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 Now online (1)dariusgriffin ...and 219 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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i fell asleep too. it was a strategic moment, you see anyways, the deeper problem there is another deeper problem everywhere: your thing hurts, the doctor fixes it for you like a mechanic, life goes on. right? not always. i've lost count of the times people have spouted the most idiotic truism i've ever heard: "if my car is broken, i take it to a mechanic." you are not a car. you are a person. cars can be replaced. you cannot. a car's self-awareness is limited to putting on an LED when you're 500 miles away from when some engineer figured it might need an oil change. you can look inside yourself and figure out what's going on in a way a doctor never can. why do you think they spend an hour poking at you and moving your arm and hitting precise spots with those doctor triangles they all wield? because they don't have xray fucking eyes, they are just another human like you. but this is the culture of the almighty dollar and people have this implicit assumption that when you sign a check, shit happens, end of story. doctor, fix this. now. no? i'm finding another doctor on yelp who will. i imagine that is where those fucking ads start to work. people need to take ownership of their health and maintain a kernel of healthy skepticism. you live with your body/mind your whole life; a doctor sees it for a few hours a month. one of hundreds to him. he's very good at getting you through that office like a greased poop and using soothing words but he's apt to miss something or make a mistake here and there... |
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your article on ads says: "DTC ads give viewers the illusion that they can and should be their own doctor; they are designed to make viewers believe that they can and should prescribe for themselves. By fostering a false sense of demand for prescription-required drugs, DTC drug ads undermine the real knowledge that doctors should have when, in consultation with the patient, a treatment plan is established." this is both correct and bullshit all at once. pfizer and other kraken are not thick; they know DTC ads have a bad rap. so, for years, they have been "advertising" to doctors as well: call 'em up. send 'em free samples. send 'em a pamphlet display for the office. send 'em prozac (tm) branded legos for their pediatric patients to play with in the waiting room. find the ones that are selling the most product and say "hey, we have this fat check here, care to give a luncheon speech promoting our shit to a whole room full of doctors?" don't muddle it up: you can't be your own doctor, but blind faith in them can run you into the ground just as easily. |
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i watched some extremely mediocre movie on tv staring marky mark whalberg a week or so ago. i tuned in during the middle of it. at first, i thought it was about the JFK assassination; mark whalberg was playing lee harvey oswald. the details were syncing up nicely for this presumption... until i saw someone using a modern computer. then i realized that was just the tone they wanted to set. the most memorable part of it to me was when he cornered boris the blade from snatch in his log cabin after killing all of his dudes and they have a heart to heart. marky mark wants to know who sprays those chemtrails. who fixes the election. boris the blade delivers the single best moment in the movie: dude, it's no one person. it's a whole lot of 'em. the culprit is human weakness. there is a mutual culture of payola and greed; it is implicit and unspoken. anyone who betrays the payola culture and breaks ranks; talks; tries to blow the whistle.... gets julius ceasered real fast. then the movie goes back to being shit. boris the blade shoots himself, marky mark clears his name and then promptly goes around shooting senators despite what boris told him. then the movie ends without exploring what happened after he capped the senator. should have ended with marky mark taking lead to the aorta right after boris checked out |
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silly marky mark -- you can't cure human weakness with a gun. only arnold schwarzenegger going vegan will save humanity |
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Yes for some reason i cant imagine that #Clinton knows how to cry, i bet Trump does after a few shots of whisky |
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Marky Mark is an extremely poo actor, hollywood is the place you fail upwards from the looks of things, he has made a career from being as charismatic as a shop window mannequin exhibt A: |
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is totally unrelated but pretty much the same thing. |
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if you're keeping track of my nonsense, you'll know i can't stand when my socks are not on properly. then i'll be at a meeting for work and someone's giving a powerpoint and all i can think of is my sock is on wrong. my sock is on wrong. now i am unable to sit still. now i am increasingly likely to divert the meeting into improv comedy. taking notes; here. next time this happens i am just going to take my shoe off; fuck it all. i don't care how important the meeting is, i'm commiting to this blind. it'll be an experiment, but really, it's satisfying to tell the whole situation to fuck off, just for once. |
