#4 in an occasional series.
Dilbert today sums it up pretty well. Not that all my managers were bad – far from it, most were excellent, but there were a few around that I thought fit this particular glove…

Reflections on life at “De Witte Wand”…
#4 in an occasional series.
Dilbert today sums it up pretty well. Not that all my managers were bad – far from it, most were excellent, but there were a few around that I thought fit this particular glove…
Vincent Creelan over on his Eclectic Tardis Blog has a contemplative post describing a walk through a local landscape and his life.
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Yesterday was a marvellous day, bright sunshine, fresh breeze, a real sense of spring …and summer to come. The Cherry blossums are already fading and the Elder flower and Hawthorne blooms are showing. I went for a long…ish walk with my partner and his sister Claire around Scrabo Country Park at the top of the Ards peninsular. This is an area that has been inhabited for thousands of years, on the hill where Scrabo tower now stands, iron age mounds can be seen scattered around (what is now a golf course) and when they dug the foundations for the tower they found a hoard of coins from the Roman times. Also from that vantage point you can see right down the lough and could imagine the times when the Viking long boats appeared when they sacked the Abbeys along the coast from Portaferry right up to Greyabbey 12 centuries ago. The tower itself..a folly..was erected in 1856 in memory of a local titled Aristocrat who met an untimely death, built in his memory by friends and faithfull tennants…well nearly, lol, those were poor times(potato famine etc) and the grand design had to be somewhat tailored to meet the budget. Nonetheless it is an imposing structure which sits high on a hill visible for many miles, from its tower you can see to Belfast on one side, the Mourne Mountains on another and across to Scotland too.
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His description of the landscape reminded me very much of walking on the Isle of Man – all the echoes of previous societies and lives being etched in the lie of the land. And it might very well have been that the Viking long boats that he mentions came from the Isle of Man. It was in a strategic position in the middle of the Irish Sea. From there, the Vikings were very well-positioned to carry out rape and pillage on Ireland, Scotland Wales and England.
He goes on to reflect on the choices we make in life. He wonders what it would be like if he were able to go back and make different choices – the choices that he would make with the benefit of hindsight.
Well, I wonder – I have a very strong feeling that if I were able to do that, the "me" that is here now would not be the same "me" if I had made those different choices. While on one level I have the sense that I am still the person I was when I was 20 – just older and greyer – I wonder if that is really true. We are surely shaped by the decisions and experiences that we undergo all the time – and the individual that has resulted in me would be very different had I taken a different path through life. It’s like identical twins – they may start out as genetically identical specimens, but they end up as two distinct individuals as a result of their life experiences.
That title from an old Fats Waller song seemed appropriate for this site that determines just how big your ecological footprint is.
I’ll wager that you’re living beyond the planet’s means to sustain you (just like me).
An item from the Human Rights Watch organisation is a salutary reminder that millions of gay men and women are unfortunate enough to be born in countries where the mere fact of being gay brings the threat of punishment, prison or even death.
Sometimes I forget how lucky some of us are to be living in countries where a more enlightened attitude is enshrined in the law. As Harvey Fierstein said at the opening of the Gay Games in Amsterdam back in 1998:
"The journeys that we made by train, boat and plane to get to Amsterdam were short in comparison with the journeys in our souls to reach this place. We were carried here on the backs of the millions of gays and lesbians that went before us… some of whom paid for the struggle against prejudice with their very lifeblood."
And millions continue today in that struggle.
…Long live the Pope?
I do not feel any personal sadness whatsoever at the passing of this Pope. I’m afraid I never had much time for Karol Wojtyla. Yes, charisma he had in spades – his training as an actor clearly paid off. And he has had a major impact on reshaping the Catholic church. But alongside the scale in which is put such elements as his championship of the poor is the scale in which he refused to permit the use of condoms, thus ensuring the painful death of many thousands through AIDS.
As Terry Eagleton writes in the Guardian today: "The Pope goes to his eternal reward with those deaths on his hands. He was one of the greatest disasters for the Christian church since Charles Darwin."
In his address of the 10th January to the Diplomatic Corps of the Vatican, Pope Paul II stated that “the family is also threatened by legislation which at times directly challenge its natural structure, which is and must necessarily be that of a union between a man and a woman founded on marriage. The family […] must never be undermined by laws based on a narrow and unnatural vision of man". Sometimes I wonder just who had the narrow vision around here…
And yes, I am base enough to feel personally offended by him characterising my marriage as part of the "Ideology of Evil" that is threatening society (in the pages of his last book Memory and Identity). Little old moi? Part of the ideology of evil? Threatening society?
He built an extraordinary power base in his years as Pope; gathering around him, and appointing, cardinals who shared the same world view. Cardinals such as Joseph Ratzinger. I don’t happen to believe in any gods, but God help the Catholic church, and by osmosis, the rest of us, if Ratzinger becomes the next Pope.
Someone is threatening to eat his pet rabbit unless he receives $50,000 in donations by 30th June.
Amazingly, he (it’s bound to be a he – a woman would be much more subtle!) has already received nearly $20,000 in donations from complete suckers, er strangers, over the net.
I am torn between admiration for the bare-faced effrontery of the scheme and despair that there are people out there who are foolish enough to have sent him money – nearly $20,000 worth.
