So I sit here at work, bored out of my skull. To the point where I've drawn all over the desk. But now I figure I'll get back to doing what I do well: whining.
Todays whine topic will be all these social sites. You know the ones: Facebook, Myspace, Bebo, etc. And my primary whine (read: psychotic hatred) is fairly simplistic, and something that millions of you out there will relate to.
Anyone else out there ever noticed that these sites seem to be a collection of feature-specific modules loosely tacked together will packing tape? It just seems to me that any time they add a new feature, update an existing one, or just feel like messing with stuff that aint broke, something else gets munched.
A few prime examples: I can no longer use Myspace, because apparently I need to be logged in to login... and last night, Facebook went balls-up on me and wouldn't let me post or comment.
And it's not limited to online, either.
So, finally sick of it all, I put it to you, my minions: surely someone in this day and age is capable of coding stuff that just works. Old-fashioned programming. Seems like a non-existant idea, nowadays.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Murdoch does it again
After waiting for some worthy news to come along, it finally has. Sure, I had to blow the dust off the keyboard, and wave off a few lurking spiders, but hey.
ANd yeah, sure, I could have joined the masses of bloggers, critics, and political commentators who have taken to the whole Obama peace prize thing, but no. I've got my opinin on that, but for now, I'll keep it to myself. In favour of a neat story I picked up from slashdot today. One that shows that even the filthy rich can act like utter idiots at times.
Anyone want to hazard a guess as to who our filthy rich subject is?
None other than Rupert Murdoch of course. Who else?
So yeah, he's currently the one standing up and decreeing himself the leader in world news, as we all know. And as wel all know, he's also the one pushing to make all the eNews you can get online a pay service. Old news, that. But today, Slashdot gave me pure gold.
It seems Murdoh, after years of acceptance and service, has decided that search engines, particularly Google, are stealing his news. That whole concept of linking to news stories is somehow meant to constitute theft. I don't exactly know what type of goblin logic was used in that decision, but hey.
So, where do we go from here... first off, how about pointing out the simple method of instructing search engine robots to not index the site. The concept of robots.txt has been around for many years now. Almost 2 decades, infact. If not more. Then of course, there are all those browser hits directed to the sites at no charge.
Hrmm... I wonder if Google and the likes should start charging Murdoch for all the visitors directed to his websites... you know - just have the P.A fire off an email asking for a blank cheque.
Of course, this entire scenario has the potential to become very nasty, and causing havoc for everyone. Imagine having to pay for every scrap of news. Or for every visit a search engine directs to your site. Ebil, ebil, ebil.
ANd yeah, sure, I could have joined the masses of bloggers, critics, and political commentators who have taken to the whole Obama peace prize thing, but no. I've got my opinin on that, but for now, I'll keep it to myself. In favour of a neat story I picked up from slashdot today. One that shows that even the filthy rich can act like utter idiots at times.
Anyone want to hazard a guess as to who our filthy rich subject is?
None other than Rupert Murdoch of course. Who else?
So yeah, he's currently the one standing up and decreeing himself the leader in world news, as we all know. And as wel all know, he's also the one pushing to make all the eNews you can get online a pay service. Old news, that. But today, Slashdot gave me pure gold.
It seems Murdoh, after years of acceptance and service, has decided that search engines, particularly Google, are stealing his news. That whole concept of linking to news stories is somehow meant to constitute theft. I don't exactly know what type of goblin logic was used in that decision, but hey.
So, where do we go from here... first off, how about pointing out the simple method of instructing search engine robots to not index the site. The concept of robots.txt has been around for many years now. Almost 2 decades, infact. If not more. Then of course, there are all those browser hits directed to the sites at no charge.
Hrmm... I wonder if Google and the likes should start charging Murdoch for all the visitors directed to his websites... you know - just have the P.A fire off an email asking for a blank cheque.
Of course, this entire scenario has the potential to become very nasty, and causing havoc for everyone. Imagine having to pay for every scrap of news. Or for every visit a search engine directs to your site. Ebil, ebil, ebil.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sued over Dolphins
Ahh my loyal minions, welcome back. I do apologise for my lack of posting lately, but things have been rather boringly rhetorical. However, I have a great one for you all, just to make up for it.