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how does it happen? i sleep like a boulder atop a hill. takes quite a bit to get me rolling; fall asleep. insomnia. but once it does happen, i am unstoppable. i hate 9-5 life, because i'm always up too late and then sleep in too late. then i'm doing six things at once, in a rush. the sock goes on wrong. i am in a mild panic and do not notice. the wave of relief when i get to my desk a mere five minutes late is one of the highlights of my day; the sock is still not on my radar. but then it's 11pm tuesday and that's when we have some tiresome meeting that everyone has to go to and no one really cares about. five or ten minutes in my brain is wandering, and i make first contact with the sock situation. then it consumes my reality until i can escape the meeting and get back to programming. |
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i wonder if a*nold schw*rzenigger has dese m*ments |
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coolio i was just gambling on you referring to that movie. i don't know soul calibre. i recommend Warcraft anyway. it's cool lore, imo |
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warcraft II was fantastic. why go back in time to warcraft I? i'm waiting for the tetris movie, myself. |
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beck's sock was on wrong while he was on mtv, being interviewed by thurston moore. not only does he not not take his shoe off, he casts it away a with raw bolt of frustration and contempt. i imagine his drugged-out train of thought like this: "my sock is wrong. i had no plans to throw this boot, but my sock is wrong, my sock is wrong, my sock is wrong, thurston is asking me stupid fucking questions, fuck this shit, fuck fuck FUCK THIS MUTHERFUCKIN' BOOT; geronimo" |
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i asked myself why i police myself so like that in the first place, and i answered myself with this: if i don't, i'll be taking my shoe off every tuesday at 11:15. i'll drive people mad popping the disks in my back on my wheelie chair (and about 9000 other things like this). if i did in an office what i do alone, everyone would hate me. so i torture myself, i note what seems to bother people and turn purple waiting for them to piss off so i can let it out. occasionally i burn out on it and let it all go whenever. i typically regret this within about 48 hours |
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the boot was a bold move. beck's trailblazing work in the field of obnoxious personal behavior is changing the world as we speak. "calm down, vice precedent of whatever man; it's not like i'm throwing a boot. christ, i'm sneaking this sock adjustment out like a fart." i figure it should be commonplace to fix your sock at a meeting around the year beck needs a liver transplant. |
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the sock misalignment is just my go-to mascot for this madness. it's acute but rare. most days i'm just fighting off the low thrum of pressure to indulge myself and begin drawing mushroom phone doodles in my notebook. no one ever calls you out on this, but it is definitely noticed if you go past a point. people are such twats. why can't i draw? because it looks like i'm not paying attention. but i am. let me draw. ask me what you just said; i heard it. ask me what my favorite powerpoint slide was; i glance up when you change it. i actually soak up less when i sit there prim and proper, because i begin to zone out, and then i really am ignoring the meeting. but i look perfectly attentive. eventually the meeting is over, everyone stands up, i snap out of it; sneak a glance at someone's bullet point notes |
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at this point, i'm just indulging myself in being obnoxious. move over, v*gans, this thread is mine. i like most of what i've written here more than the code i've written today, and the code was pretty good. i know you don't care. be thankful you can hear me working the chair through a vertibrae squakeout as i wrote all this mad science bullshit. |
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*can't **european. |
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just top stop by the side of the road and make a rational point, if anyone has any consulting work i can do alone with my laptop, i'll give you better results than anyone you can trap in an office. C++/Qt, PHP, FFMpeg/MLT, and novelty javascripts. |
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that beck interview was funny, he was being a bit of a cunt but he was only 23, i liked that little box he had that made weird noises |
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it's called a tape recorder. it was a turn of the century technology |
