Work is weird.
Of course work is weird - it's work.
The current employer could not be anywhere near as weird as the previous one, but it has its own particular weirditees. Everything requires a process, including getting a computer and desk. Just because the 2437 form was filled out doesn't mean there's a computer or desk waiting: no one knows where the form goes or how the process works - only that most of the time it doesn't. It was decided I had the job at the beginning of December, and my January 2nd start date came and went, with no computer and no desk. It took an additional six weeks for the computer to arrive. I discovered that it wasn't mandatory to do your job here either, when my boss saw things undone and merrily breezed past them, as if this were normal (it was). After a number of years, this still astounds me. If there's one thing the Twilight Zone<tm> taught me, it was to do your job well and communicate progress. This turned out to be laughably unnecessary. I have the problem of all newbies: I do my work and expect the same from others. My coworkers just laugh at me (most people do) and tell me the job will eventually remove my soul so I'll be just like them (shudder). If someone asks for something that can't be done immediately, I communicate progress. They laugh, shake their heads, and say, "Newbie." I have requests that were made months ago. When I send reminders, they're promptly ignored. My employer is a parody of itself, like Congress.
- A nod to the draconian government of the UK, which just enacted the most sweeping snooping legislation in the entire world. Naturally there was barely a whimper from the Great Unwashed.
- Why do I care - I'm in the US. Because the UK is frequently a staging ground for the US. Rest assured, it's coming. -Ever vigilant.
- I'm passing this along, even though I know my people don't use iDevices. 12 iPhone security tips for iOS 12. I plan to use as many as I can.
- The world has taken a large step toward security by using HTTPS instead of HTTP to get to websites. In case you doubt the seriousness of this, important, secure businesses like banks use HTTPS. In case you're still not convinced, PornHub uses it too. To use it yourself, install your browser's version of the HTTPS Everywhere extension, which will only allow HTTPS connections unless the site doesn't support it. You won't have to do anything after installation.
Last night we saw one of those drug commercials with a 15 minute list of possible side effects. It was a cancer drug for post-menopausal women. My favorite warning of all time is "don't take this new med if you're allergic to it." If you experience death, call 1-800-LETS-SUE. The other warning was not to give it to anyone if they may be pregnant. I'm not a doctor (although I'm interested in gynecology and specialize in psych disorders), but post-menopausal women don't get pregnant. Even the alleged Immaculate Conception occurred before the lady in question was 40. Speaking of which, how can anybody be part of a religion which refers to 'without sex' as 'immaculate'?
How can anybody take seriously a blog that starts a paragraph with drugs, migrates to the Virgin Mary, then closes with a Christian sex question?
- If you're ever bored, go through the labels list for this blog. I think anybody thinking of reading ThermionicEmissions should look at them. It's a delightfully absurd hodgepodge of words, which will excite or completely put off a prospective reader.
A new study by Yale professor Cydney Dupree suggests that white Americans who hold liberal socio-political views use language that makes them appear less competent in an effort to get along with racial minorities. Yale. Education has also become a parody of itself. Missing is the black outrage because white liberal Americans think they're stupid.
Meanwhile, every department in which I worked had absolutely no trouble interacting with 'minorities.' We were a team full of minorities, including the rarest of them: women. All that matters is that you do your job well; that's where the difficulty interacting came in. We were either way ahead of our time or woefully behind.
- I will never forget the day the hiring manager came into our office and told us he needed to see more faces of color in our department. As he was finishing, he looked directly at me, as if he was expecting a witty retort. For some reason, perhaps naked fear of job-hunting, my mouth stayed shut. Little did I know, this event foreshadowed the profound stupidity that was to follow. WE NEED DIVERSITY! Why, are minorities better at IT? WE NEED DIVERSITY! What about hiring the best person for the job, regardless of anything else? WE NEED DIVERSITY!
- That particular job made me a pretty happy employee, because I could do my job the best way possible and still pull off goofiness in a way I became known for (and accepted!). While on a late night project, the head of HR asked if we'd like a beer. I told her I didn't drink. She looked at me in horror and said, "You mean you're like this without drugs or alcohol?" It was one of my finest moments.
- I discovered one of my coworkers was a cheerleader in high school. She told me not to tell anybody. Naturally I procured pom poms and followed her down the main hallway, shaking them, right past a managerial meeting. She turned red, the managers fell off their chairs, and I smiled. They left me alone because I did my job well.
- Another Red Moment came when I was under a desk, hooking up a computer. Someone at a nearby desk started a rant about Stupid IT never fixing anything. I popped up from under the desk and she turned shades of red her department had never seen. Her coworkers were in hysterics. She apologized at regular intervals.