I'm sure that since you're all so riveted to my posts, you'll all remember (with amazing clarity) an earlier post regarding legal systems around the world, and how anyone can sue for almost any reason, regardless of fact.
Well, I was doing my usual snooping around, sniffing up the skirts of the assorted international news sites, and oh boy I came across yet another prime example of such ludicrousness. One that certainly gave me the glad-eye of epic proportions, in some weird and wacky, self-satisfied manner.
The short version of it is that some woman rocks on over to some zoo, slips on some wet concrete, and is now suing the zoo for their "reckless dolphins". Yeah, you heard me. Reckless dolphins. Or rather, dolphins that had been recklessly and willfully trained to splash water on the crowd.
After I finally got over my giggling-fit, I kickstarted the old cynical midget that lives in my head and set it to work dissecting the article that sat infront of me. After a few moments, thoughts began flooding into my head. More of that logic stuff that seems so lacking in todays world.
For instance, making a choice to visit, then subsequently making the choice to head over to the marine life area, where you see water all over the place, and then you make the choice to walk on that water? I didn't read anything in the lawsuit involving being forced by zoo staff to visit to the marine area.
And hey, while you're at it, why aren't you sueing the manufacturer of your shoes and/or the retailer that sold them to you for failing to provide decent grip in wet conditions?
Ohhh right, you're just striking out in that typical knee-jerk reaction to making a dick of yourself in public by tripping over on a flat surface. Sure, it was wet. Imagine that, the pathway right next to a fucken dolphin enclosure being wet. Hey, next time it rains, better get your lawyer on to sueing the weather, too.
Good luck on that, by the way.
I'm sure that since you're all so riveted to my posts, you'll all remember (with amazing clarity) an earlier post regarding legal systems around the world, and how anyone can sue for almost any reason, regardless of fact.
Well, I was doing my usual snooping around, sniffing up the skirts of the assorted international news sites, and oh boy I came across yet another prime example of such ludicrousness. One that certainly gave me the glad-eye of epic proportions, in some weird and wacky, self-satisfied manner.
The short version of it is that some woman rocks on over to some zoo, slips on some wet concrete, and is now suing the zoo for their "reckless dolphins". Yeah, you heard me. Reckless dolphins. Or rather, dolphins that had been recklessly and willfully trained to splash water on the crowd.
After I finally got over my giggling-fit, I kickstarted the old cynical midget that lives in my head and set it to work dissecting the article that sat infront of me. After a few moments, thoughts began flooding into my head. More of that logic stuff that seems so lacking in todays world.
For instance, making a choice to visit, then subsequently making the choice to head over to the marine life area, where you see water all over the place, and then you make the choice to walk on that water? I didn't read anything in the lawsuit involving being forced by zoo staff to visit to the marine area.
And hey, while you're at it, why aren't you sueing the manufacturer of your shoes and/or the retailer that sold them to you for failing to provide decent grip in wet conditions?
Ohhh right, you're just striking out in that typical knee-jerk reaction to making a dick of yourself in public by tripping over on a flat surface. Sure, it was wet. Imagine that, the pathway right next to a fucken dolphin enclosure being wet. Hey, next time it rains, better get your lawyer on to sueing the weather, too.
Good luck on that, by the way.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Too many Rings
So I'm getting really tired of media hype. More specifically, the emotive language used to make the stories sound all that much better... worse... whichever is required. Here down under, it seems reporters get paid by the syllable.
I was in the highway listeing to some news on the radio. It was one of those generic ultra-opinionated female reporters with a surname that resembles vaguely pronouncable line-noise. The default rhetoric was tumbling out of her mouth at speeds which would even impress television evangelists.
As is typical with my tormented beast of a mind, it came up with a weird connection. The reporter was going on about 'drug rings'. There seems to be far too many rings these days. Drug rings, terror rings, cartheft rings, etc. And I began to think that with the media pushing this title so much, young teens just starting out their life of crime probably feel somewhat proud to be a member of a 'ring'.
The next thought produced by my head cracked me up entirely, while simultaneously providing a perfect answer to minimise that sense of pride our budding crime syndicate n00bs might feel. What if we were to quit it with the whole 'ring' thing, and gay it up a bit? Get the old New Orleans Mardi Gras feel to it.
