Chemicals, chemicals, non-franchise chemicals!

Now that I'm back amongst the ranks of the employed, I'm going to have to re-state my support for coffee. A legal, socially acceptable stimulant, it's sometimes the only thing that keeps me upright and functional. Now, the shaved apes I have to work with may be happy drinking cup after cup of instant Nescafe all day, but this particular simian needs something a little bit better. Yes, there are two Starbucks and one Costa on my way to work, but I like options. Besides, if I've learned nothing else from the films of Sylvester Stallone, it's that you should support the little guy, the unlikely artist with something to say, the underdog, the heavily armed veteran and the arm-wrestling-truck-driving single father.

Hmm. Seem to have lost the track there. Anyway, if you'd like to find a non-Starbucks coffee nearby, try Delocator.com (or Delocator.ca or Delocator.org.uk, depending on where you're aiming to go) for a postal/zip code search of independently owned coffee shops and tea parlors and such.

(Thanks for the heads up, Secret Agent K!)

Lowering the bar for higher education

It's a dark day for edumacation in Great Britain. In a move to improve the numbers of people holding qualifications, the UK has announced that they'll certify certain McDonald's management courses as being equivalent to A-levels, which will be something roughly equivalent to AP credit towards getting something like diplomas or associates degrees.

And to make things worse, an otherwise unremarkable university that has not yet lost its accredited status has hired a shiftless, foul-mouthed foreigner to teach a study skills and language improvement class to other foreign students who lack the language skills and the motivation to make it at the university level.

Oh, the irony gets thick sometimes!

Seriously, who cares about this sort of thing?

Should anyone at all care about the fact that some jerk running for congress had his face put on a thinner body for a campaign photo? It's just a little bit of advertising sent to voters to present an image of himself, which obviously has no bearing on his policies, right? And the fact that the people putting his ad together felt they were doing him a favor by making him look better than he may actually look in real life doesn't really matter, does it? And since the people are clearly too smart to care about anything other than the real issues of the day, there's no reason to give a damn about any of this, is there? The truthiness will come through in the end.


Incidentally, doesn't democracy rely on an informed populace to function? No? Sorry, I must have been thinking of something else. I, for one, welcome our new, composite-imaged leaders. Long may their photoshopped visages shine.

Keep on keepin' on

Going back to work soon. Edumactin' them thar ex-changed students. Yeah, the foul-mouthed Yank foreigner complaining about the quality of instruction is being hired to teach at that self-same institution. Not quite the blind leading the blind, but somewhere in the neighborhood. Maybe "the belligerent lecturing the apathetic" or "the surly leading the indifferent".

Anyway, been trying to get some fictional-type writing done. I figure I've already got half-empty bottles scattered around my desk, a big-ass stack of books to read that no one else seems interested in, and I can use "synecdoche" in a sentence. What else do I need besides a snooty portrait for the back of my book, a felt-tip pen to autograph with, and some Hollywood type to arrange an option deal that will linger in development hell forever and ever?

I mean, besides a plot and characters, and maybe another 90,000 words or so?

Happy 2008 y'all. I'll be back to bitching about stuff soon.

What is stupidity alternative to?

Did I say something about optimism?
Forget it. These jokers are selling a new t-shirt that's been pre-torn to make it look like an old t-shirt. It doesn't come with any sort of cool logo, hipster design, or even a retro iron-on. It's just a frayed t-shirt that costs forty dollars.

Forty god-damned dollars for a frayed t-shirt.

Anyone that would pay that, even in devalued 2007 money, is a fucking idiot. And I don't care how alternative your stubble is.

What's that emotion that's lower than scorn, but not as gentle as pity? That's what I feel for the humans. Every last one of us.

Geek Tagging?

You ever seen one of those big-ass ads projected onto a wall or something? They kind of suck, don't they? Sure would be good if someone could work out a way to do something about it.

Something like this.

Every now and then I start to feel a little bit optimistic about humans. Usually somewhere around beer number four.

[link courtesy Graffiti Research Lab]

Stereotypes dept. part 11

Today I met a garrulous Irish person with a delightful lilting accent, bright red hair, and an actual twinkle in her eye. Within three minutes of her sitting down, I'd heard about her job, her daughter, her daughter's job, her expected granddaughter, her dental history (really), the best places to buy prayer-cards (honestly), her trip to Krakow for dental work (no kidding), and the possibility of her taking a job as a live-in caregiver for a wealthy, elderly VIP expat living in Oman (I shit you not).

It's been far too long since I had one of these conversations, and this one just about made my day.

In the system again...

I think my extended visa application will be approved, which means it looks as though I'm going to be a legit citizen again.

Which means I'll be able to look for full time work. From the point of view of the relative strength of the pound against the dollar, that's probably a good thing. Of course, that also means I'll have to try and be a respectable, employable such-and-such, which may not be so good. The last time I demonstrated any aptitude at work, it was at strangling junior high students and drawing cartoon pictures of monsters and Santa Claus and Kamen Rider and such.

Somehow I don't think that'll do me much good here. Damn stupid non-transferable skills. When is there going to be a job that requires a command of English grammar, Japanese pop-culture trivia, QuarkXPress and a willingness to drink alcohols of many lands?

You got your caffeine in my capsacin!

It ain't easy to get one's chile fix in England. This is one of those countries that sent people around the planet looking for stuff to improve the national diet¹. Yeah, for dinner the curries around here can be great. But something as simple as a red chile breakfast burrito is sadly beyond their capacity. So what's a fella who needs something spicy before noon to do?

I have had exactly one great idea this month, born from this state of adversity: Red Chile coffee. When the ground coffee goes in the filter, a spoonful of red chile flakes go in too. Then brew as usual. That's it. Simple. But now I'm getting my caffeine with that familiar chile heat as a follow-up bonus. Efficient and tasty.

This probably isn't that different from dipsomaniacs² who wind up guzzling cosmopolitans while claiming the cranberry juice is good for their urinary tracts.

¹ I think this is why people here say "send out for a Chinese" or "get an Indian" when they're talking about take-out food; it's a leftover from when they were talking about arranging another colony to send back something of worth.
² "Dipsomaniac" is a much better word than "lush" or wino or something. Even though anyone drinking pitchers of cosmopolitans is more likely to be some sort of lush.

Condom Machine in a London Men's Room