Update, April 4: I see he’s now got over $20,000. Sheesh!
I love the tautology in the title – it subtly hints at what you will see if you peruse the on-line catalogue. Yes, this is another collection of genuine material from the 1950s and 1960s from the man who gave us the Gallery of Regrettable Food.
There are some real classics in here. The American footballer pictured at home in his kitchen is perhaps one of fashion photography’s finest statements. It’s the perfect picture for a caption competition.
Reuters reports that Obersalzberg has reopened as a luxury retreat. This strikes me as just a trifle bit tacky this close to the second world war. Next target for the marketeers is Sadaam’s Baghdad Palace? You probably want a few centuries before it’s safe to consider places like this as a tourist draw. E.g. Chichen Itza.
Update: The Observer newpaper reviews the hotel.
Brilliant item in the Annals of Improbable Research today: Don’t Look, Don’t Tell.
These days, Carl Sagan’s polemic against a demon-haunted world seems to me, in my hours of darkest imaginings, to being more like a candle blowing in the wind, rather than a light in the dark…
As one of the book’s reviewers said: Carl, you are sorely missed.
#3 in an occasional series.
OK, I know it’s like shooting fish in a barrel, but what is it about marketing people? They clearly come from another planet from the one I live on. To illustrate the point, take the latest jewel from Microsoft’s Marketing Department: MSN.:Found. Note the weird punctuation in the title; note the "let’s be hip" feel; note the fact that none of these people are real; note that I’ve just been sick in a bucket.
Douglas Adams had the right idea about marketing departments.
The UK’s Guardian newspaper reports: “From the Royal Navy to The Simpsons, everyone is taking a line on gay marriage. Duncan Campbell looks at how US and UK film-makers are tackling the issue.”
The UK film is "Andrew and Jeremy Get Married", a documentary directed by Don Boyd (who also worked with Derek Jarman). I note that Jeremy (Jeremy Trafford) is also an ex-Shell man. I look forward to seeing the film.
Tying a couple of threads together, I’m currently reading the book containing the last diaries of Derek Jarman (Smiling in Slow Motion), which was published posthumously. The enormous humanity of the man – coupled with a complete refusal to suffer fools (and the establishment) gladly – shines through; despite the pain and suffering he was going through in his last years of life.
So reports Reuters about the pope’s new book. What a charming man he is. Excuse me while I go and turn the other cheek. No doubt his imminent successor will be cut from the same cloth.
I Sing the Body Electric is the title not only of a Walt Whitman poem, but also a wonderful short story by Ray Bradbury. The story concerns three children, whose father invests in a robot nanny to bring them up after their mother dies. The kicker is that at the end of their lives, when they enter their second childhood, the robot returns to look after them once more. It’s a story that has always affected me deeply, for reasons that I never could understand.
Today, I read about Japanese toymakers who are designing new dolls designed not for the young but for the lonely elderly — companions that can sleep next to them and offer caring words they may never hear otherwise.
Life imitates Art
Came across two stories today about Gays and the military services. First, today’s Guardian reports that the UK Navy is entering into a partnership with Stonewall and actively seeking gay recruits in the Pink Press: Navy’s new message: your country needs you, especially if you are gay. While this might seem quite shocking and the end of civilsation to some unreconstructed admirals in the British Navy, it’s old hat to the military (and police) services here in The Netherlands.
The second story concerns the first homosexual couple in the New People’s Army to be wed by the Communist Party of the Philippines. The Philippine Daily Enquirer carried the story earlier this month.
#2 in an occasional series.
Last week, the BBC broadcast the first episode of a series called The Apprentice. It will follow the fortunes of 14 applicants (seven men, seven women) who are all fighting for a single job with Alan Sugar, a well-known (and tough) British businessman. Each week, the applicants are split into two teams, and each week someone from the losing team will be eliminated from the competition. The programme’s format hails from America, where the businessman in question was Donald Trump.
At first I thought that I wouldn’t watch it, because I don’t care to see naked greed. However, I have to confess that within 10 minutes I was completely hooked, simply because the 14 individuals were all so appallingly mendacious. It became one of those shows that I watch through my fingers spread over my face.
But the thing that marked out the experience was the language used by the contestants. All the well-worn phrases of management-speak were there: "I like to lead from the front." "I like to think outside the box." "It’s most important that we work as a team." – This from the leader of the women’s team, who consistently undermined any attempt by her fellow team members to act as a team. She rapidly became the star of the show – the gulf between the homilies she trotted out and her every action was terrific (in all senses of the word) to see. I could have sworn that she had taken lessons from David Brent.
I’ll be there on the sofa for the rest of the series, alternately laughing and crying, and eternally grateful that I no longer have to rub shoulders on a daily basis with people like that.
Serendipity allows me to tie together a couple of threads today. In previous posts, I’ve referred separately to Estonian kitchen sink drama and Penguin biscuits. The wonderful Boing Boing points me towards an archive of television adverts produced for State TV in Estonia during the 1980s by Harry Egipt. He wrote, directed and edited these choice items.
Check out the advert for Pinguin (Penguin) ice cream. And you thought the advert for Cadbury’s Flake was blatant? And as for the advert for minced chicken (Kanahakkliha) – I’m sure it was responsible for the nightmare I had last night.