Shower Thoughts

It doesn't make sense to me that I can fill my text messages with tons of tiny pictures of smiley faces, foods, and animals, but I can't put my text in italics or bold.

The Mediocrity of White Privilege

Not my words, but my sentiment:

And fuck yes, this is what really pisses me off: the mediocrity of white privilege. It's not just illiterate toothless hillbillies who claim they're the master race, it's bigger than that: it's thoroughly average (and that's being generous) specimens like the entire Trump clan. They're not particularly smart, attractive, talented, imaginative, or any of the other calculi by which we usually award status via merit. They're completely, totally, obviously mediocre. I know we live in amateur hour, but America used to do at least a half-assed job of pretending to be a meritocracy. If the Trumps have been elevated to the highest circles of our culture, we can't ever again lay claim to that meritocracy. There is zero merit in inherited wealth. There is no merit in vulgarity, no matter how many fellow vulgarians dress it up as "saying it like it is". There is no merit in knowing nothing, no matter how afraid of expertise and intelligence the peasant class is. I am offended, in ways that exceed my capacity for reasonable discourse, by this elevation of the mediocre. By this worship of the idiot as a symptom of the self hating ignorance of the legions of equally mediocre voters. This offense against all progress is a vile cancer on the impulse to continue to perfect our union, and it must be stamped out, beaten down, crushed. Not all opinions are valid, not all ideas are created equal, and the idea that humanity must retard its journey in order to assuage the confusion of the most mediocre of our species is a betrayal of every potential we have.

Shower Thoughts

If the universe is really a simulation, then quantum mechanics would just be a neat function for the computer to carry out so that it would use up less processing power by rendering only things that are being interacted with instead giving a value to every particle being simulated.

Jon's Hamm

The infamous trouser snake has gotten loose again and was spotted roaming the streets of New York! Protect your wives! Protect your daughters! Protect your husbands and your sons!

Down The Rabbit Hole

When I'm not otherwise occupied at work, I've found that an excellent way to make time pass in the blink of an eye is to get on Google Maps/Street View.

I spotted this photo over on Shorpy the other day. It was labeled, "Card Alley, San Francisco, February 1936." I'd never heard of Card Alley, so I figured it was either one of the multitude of half-block long streets that dot downtown, or it was no longer in existence.

The former proved to be the case, because I hopped on Google Maps and found it almost immediately, Surprisingly it still looks very similar.

Once in San Francisco, however, I started exploring. First it was all the places I'd lived. (It looks like many of the buildings had changed ownership because they were actually being kept up now.) From there I started visiting all my old haunts, my workplaces (the small architectural office where I worked 8 years is now a vacant lot adjacent to a condo complex), my daily commute (I actually walked that much?!?). And from there I moved out of the city proper to visit a few of my other favorite places: the Marin Headlands, Sausilito, and then points further afield.

I found myself awash in a curious mix of emotions, a lot of which I can't even find words for. Obviously there was sadness, a sense of loss tinged with regret at having never done all the things I'd wanted to do (because there was always next week, next month, next year)…but there was also joy and that feeling of "home" I always experienced when I was there. I've always said San Francisco was a very jealous mistress, but one that would welcome you back in a heartbeat with open arms should you stray and then return.

I think that's one of the reasons I haven't gone back since my departure in 2002. I fear that Siren will grip me and demand my return to her bosom as it did the last time I left. (Granted, that was only an absence of about six months, not fifteen years, so my fears may be groundless.)

And—perhaps most fortunately for me to resist that siren song—as I noted even while living there in my 20s and 30s, is that it remains a city of and for the young…and most recently, a city of the insanely wealthy young, a demographic that I decidedly do not fall into. I remember balking at having to pay $1300 a month for a one bedroom apartment with off-street garage parking and a view of downtown on Twin Peaks in 2002. Nowadays, $1300 might get you a mother-in-law studio apartment in the back of a garage in the Outer Sunset.—if you're lucky.