So, how proud would you feel if you were part of a 'drug bracelet'?
I was in the highway listeing to some news on the radio. It was one of those generic ultra-opinionated female reporters with a surname that resembles vaguely pronouncable line-noise. The default rhetoric was tumbling out of her mouth at speeds which would even impress television evangelists.
As is typical with my tormented beast of a mind, it came up with a weird connection. The reporter was going on about 'drug rings'. There seems to be far too many rings these days. Drug rings, terror rings, cartheft rings, etc. And I began to think that with the media pushing this title so much, young teens just starting out their life of crime probably feel somewhat proud to be a member of a 'ring'.
The next thought produced by my head cracked me up entirely, while simultaneously providing a perfect answer to minimise that sense of pride our budding crime syndicate n00bs might feel. What if we were to quit it with the whole 'ring' thing, and gay it up a bit? Get the old New Orleans Mardi Gras feel to it.
So, how proud would you feel if you were part of a 'drug bracelet'?
Monday, April 20, 2009
Say No To Superheroes
Ahhh yes, I'm back, and being such the generous digital malcontent I am, I come bearing gifts: A bit of a chuckle, with a dash of added what-the-fuck.
It comes to me via a breif mention on tonights episode of Good News Week - a great comedic show that airs here in Australia, of which I watch pretty much religiously. It ought to raise a few eyebrows.... and maybe some tempers too.
So it seems that superheroes are out of fashion. At least for many schools and preschools here down under. It seems to be becoming more and more common for books, comics, pictures, costumes, and other paraphernalia of superheroes and such likenesses to be banned from these fine educational faculties.
The reasoning behind it: it promotes rough behaviour and leads to firm beliefs in 'good guy bad guy' concepts.
One school here in Melbourne has taken this a step further and banned ALL commercial characters, including Walt Disney characters, and even The Wiggles - a TV and stage show aimed specifically at young children, teaching them about music, and utilising several child development theories. Yeah, I can see how that would be dangerous.
But all this got me thinking. And as you all know by now, this always spells trouble. I started wondering how those kids must feel. More specifically, how confused they must be. On one hand, we have the school banning any form of commercial character, telling them it's bad, and it'll make them go psycho. Then they go home and get those character-building lessons from the parents: the difference between good and bad actions/people/etc, believing in yourself and your ideals, and standing up for yourself.
Isn't it enough that some parents these days control every tiny aspect of their childrens lives - what they eat and drink, what they watch, what they read, who they play with, when they play, what they play at. And now, the schools are joining in with the all-time great national childhood mindfuck as well. Apparently, it's not enough that the schools teach them to think alike, act alike, and dress alike, but now begins the ultimate deterioration and eradication of anything fun.
And let us look a bit ahead, here. So we let some kids play as they will. They play a bit rough, they get the whole good guy bad guy superhero/nemesis jive going. And then what? We'd better watch out! They might learn some crazy notions that there are bad people out there in the world, and we can't have that. How ludicrous.
Because we all know this world, or rather this global society, this way of human nature as it has progressed thus far is such a wonderful concept of place and time to be in, to live in... with its rapes, murders, home invasions, thefts, and our unwavering obsessive focus on looking good, being thin and judging each other by the size of our bank accounts.
Just back off, already, and let the damn kids play. In this day and age, it'd be a good thing if kids would learn a few unseemly truths about the real world before their innocents vanishes and they have to endure it with the rest of us
It comes to me via a breif mention on tonights episode of Good News Week - a great comedic show that airs here in Australia, of which I watch pretty much religiously. It ought to raise a few eyebrows.... and maybe some tempers too.
So it seems that superheroes are out of fashion. At least for many schools and preschools here down under. It seems to be becoming more and more common for books, comics, pictures, costumes, and other paraphernalia of superheroes and such likenesses to be banned from these fine educational faculties.
The reasoning behind it: it promotes rough behaviour and leads to firm beliefs in 'good guy bad guy' concepts.
One school here in Melbourne has taken this a step further and banned ALL commercial characters, including Walt Disney characters, and even The Wiggles - a TV and stage show aimed specifically at young children, teaching them about music, and utilising several child development theories. Yeah, I can see how that would be dangerous.