Whether or not you consider it valid, people line up for Past Life Regression. Let us suspend disbelief and consider it for a bit.... everybody who comes out says they were a famous person in a prior life: Joan of Arc, Pope John Paul XVIIQ - CMM, or Atilla the Hun. If this is true, who picked up the trash? Who cooked the food? Who taught New Yorkers to add an 'r' to random words (brar, sawr)? After studying this for damn near fifteen seconds, I think I have the rhythm of the method. Let me translate:
- I was Napoleon: I was Napoleon Smith, the guy who fetched hyena meat and wiped Napoleon's ass for him
- I was a highly-decorated naval seaman: I was frightfully, obnoxiously, annoyingly gay and enjoyed seamen
- I was a famous obstetrician: I got a lot of women pregnant
- I was George Washington, the father of our nation: I got a lot of women pregnant
- I was a very early champion of women's rights: I got a lot of women pregnant and insisted on abortions
- I was JFK: I got a lot of women pregnant
- I was Thomas Crapper - inventor of the toilet: I was the guy who cleaned shit out of Rome's sewers
- I was a judge of early French cuisine: I was a vulture that only ate dead things
- I was a health pioneer, celebrated the world over with raised arms: I was a mosquito, carrying malaria
Careful what you wish for department:
Our dogs have always been small furry people. I wondered what it would be like to adopt a dog that was actually a dog. Yes, we got one. She defends the house by standing at the window and barking like a lunatic when someone is on her sidewalk. I watched her 'find' something, then dig a hole in the yard to go after it. I have only seen dogs dig in cartoons. Then I get dragged out when the door opened because there was a bird flying over her yard.
Thinking further, I prefer small furry people.
Things are going nicely in society's rapid descent to the place where the red guy with the horns is in charge. As proof, I submit this page, which describes a child being prepared for sex change surgery. Have I mentioned he's 6 and is in line for chemical castration at 8?
WTF?
Standard Disclaimer: I am not a doctor and know absolutely nothing about gender reassignment. Of course there's a however coming... However (I told you it was coming), it doesn't take a PhD (Piled High and Deep) to figure out that a 6 year old is not legally allowed to and is not capable of making this decision, Then there's another small issue: he hasn't hit puberty yet. If the
Here is where it truly devolves to Peak Stupid:
- Mom has changed his name to Luna and dresses him in female clothes
- Mom enrolled him in school as a female.
- Mom has support and financial backing
- There is a nasty custody battle
- (non-custodial) Dad, who seems relatively sane, is required to pay for this
- Dad has been accused of abuse for saying his son is male
- The 'debate' is being fought on social and religious issues.
Of course the plea is slanted (it's Dad asking for help), so we can be sure this isn't the full story. But I'm sure the main concept (sex change) is correct.
Fact: children under a certain age (16-18?) cannot have nose jobs for cosmetic reasons.
Announcement: today I identify as a 6 year old and demand to be treated as such. I'm enrolling in first grade and will sue if I am age-bullied. Hopefully I will not be the tallest kid in class - that's hard on kids. Since I'm so socially awkward, I won't bother the girls (or the boys, probably). Class Clown status is virtually assured, like the last time I was 6. If they give me a Chromebook, the class will get a presentation on security. If they give me a Macbook, I will spend the rest of the week in the principal's office. Ah, good times....
- Have you noticed the commercials for the products called "That's What I Call Music"? Inevitably it's not.
As Captain
Pithy emissions aside, the last few days have been rough and I felt a strange compulsion (different from my other strange compulsions) to say something (not again), as if saying something is going to make a difference. No, they haven't changed the medicine again.
A superstitious relative says death happens in threes.
[Rod Serling voice] A perfectly ordinary couple, going about their lives.
His mother goes into the hospital and passes in short order.
Immediately after the funeral, they got a call and drove three hours to say goodbye to her father. A few days prior they went to visit their neighbor, with end stage cancer, to say goodbye. He died several hours after they left. While putting together the shiva/wake for his mother, she received news that her father died.
If this were us, I'd start calling us the Angels of Death. People could pay us not to visit their loved ones. Or to visit their loved ones, depending on how they felt about them.
How sadly lucky these people were, to be able to say goodbye.
If they didn't get the chance, it would haunt them (sorry) for the rest of their lives. The message here is to value what you have. To never be in a position where you'll regret what you said or didn't say. Don't let friends and family be ignorant of your feelings for them. Before you leave mad, ask yourself how you'd feel if that was the last time you spoke to them. Remember the Big Picture. The only nice thing I can relate is the couple visiting their terminal neighbor brought him joy, possibly the last joy he experienced.
Say what you will, but we treasured each day with Marshall. When he left, we weren't burdened with 'we could have done better'. Unfortunately this doesn't stop grief - it just doesn't add to it. (he's talking about his dead dog again...)
We knew one of the three people well. We had the pleasure of meeting another, with whom I shared a hobby. One passing is more than enough.... three caused a serious ripple in reality. For the couple mentioned above... can you imagine? The only comfort seemed to be friends and loved ones showing up.
We have a lot of thinking to do. Maybe you do too. Maybe you already did.
Care to tell people what you came up with?
- Coming up next on ThermionicEmissions Television: Things I have pulled out of my foot.
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