But it was still a fun little virtual visit and I plan on returning for further exploration the next time I'm sitting at work with nothing to do and waiting for the day to end.

I Know It's Fake…

…because every other picture I've seen of Mr. Hardwick shirtless indicates he's either shaved to within an inch of his life or naturally smooth as a baby's hind end. But it's still nice to fantasize.

Some Days I Do Miss Denver

I knew it was hot the minute I walked out of work yesterday afternoon. The car thermometer registered 119 for most of the commute, topping out at 121 as I turned onto our street. The temperature probe on this thermometer had been in the shade all day, so that was the actual air temperature.

On days like this, -8℉ and 10" of snow in the middle of May doesn't sound so bad. But then I think about the other aspects of life that caused us to flee Denver and realize it's just the heat (and a bit of nostalgia) talking to me.

I fear these temps are becoming the new normal and their onset and duration will only get earlier and last longer. (But according to Glorious Leader and his minions, global warming is just a myth perpetrated by Liberals and the Chinese to sell more us air conditioners and take away our guns, force us to have abortions and get gay married…or something.)

A Little Yoke

Pretty sure that both Jehovah and Satan are scratching their heads, giving puzzled looks to each other at this point.
Jehovah: Are you sure he's not one of yours? Because I didn't make him.
Satan: Puleeze, gurl. Give me some credit. Even I have standards.
Jehovah: Buddha? Brahma?
*Both shrug their shoulders*
Satan: Gaia?
Gaia: *glowers*
Satan: Right, right. Sorry. Forgot about the "pussy grabbing" thing.
Jehovah: Cthulhu?
Cthulhu: What kind of monster do you take me for? *sips tea*
Satan: Well somebody cooked him up!
Flying Spaghetti Monster: …
Jehovah: Wait…there is no way you could…
Flying Spaghetti Monster: Look, it was my first time. I was a little drunk and someone asked for a "Tangerine Dream" so I thought…
Satan: *facepalms* Fucking newbies!

Customer Service

With all the years I've been doing PC support, one truth is self-evident: every company has approximately a dozen users who are unmitigated pains-in-the-ass. It's either because they're willfully ignorant, refuse to learn and expect you to hold their hand through every step of a process—or they're arrogant assholes who they think the entire organization will collapse if they can't do their work. Usually the two go hand-in-hand.

Yesterday I had a very unpleasant interaction with one of these Dirty Dozen. Afterward I mentioned this user's name to one of my coworkers, and he responded, "Oh, you mean 'Queen-Of-All-She-Surveys?'" Glad to know it isn't just me who has this opinion.

I have a bit of history with this person. Several months ago I was assigned a ticket to help her recover some pictures from a CD. I didn't think anything of it until I actually got deskside and found out that they were personal photos from her daughter's birthday party.

I told her I would be unable to assist because this was not work related. She lit into me about not providing good customer service and how the entire support structure here was crap and she was going to speak to my supervisor…yada, yada, yada.

It was all I could do to not roll my eyes.

Well, after I got back to my desk I immediately called my boss who backed me 100%. "That was definitely not work related and she shouldn't have called it in. You did the right thing."

Well about a week ago I got a request from her admin to install a certain piece of software on five workstations in her department (including Queen-Of-All-She-Surveys). Thankfully QOASS was out of the office when I did the install. Unfortunately, I immediately ran into a snag because the software has to be registered online before it can even be used and it appeared that our firewall was blocking access to that particular website—as well as its alternate.

I let the admin know I would try connecting to the website with my Mac (which isn't on the corporate network) when i got back to my desk, and if successful would circle back around with her to get the necessary activation codes entered into the five machines.

I wasn't able to reach the website from my Mac either. I checked that night from home and it still wasn't reachable. This told me the manufacturer was having issues. I spoke with the admin the next day and told her I would keep checking over the next few days and when the site was back online I'd be in touch. "No problem," she said.