But all this got me thinking. And as you all know by now, this always spells trouble. I started wondering how those kids must feel. More specifically, how confused they must be. On one hand, we have the school banning any form of commercial character, telling them it's bad, and it'll make them go psycho. Then they go home and get those character-building lessons from the parents: the difference between good and bad actions/people/etc, believing in yourself and your ideals, and standing up for yourself.
Isn't it enough that some parents these days control every tiny aspect of their childrens lives - what they eat and drink, what they watch, what they read, who they play with, when they play, what they play at. And now, the schools are joining in with the all-time great national childhood mindfuck as well. Apparently, it's not enough that the schools teach them to think alike, act alike, and dress alike, but now begins the ultimate deterioration and eradication of anything fun.
And let us look a bit ahead, here. So we let some kids play as they will. They play a bit rough, they get the whole good guy bad guy superhero/nemesis jive going. And then what? We'd better watch out! They might learn some crazy notions that there are bad people out there in the world, and we can't have that. How ludicrous.
Because we all know this world, or rather this global society, this way of human nature as it has progressed thus far is such a wonderful concept of place and time to be in, to live in... with its rapes, murders, home invasions, thefts, and our unwavering obsessive focus on looking good, being thin and judging each other by the size of our bank accounts.
Just back off, already, and let the damn kids play. In this day and age, it'd be a good thing if kids would learn a few unseemly truths about the real world before their innocents vanishes and they have to endure it with the rest of us
Monday, March 30, 2009
Global Yawning
So by now, we've all been subjected to the so-called Earth Hour. You know: that whole routine by which its said that if we all switch off our lights for an hour a year, all the climate problems will magically disappear.
Sure. Whatever you say, bucko.
Most of us are getting just a little tired of the same old hyperbole from every treehugger on the planet. It's all a tad rehearsed for my likings. Doubt me? Google shall enlighten you. Thousands of entries, every environmentalist and his dog all having their say on the internet, ironically using the same technology they claim ruins the world for everyone to spread their diatribes.
But the current favourite saying that crops up a few hundred times per conversation will be that we, as humankind, are shafting this planet for all it's worth, and we're going to utterly destroy this planet.
Now, if you listen long enough, and your senses dull enough, you might find yourself agreeing. In this scenario, the only cure is to get some Carlin down you. He was on to something when he unleashed his logic upon the naturephile-masses.
I'll quote the relevant section from one of his HBO shows:
Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet. Nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference. Difference. The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great. Been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what, a hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?
The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worldwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags, and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference? The planet...the planet...the planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE!
We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. A little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance.
It pretty much says it all, in my opinion. Now, if you've read this far without going into apoplexy, I'm impressed. And let me add that I'm not ignorant enough to beleive that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the planet. Things *are* pretty messed up. But I'm not closed-minded enough to beleive that once we're gone, life here will cease to exist, and all thanks to us. That won't happen until this star we live on dies, and implodes, creating yet another awesome cosmic display.
Put another way: The cynic in me beleives we are indeed fucked. The realist in me beleives it's too late to do anything about it. So you continue to bow down under the pressure, turn off your lights during Earth Hour, and brag about it to my coworkers the next day... on your radiation-emitting predominantly plastic cellphone, sitting on the freeway in your fossil-fuel-consuming vehicle in the morning traffic jams before finally making it into work where you'll sit at your energy-wasting computer under cheap cost-saving flourescent lights all day, and you'll not even notice that: you'll be too busy feeling good about yourself like a pretentious prick of epic proportions, for saving a couple of dozen watts worth of energy.
Sure. Whatever you say, bucko.
Most of us are getting just a little tired of the same old hyperbole from every treehugger on the planet. It's all a tad rehearsed for my likings. Doubt me? Google shall enlighten you. Thousands of entries, every environmentalist and his dog all having their say on the internet, ironically using the same technology they claim ruins the world for everyone to spread their diatribes.
But the current favourite saying that crops up a few hundred times per conversation will be that we, as humankind, are shafting this planet for all it's worth, and we're going to utterly destroy this planet.
Now, if you listen long enough, and your senses dull enough, you might find yourself agreeing. In this scenario, the only cure is to get some Carlin down you. He was on to something when he unleashed his logic upon the naturephile-masses.
