Social networking

This morning I was reading an interesting article on Sydney Morning Herald about a recent trend in people refusing to use facebook, twitter and all the other equally useless social media wankfests. As my close friends and family can attest, I started this trend years ago. Social networking is a waste of time, effort and is a virtual wedge for preventing any meaningful form of physical human interaction. It is a monopolistic,self involved,egotistical, shameless outlet for incomprehensible dribble. Where Self promotion is king.

Millions of people sharing jack shit. Tweeting about every sandwich they eat, posting yet more crap to yet more people.

It's the age old parable of data vs knowledge. Data has no inherent value. It is just data. Social networking generates loads of it. But without any inherent value it might as well be random binary datum.

After all, it's just another fad. No business applications that are anything new or useful. It's a pimply faced teens veritable wet dream, but devoid of any long term usefulness.

I'll stick with my old school blog mentality thank you very much. I have plenty of constructive ways to waste time (yes i know that's an oxymoron) without participating in a big giant ego stroking social orgy.

Join the revolution and cast off the pinko social(ist) networking hyperium. come back to the real world.

Of course I know noone is reading this, your all too busy friending other cretans on twitbook or facespace.

Just you wait, I'll dance on their grave. And I'll laugh, laugh I tells you.

That is all. We mow return to your regular programming.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Untitled

As per usual, my evening commute home gives my brain time to switch into a lower gear, the more distance I put between myself and the commerce centric white noise of work, the more I unwind.

Gone are is the daily pursuit of some semblance of order, of schedules, tasks, organization and multitude of communications. Replaced by the quiet solitude of a clear mind, accompanied by the beat of my own heart, and the stirring of of creative thought.

I pity the poor souls who march to the incessant beat of omnipresent engagement with work. Unable to escape it's grasp to steal a few precious moments of peace.

As the train rumbles onwards, my minds drifts, music twinges happy recollections and spurs further meanderings. Time retreats , replaced by more spurious realisations of the constructs of time and place. And then, almost inexplicably the journey is at once complete, yet also beginning anew.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Deciphering Appliance Icons

I'm not talking about computer icons here - but the indecipherable icons used by appliance manufacturers the world over. Especially European appliance who tout their "design" excellence - which generally translates into the inability to use them. Hell they look good though.



Came in to work this morning feeling pretty chipper. Hell, its friday and I'm in a rare good mood. Saunter up to the coffee machine (one of those stainless steel automated euro thingamees - plastered with "Design Award 2009" Stickers - hell those awards were probably made up by the magnificent bastards in their marketing cesspool). I whack my cup on the machine - select the desired strength (one notch down from "Cornholio" Strength) - And hit the button (the give me coffee now button.



The machine does its usual clicking and whirring then stops - and some weird looking light starts blinking. It looks strangely like two amoebas duelling with salad forks while its snowing all around them. By now, my lack of coffee has dropped my mood from good - to moderate and I'm a little bit miffed. After several attempts at percussive maintenance (I smacked it around a couple of times at various angles) - I had to resort to reading the manual. Fuck - I really need a coffee. After 5 minutes of navigating through the various obscure languages - I find english. OK - so its out of beans. Ok, I can deal with that.



Thank god we have spare coffee otherwise I might have started looking for a shotgun at this point. OK, fill the pissy little compartment at the top of the machine with beans (damn they smell good) - its a grind called Cafe Exotica. With a sensual name like that it outa be good. But I digress. Ok - hit the "give me a fucking coffee now you stupid machine" button again..Whir Click Whir. More fucking lights!!!



The ameobas are still lit up like a little chrismas tree but now I have an exclamation mark. WTF. So I figure I fucked up with the beans somehow. Even though its like the simplest task in the world. More percussive maintenance, few attempts at swearing at it. No dice. Ok - back to the manual. Apparently, Amoebas and Exclamation mark means something far different. It means the little tray at the back that holds the coffee remains/corpses is full. At this point I'm suprised such a tray exists as I haven't emptied it in over a year. Oh well, first time for anything. I tip the disgusting contents out into the nearest recepticle. And try again.



FUCK! Ameobas are gone - the big mofo exclamation mark defiantly remains. At this point I am about ready to teach this machine a lesson. Sure its an ininimate object and can't feel pain - but I don't care. I need coffee, and this fucking piece of meta and euro shit is testing my patience.



Yet again I attempt to decipher to holy writings of the euro coffee maker gods. Ok - exclamation mark without duelling ameobas in a snowstorm means the water is empty. At this point I consider pehas adding something with a little more kick than water, as my day has rapidly deteriorated. I resist the urge, booze is best straight up anyhow (might clean the inner workings of the machine tho...wonder if thats in the service manual). I fill up the water..and press the "give me coffee or you will be smashed into a million pieces" button - huzzah! Success! Ah crap - milk is out of date. Fuck it - at this point I don't care.