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the whole interview is just so... sedated. the little bit of reflective quiet after beck says he feels like he's 60. i'm not sure if it's drugs or if everything just moves a lot faster in current times. the compulsive archivalist in me is upset that so much gets lost. telecine was not designed for longevity and most of everything that aired in the 50s is already gone or on the way out, unless the nearest intelligent civilization is picking up Leave It To Beaver on their radio telescopes. old VHS tapes are next. probably the best thing i got for christmas was a high-end VCR, the sort i would have killed for when i was twelve. the same shit TV studios use(d). and what do i find? these tapes are definitely worse than last time i looked at 'em, despite VCR being a massive upstep and garbling them less. |
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that's lovely. "This is going to provide a sense of the rhythm of news stories" exactly. i pirated mellow gold in 2006 or so. i liked it then, and i like it now. and here's beck, pretty much as he was when he made it. the album was over a decade old by the time i got to it; i had zero context. it's fun to wire some new neurons into it all. |
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the way people in offices let you know they've been watching you draw in your notebook is to stop the meeting and ask you a trivial question about the meeting's topic, just like a schoolteacher. trying to catch you off-guard. the sort of people that do this have worked Very Hard To Get Where They Are and are super proud to be a project manager or some bullshit. on some levels, i think my distant attitude is alarming to them. the whiff of rebellion i can't entirely bottle up, leaking out, letting them know that i have very little respect for them, even if i do what i'm told. how can my work not be sloppy if i draw during meetings? clearly, i am not up on the details, and they must harass me on them. pick some irrelevant UI geegaw and declare it is essential and ask me about the status of it every day. i don't consistantly try to interfere in their reality, and i resent their attack on mine. i was happy working in offices for many years, but at a certain point it felt like watching the same movie over and over again and i began drawing during meetings a hell of a lot more. |
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am i up on the details? yes. really, the details are up on me. haunt me. more than once i have been lying awake in bed, thinking about work, realizing something is wrong, then getting up to take care of it. once i had this horrible nagging feeling that i literally missed a single character, and tore myself out of bed for it to find that i was absolutely correct; fixed it before anyone hit it. meanwhile, the pieces of shit giving me grief about the details never see these moments. they go to bed early, sleep like a log, get up early, go jogging, and then show up at work energized and ready to ask me if i've fixed the status bar yet. they never actually sit down and look at the code i write; they evaluate it solely on results: does it work, is it on time? here i do just as well as anyone else. after ages of harassing me the thing works, it's on time, and they congratulate themselves and think, "EpicMegatrax would be a mess without me! I really contributed to the bottom line!" eat my shit. |
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i feel compelled to add that most people in offices are solidly alright, and a few are fantastic. i have had plenty of great managers; one or two have even become like older brothers to me. i've watched a boss take two guys that hated each other and essentially trick them both into cooperating; shrewd brilliance. but with the twats i've described, it's one of those things where there's almost always one in every office. as the employee headcount grows the company gathers exponentially more of these people -- in a small company, anyone who's useless is much more easily spotted. but, even in small companies, there's always one. |
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i was mulling it over and fact-checking myself a bit: really? always? and then i ran through every company i've ever worked for and realized: yes, always. the best jobs, it took me a moment, but then i found the one. the difference is the guy who was That Guy at the best jobs had enough redeeming qualities to take the edge of contempt off. like, one was a chatty old irish drunk. he was just as up in my shit as all the others, but he was funny and charming in a way none of the others were. most gigs, though, i didn't have to think very hard before someone (often multiple) people came to mind. |
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now i'm coming up with stuff i missed, but it only deepens my convincination on the issue. the gig with the irish drunk was a consulting thing... they had me back a year or two later to do a few other things, and in my absence they had fired the chatty irish drunk and hired a guy who looked a lot like mark whalberg to be That Guy. he was neither funny nor charming; he was dour and serious. he was extremely short and he drove a giant mercedes van and had a pair of giant hounds to go with it. serious napoleon complex. i haven't kept in touch since that stint but i'm not sure i want to. |
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the owner of the company was a dead ringer for rudi juliani, except way smarter. whenever he was happy with his worker bees he would declare a "beer friday," but one would get the impression that irish guy misread it as "beers friday." his whalbergian replacement sipped half a beer with a rainy scowl, and i'm sure the owner noticed this, and felt far better at the resource management going on in his house. part of me says i'm already going into too much detail, but a larger part of me says i never want to work there again (or anywhere like it), and fuck it. ain't gotta work for no soul-sucking jerk. gonna take it all beck |