I'll quote the relevant section from one of his HBO shows:
Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet. Nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference. Difference. The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great. Been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what, a hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?
The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worldwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags, and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference? The planet...the planet...the planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE!
We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. A little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance.
It pretty much says it all, in my opinion. Now, if you've read this far without going into apoplexy, I'm impressed. And let me add that I'm not ignorant enough to beleive that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the planet. Things *are* pretty messed up. But I'm not closed-minded enough to beleive that once we're gone, life here will cease to exist, and all thanks to us. That won't happen until this star we live on dies, and implodes, creating yet another awesome cosmic display.
Put another way: The cynic in me beleives we are indeed fucked. The realist in me beleives it's too late to do anything about it. So you continue to bow down under the pressure, turn off your lights during Earth Hour, and brag about it to my coworkers the next day... on your radiation-emitting predominantly plastic cellphone, sitting on the freeway in your fossil-fuel-consuming vehicle in the morning traffic jams before finally making it into work where you'll sit at your energy-wasting computer under cheap cost-saving flourescent lights all day, and you'll not even notice that: you'll be too busy feeling good about yourself like a pretentious prick of epic proportions, for saving a couple of dozen watts worth of energy.
Monday, March 23, 2009
He's in the Hall of Fame now? Oh christ...
Ok, so I was relaxing in an afternoon of slobberish television veiwing a few nights ago, and the inevitable shorts from the upcoming News came on. You know: where they blurt out seemingly random news titles in the short 10 second timeframe they are alotted by the broadcaster: "Turkeys talk! Ship Captain Eats Pitchfork! Barnacles With Large Penii!"
Normally, I'd immediately perform high-precision mental manoeuvers making me immune to such trash (AKA tumbling into a near-catatonic state where the only thing going through my mind is a dialtone). But this one was different. I'm not sure how on earth it happened, but a certain name jumped out at me, immediately grabbing my testicles, and thus my full undivided attention.
The name was Wayne Carey. You lot overseas probably have no clue who he is. Unless you live in Miami... but we'll get to that shortly. Summed up in two words: Primordial Dickhead.
To the shock of most of the nation, this twonk has been inducted into the AFL club's Hall of Fame. The Hall of bloody Fame...
What on earth for?
Ohhhh thats right! It probably had something to do with his extramarital affair with his then-best mate's wife, Kelli. Or perhaps the drug habits. Or maybe it was the accusations of him being tied to underword figure Jason Moran. Or just maybe the widely reported assault on Miami Police last year.
Yeah, the guy is obviously the perfect image of dicipline and self-control. Hey, since we're inducting aggressive, drug-ridden alcoholics into the Hall of Fame, why stop there. Let's get Ivan Milat up there, too. Or how about James Vlassakis. Both murderers certainly got enough airtime.
So I guess the ideal we hold up to kids here is: It's fine to get sloshed, bash figures of authority and skank onto your best mates wife, so long as you play a game for a living.
Normally, I'd immediately perform high-precision mental manoeuvers making me immune to such trash (AKA tumbling into a near-catatonic state where the only thing going through my mind is a dialtone). But this one was different. I'm not sure how on earth it happened, but a certain name jumped out at me, immediately grabbing my testicles, and thus my full undivided attention.
The name was Wayne Carey. You lot overseas probably have no clue who he is. Unless you live in Miami... but we'll get to that shortly. Summed up in two words: Primordial Dickhead.
To the shock of most of the nation, this twonk has been inducted into the AFL club's Hall of Fame. The Hall of bloody Fame...
What on earth for?
Ohhhh thats right! It probably had something to do with his extramarital affair with his then-best mate's wife, Kelli. Or perhaps the drug habits. Or maybe it was the accusations of him being tied to underword figure Jason Moran. Or just maybe the widely reported assault on Miami Police last year.
Yeah, the guy is obviously the perfect image of dicipline and self-control. Hey, since we're inducting aggressive, drug-ridden alcoholics into the Hall of Fame, why stop there. Let's get Ivan Milat up there, too. Or how about James Vlassakis. Both murderers certainly got enough airtime.
So I guess the ideal we hold up to kids here is: It's fine to get sloshed, bash figures of authority and skank onto your best mates wife, so long as you play a game for a living.
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