focus on what I want to be thinking about, I have three dogs running rabid, wanting to get outside, a three year old who is demanding oatmeal with menaces, a one year old who is intent on decoupling Natzoid's knitting and prone to picking up any glass/bowl/prohibited potentially lethal object. All at once. First thing in the damned morning.
And just to add some excitement, every Saturday morning my mother calls while I am in the middle of it all.
I've just finished my second pint of tea and am pretty sure that I am now suffering from post-traumatic stress. If I had a cat, I'd be kicking it right about now. And the pièce de resistance just to add a couple of notches onto my blood pressure is that the whole of the upstairs is thoroughly trashed again (not 48 hours after it was last sand-blasted).
Stop the world. I'm getting off.
Comments (), Permalink, 11:35 CSTJanuary 2nd 2004
Yikes
I'm in two minds. On the one hand, Steve has embarassed me no end by revealing a drink that I have never tried. On the other hand, I think I have had it with pan galactic gargle blasters, or as they are known on Earth, Natzoid's dirty martinis.
Last night, as I practiced my chipping with a plastic golf ball, a sand wedge, a small children's recliner and several of said gargle blasters, Natzoid's phone rang. As per usual, it was past the hour of eleven so it must be Melly. Foolishly, I tried to stay awake beyond the duration of the phone call but failed terribly (ref said gargle blasters).
This morning, as I tried to pretend that it wasn't morning and that the dogs could cross their legs until I felt like letting them out, Natzoid's cell phone rang again. It was the mechanics delivering the diagnosis on the truck. Thankfully, it was not the alternator. However remedial work will cost of the order of $500. Feck.
So we have the dilemma...real life really isn't up to much at the moment so a couple of gargle blasters of an evening (while chipping golf balls around the front room) are a much needed pain-killer. However, as Douglas Adams wisely pointed out, you really shouldn't drink them unless you are a twenty ton mega-elephant with bronchial pneumonia.
I await your collective wisdom.
Comments (), Permalink, 10:40 CSTJanuary 1st 2004
Nothing compares
It is a well known fact that nothing on this earth compares even remotely with a good pea and ham soup. It is the only form of soup that is worth the calories required to eat it. I don't often rave about food, and in fact have recently had an encounter with a very disappointing Double Gloucester cheese (I'll have to keep a look out for some Red Leicester) which has soured the whole eating experience for me. But can we hear a "damn"?
There are only two people on this earth who can do a pea and ham soup any justice. And I'm related to both of them. They rank equal top on the table of Gods of Pea and Ham soup. The missus uses a simmering technique which produces a mixture that transcends culinary ecstasy while my father uses a pressure cooker to mush it like a Mullah. Divine.
I am in hog heaven (no pun intended) and may well revert to the "live to eat" camp that I foreswore about 18 years ago.
And no, you can't have any. It's all mine.
Comments (), Permalink, 19:30 CSTHappy frickin' new year (part two)
Happy new year to you all.
On top of the car situation, I have awoke to the fact that there is no Premiership football on today. And we're dangerously low on milk which means that we all have to watch Nic like a hawk for fear of him losing it and doing a Hungerford with the water gun. Also, the local Enterprise car rental office is shut today so there's no chance of renting a car.
I ask you, what use is new years day with a homicidal one year old and without football and a functional vehicle?
Comments (), Permalink, 12:25 CST
