September 25, Disbarment Day

Sept. 25^th is a day that gamers will long hold in a special place in their hearts. Especially if the lawyer in question fails to win his appeal.

The twenty-fifth of September is the day that Florida disbarred Jack Thompson, and did it so that once finalized he can never become a lawyer with the Florida Bar again (and one can only hope that that would translate to the other states in the union as well).

What's so annoying about this Jack Thompson? Well, he's one of those idiotic reactionists who want to blame everything bad that happens on the evils of video games.

In my estimation, the only folks stupider than that, are those who blame gun violence on guns.

While I firmly believe that Mr. Thompson has the right to badmouth games all he wants, suing businesses to keep games from being released is a step outside of the lines. All video games come with ratings, much like movies. It's not like someone is going to buy a M rated game for their toddlers. Well, I wouldn't actually put that past people, but that's because people can be dumb.

No, my only hope now is that this will more or less shut him up, and we won't have to listen to his rantings concerning how destructive and evil video games are.

And in that hope, let's celebrate a new holiday for gamers! From now on, September won't just host "Talk like a Pirate Day" but will also be home to Disbarment Day!

Wal-Mart Made My Wife Cry

I am irate.

No, scratch that, I'm beyond irate. Irate is what I get whenever Wal-Mart accuses me of stealing when I'm walking out of the store with a large box of diapers that I've paid for--and they insist that I submit myself to their inspection.

This goes beyond that, by an order of magnitude.

Apparently, Wal-Mart has a new policy in effect for the Madison area. Basically, as you come into the store with returns, they force you to submit to an inspection of your property that you're taking back into the store for a refund. What happens is that the door greeter takes a horrendously long time in scanning each and every item to create a number of stickers which they print out and attach to the items.

My wife probably wouldn't have been as distraught over this act if she had not been returning some undergarments.

Basically, this is how the trip went tonight.

We walked in, and waited at the door for one of those stupid pink stickers. The greeter informed us of a new policy, which involved a scanner and a printer and the fact that we had to take every item out of the bag we had it in.

Like I said, this wouldn't have been something that horrid, except my wife was returning undergarments. So this greeter forced my wife to more or less debase herself by having her take out all theses underwear not only in front of the MALE door greeter but also in front of the half-dozen or so male customers and employees who were loitering in the foyer area.

When my beloved made the simple request that he pull the printer and scanner around the corner to hide it from the other men, he refused and said he had to be in front of the camera.

Which confounded me, as I know that there's no camera in the foyer area. So I asked him what camera, and he said the black one on top of the door.

Which looked kind of like this:

Yes, that is a sensor from the automatic doors.

After I questioned him about the utter idiotic statement that there was a camera hidden in said device, we finally received the blessed Wal-Mart approval to head to the "Customer Service" desk.

Now, I was thinking, hey, this junk has already been scanned once, there shouldn't be a need to scan it again.

Boy was I wrong.

We get to the counter, my wife tearing up at this point, and I instantly ask to see an Assistant Manager. So, imagine my surprise (or lack thereof actually) when the Wal-Martian had to scan every item in my stack of stuff (as we no longer had them in nice bags).

So, I'm storming, and my beloved wife is trying to keep me from chewing out the poor CSR. When the assistant manger FINALLY shows up (for the record we stood there maybe 5 minutes, but when you're as beyond-irate as I was that does seem like forever) my wife tells him the story, and one kind of expects apologies from the assistant manager over what is in effect a stupid policy.

Again, boy was I wrong.

Which is highly odd, because I remember having to jump through hoops--and not always proverbial ones--to appease irate customers when I was a Wal-Martian, but I digress.

So, as you can see, it was a fun evening, and I'm still beyond irate. Not only did this policy make my wife cry, which made me angry beyond belief, but the process doubles the time it takes to make a return, as each item has to be scanned twice.

I can admit, we've cut back on the amount that we've been shopping at Wal-Mart. After all, Kroger is not that much more expensive and it's closer. Yet there were still things we purchased there--including those boxes of diapers that I'm constantly getting searched over.

Well, at this point, that's enough. Not even the joy of making the idiotic door greeters squirm when I tell them that they are in effect accusing me of shoplifting by requesting me to submit to a search can entice me to return to Wal-Mart now.

I'll drive an extra 10 miles down the road to go to Target.

Actually, I won't even need to drive extra, there's one I can stop at on my way home from work.


At this point, the only thing that will get me back into Wal-Mart is if I go there, buy 100 of those dollar hot wheels, and then turn back around and return them.