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epic i might have found your house on the internet |
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i don't have a house on the internet, i have a xen vps. |
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so, yeah, tldr, i find offices incredibly suffocating because any display of weirdness and personality is relentlessly attacked by busybody twats like antibodies swarming a foreign microbe. |
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i always like the idea of cubicles, we dont really have them much over here |
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cubicles are shit. the indian guy on one side smells like farts and curry, the lady on the other side is always on the phone. people walk by every three seconds and quite regularly decide to bother simply because you're right there. with an office, you can close the door and get some work done. i mean, that's how it is if you code for a living, anyways. i imagine sales guys do a bit better with 'em. one thing i've always wanted to do, though, is rent a small office for myself, and then just use the dozen desks and cubes for different zones of fings i'm fussing with. it's not a bad environment once you empty all the monkey robots out of it |
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p.s. you're both right and wrong with that series of manic junk house pics. mess stresses me out. literally, directly. the visual noise is more stuff for my brain to handle. rooms exploding with stuff are overwhelming and i get nothing done. it was only around 2012 that i noticed this, though, and began cleaning it all up. things were just about done, all neat and tidy, then my life exploded in 2014. most of my stuff is currently in storage lockers and i am living a pretty spartan life right now. but, yeah, in 2009, i drank lots of vodka and my duplex looked like some towelhead suicide bomber walked into a surplus electronics store. |
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i figure once we hit page three i'll tap out on talking through my personal problems on a public internet message board, and find something else snarky to say about veganism. you know, just to be a good sport |
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I had to look up duplex, do you neighbours know you are into electronics and weird music |
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towards the end of the year's lease in 2009 the duplex experienced the great deluge. i have some videos of my ex and i making paper boats and floating them around the three inches of standing water in the kitchen that i might re-upload eventually. the landlord was (i shit you not) an iranian nuclear physicist. while that seems a bit thick, more standard was his immense cheapness; never doing shit for the place. if the foundation of the house had seen any maintenence ever it wouldn't have been nearly as bad. it was kind of fun of first but by the third day it was a deeply miserable experience and i resorted to getting profoundly wasted until it cleared up. then we moved. i've toyed with the idea of ringing the guy up and moving back there -- it was fucking cheap -- but that seems like bad juju. an incredibly vintage yugo forum post in which i transcribed another incident at the same residence. |
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ok, no, it was 2010. my memory is pretty good, but part of why i like writing all this crap on the internet is that i can pull it all up for reference years later. |
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yes that is handy writing copiously |
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I answered the door in my long johns to get my bleep order, this time though it wasn't the normal bloke Justin who looks like a cro magnon, but a quite attractive young postwoman, |
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work out a shitload, grow to relish answering the door in minimal clothing. worked for me |
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I did use to lift weights and had a quite muscly physic then one day I thought I cant be bothered as I wasn't on the pull being in e long term relationship, I suppose it is good for your self esteem. |
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pretty much, my metabolish took a dump around 2011. we've talked about this before. i was a bit overweight for most of my life, but it didn't take much of being properly fat before i got fed up with it and changed my ways. then about what you'd expect, two years of miserable slogging, it finally starts to pay off. now it is but one facet of my compulsively detailed narcissism. casual references to it on the internet; taking deliveries in boxer briefs. fuck me, i'm glad i made that switch. boxers and briefs? genius. where has this been all my life |
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yes when you catch yourself casually gurning into a mirror you know then you have gone to far and order a pizze |
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