Well, yesterday morning I got a nasty email from the subject of this story asking why the software still hadn't been activated. "It's been over a week!" (Yeah, bitch, there was also a four-day weekend in there in case you hadn't noticed.) Before I contacted her, I attempted to reach the website through our network and lo and behold, it was finally working.

I called her, connected to her machine, and activated the software. The software of course, required additional user-specific setup to be done before it could be used, and when I told her it would be a few more minutes, she snapped, "I don't have time for this! We ordered this software weeks ago and it should work without having to go through all this!" At this point I had to bite my tongue. I very calmly asked, "When do you have time available to finish setting up the software?"

"I don't know! You have control of my PC and I need to look at my calendar!"

I told her to take the mouse, open Outlook and check.

"1 pm. It's the only time I have available."

"Great," I said. "I'll send you an Outlook invite for 1 pm today."

I called her at 1 pm. "I don't need your help any more. My admin set it up for me."

What. A. Cunt.

Shortsighted

When I came on board at this agency eighteen months ago as a contracted "imaging specialist," they were hip deep in a statewide PC refresh project that was not going well. (I had interviewed with them two prior times during the previous six months to assist with this project, first as a "morning after" service desk technician and then as a PC tech. I was rejected both times—and at that point they were already nearly a year behind schedule.)

Initially the new equipment was being pushed out with Windows 10. It was resoundingly hated by the user base, but more importantly it didn't play nice with several mission-critical software applications. (You'd think they would've done some testing first, but no—this is the gub'mint after all.)

About three months into my tenure, the grousing from the users and the software incompatibilities became such an issue that it was announced that we were no longer to be rolling out Windows 10, and were reverting to 7 from that point forward. The machines that were already in the field with 10 were going to remain unless they needed to run that incompatible software (or the users screamed loud enough).

Prior to this gig, I had next-to-no experience with 10, and after fighting to get it to behave (as did all of my colleagues), I welcomed the news that everything was going back to 7.

But then something funny happened. As my contract was starting to wind down, I decided to load 10 on my own workstation. All the job postings I looked at required at least a modicum of Windows 10 experience, so I figured I'd better grab what I could while I had the opportunity.

And it turned out I actually came to like the OS—not enough for me to ever want to give up Apple for my own personal computing, but in a work environment it really wasn't bad!

The main part of the refresh project ended last fall, but instead of packing my things and saying goodbye as I'd anticipated, they offered to keep me on as a pc/desktop tech (with a 30% increase in pay). Naturally I accepted, so I didn't need the Windows 10 experience, but I'm still glad to have gained it.

We just completed Phase 2 of the statewide refresh, and Windows 7 is still being put out there. Surprisingly, there's been no talk of revisiting Windows 10, even though Microsoft's support of 7 will be ending in about 30 months—only halfway through the agency's 5-year hardware refresh schedule. I find that more than a little short-sighted, especially since as far as I know, nothing is being done to get the non-compliant applications brought up to speed.

I guess if nothing else it's job security for me…

This…

This is where the true power of our government comes from. Not from the infantile tweets of a demented, narcissistic old man who fancies he's been made God Emperor.

Pretty Much!

I can't wait to go home from sitting at my office job at a computer just to do the same thing—except without pants on.

Happy 4th!

Today is July 4, 2017. This is the day we Americans celebrate our birthday. We are not an empire, we are a country, and we are still young, and still suffering through our growing pains. We are still evolving. Things change. Even though we have an aging Nero wannabe in the White House, rest assured that this to will pass." ~ Dave, Riding On

All I would add to Dave's quote is to remind us that our country, our people—our ideals—are stronger than any one leader and have survived much worse than the willfully ignorant, narcissistic orangutan currently occupying the Oval Office. "This too shall pass." Like a kidney stone, no doubt, but it will pass and the country will be stronger because of it.