At least if I did that, then the door greeter would be tied up with scanning that he couldn't accuse folks of shoplifting.

Anyways, for more reading on the joys of being treated piss-poor by Wal-Mart then you can read this:

• Wal-Mart Holds Your Credit Card and ID Hostage When You Complain
• Walmart Calls You An Idiot, Tells You To Shut Up And Never Come Back
• Walmart Saves You $10 By Refusing To Sell You Anything
• Walmart Stops You And The Assistant Manager For Refusing To Show Receipt
• Detained And Harassed At Walmart For Not Showing A Receipt

Charlton Heston--A Great American.

Another icon of Conservative America has now passed from this mortal coil. Over the weekend, Charlton Heston died.

It's sad, and not just because he was the guy from Planet of the Apes. Mr. Heston spent many years as the president of the National Rifle Association fighting for our Second Amendment rights. Among others. This is the guy that resigned from an Actor's group because that particular group refused to allow a Caucasian play a Eurasian role.

I'm sad that such a fighter (one of the few from Liberal Hollywood) is now out of the fight.

Yet we still have his example to draw from.

We still can fight for our rights, in the same way that he did, and he espoused during his life.

Good bye, Mr. Heston, and thanks for your efforts on our behalf.

The joys of Comcast Cable.

I'm moving.

Yup, I've left Pensacola, FL, and have set up house in Madison, MS. Surprising, I now, but it happens. Of course, with the move, means a new cable company has to be utilized for TV and high-speed internet. Much to my unending annoyance, that particular cable company is Comcast.

The first time I stumbled across Comcast was when one of their Santa Rosa county customers managed to transpose a few digits on their bank account when they were paying their bill. It took me a couple of phone calls, the average of which was three hours, plus two visits to their local office (which was about an hour away from Pensacola) before they even seemed to realize that I didn't have an account with them, that I didn't live in their service area, and that they took money from me without proper authorization. At which point, they told me that I had to deal with the bank about it, despite the fact that the bank was pointing me towards Comcast.

So, it was with that bias, and let me tell you, I was quite irate at Comcast for quite a while for that, that I went into setting up cable access with the move.

Well, the first thing I did was I went to their corporate website and ordered digital cable and highspeed internet. I ground my teeth as their website told me that because I was a new customer, I couldn't connect my highspeed internet myself (after all, it's such a confusing process of plugging a cable cord into the cable modem). Yet, I accepted this blatant desire for more of my hard-earned money, and ordered anyways.

At which point, I discovered that they couldn't find the address in their national database of addresses. Apparently, they don't use Google Maps.

Well, after the incredibly unhelpful Customer Service Rep on their little "Online Chat" thing tells me this news, he then proceeds to tell me that I've to either call their local office or go in person to the local office, because they can't look up anything on Google Maps.

So, with my eye twitching, I filled in their survey, restraining myself from telling them exactly what I was feeling at the moment, punctuated as it would be with various and sundry words that I try my best to not say, and would spank my child for saying, and put ordering cable off, because I had to pack.

Well, today, we closed on our house, and found ourself with a few hours in which to go about doing those tasks we had to do in person. Since I despise with a passion talking to people on the phone, we chose to actually visit the local Comcast office.

Let me reiterate a point here: I HATE talking on the telephone.

I despise it with nigh upon every fiber of my being.

I would rather watch a Law and Order marathon.

Heck, I'd rather have toothpicks shoved under my fingernails.

So, now that I've made my feelings regarding phone conversations clear, let's tell you what I was expecting to see.

The Cox cable local office in Pensacola has a nice, wide lobby. To one side are the payment windows. To the other side, there are this little cubicles for folks setting up service, who have problems, etc. I was expecting something like that.

After all, I'm trying to give these people $120 a month for various services and rentals, and that's before the taxes and fees that the government adds in, so I would expect to be able to talk to a real, live person, in the flesh. I mean, that's customer service.

So, we walk into the Comcast office and this is the sight I am greeted with.

• Directly ahead, a bank of televisions set into the wall, and a rent-a-cop dozing off on a stool
• On the wall to the right, a door, next to the rent-a-cop, and a phone, and a table with various papers
• Looking left, I find three tellers, and those corral things creating lines for the tellers.

My entire body tensed, but I had faith that this company was created by reasonable people, and they knew that folks liked working in person.

Sometimes, my hope in humanity comes out at the worst possible moments.

I walked up to the teller, and nicely tell her, "Hi, I'd like to set up service."

In what can only be in the most bored, and disdainful way possible, she whispers (because I sure couldn't hear what she was supposed to be saying through the plate glass window she was hiding behind) something about that phone on the far wall.

A phone.

I wanted a person! Is that so hard? I had questions about the hardware I wanted to ask. I wanted to know about just why I had to pay that outrageous fee to have someone come out and connect a cable line to a cable modem. That's all he should be doing, because there's no way that I'm allowing them to install any software on my machine. Cable internet should not need software on my machine. If it does that's a problem on their end.

But, is it so hard to get a real, live person?

Not that evil device.

So, I walked over to the phone, my wife trailing after me. In my most happiest voice, the one I save for just these types of situations, I muttered (and amusingly enough, the place had great acoustics, so my mutter echoed), "Cox lets you talk to a real person."

At which point my wife hushed me and picked up the infernal device and started punching in numbers supposedly in order to talk to someone.

After a bit, a voice comes on the line (I'm still not convinced it was a real person on the other end), and the wifey tells them we want service, and gives them our address.

At which point, we're once more told that our address doesn't exist in the national database.

At which point, I was beginning to wish that me and the wife both didn't despise satellite television.

So, we have that all settled, at which point, the voice on the phone asks us to give them directions to the house.

...

I thought they had the internet. Isn't that what Google Maps is for?

My wife stuttered a few times, and then handed me the phone, explaining tot he voice that I was her husband and could probably give directions.

I so wanted to ask them why they couldn't use Google, but I bit my tongue, and reminded myself that I want to give these voices on the phone $120 a month for various services and proceeded to describe in vague details how to get to our new home.

At which point she asks me what color it is.

Apparently, "Brick" isn't a good enough answer to that question.

And I'm also supposed to have counted the number of houses from the corner it was, even though I've only been to the place a dozen times or so.

So, now that I've drawn blood, and gave these directions (though it would have been a smarter choice for her to look it up on Google, because though I know how to get to the house, I'm still not sure how good my directions were), I find out what I'm giving directions for.

It's an inspection to see if they can even bother to schedule an install.

And how long pray tell will this visual inspection of the house take (and by visual inspection, I mean they come out, and literally look at the house to see if it has a cable connection), well, the voice on the phone is "hopeful" that we should hear something back by Monday or Tuesday, but it could possibly take up to five or six business days.

Five or six days to come out and look at the house, so that we can actually talk about having cable installed.

I could feel my eye beginning to twitch.

Do these people not realize that I want to give them $120 a month for various services and products a month for a number of years? We're talking thousands of dollars for my and my family's mindless entertainment. I want to give them money, and they're talking about inspections and cable drops.

And she never even gave me an estimated time to schedule the installation after the inspection, but I came out of the conversation thinking it'd be another five or six days after the inspection.

Two weeks before I can start giving them $120 a month for services rendered.

Two weeks before I can pay an obscene amount of money for someone to come out and screw a cable line into my cable modem.

And all of that is if I happen to have whatever it is that the cable company is coming to look at my house for.

Who knows how long it will be if for whatever reason my house doesn't.

Did I mention that I actually WANT to pay them money for services?

...

I think hence forth, whenever someone asks me if I have lost my mind (which amusingly enough, happens with startlingly regularity), I'll have to reply, "Well, I'm using Comcast, ain't I?"

United Blogger's Union

TechCrunch brought me an interesting article via my RSS Feed entitled Is Blogging Ready For a Unionized Workforce.

I've always lived in a Right To Work state, where unions have to work doubly-hard to get you to join. Additionally, I've never actually worked at a job where a union had a hold of how things were run, at least for the jobs I was part of. I did work at United Artist Theatres my senior year of high school, and the projectionists had a union that he was a part of, but us peons down in concessions and the ushers weren't part of that union.

Also, I have never desired to be a part of a union. When I worked for Wal-Mart, there was a big push by various unions (mostly the grocery workers union) to get Wal-Mart employees organized. I just didn't see the point of the whole thing. I made a great wage when one considers the fact that I was (by this point) merely moving packages across a laser and smiling at customers. I had no complaints about the benefits package (health, dental, eye, 401K, stock options, etc). Basically, for all my whining about Wal-Mart at the time, it really wasn't that bad of a job to have. Maybe it's nostalgia or hindsight coloring my memories, but I don't think so.

Then to top it all off, I've read horror stories where people were forced to put up stickers on company vehicles for candidates that they did not support because the Union supported them (this was back during the '04 election, if memory serves it involved plumbers, Kerry and a plains state).

So, ultimately, I have never liked unions. I understand the historical need for them, but I frown upon giving a portion of my money to a group that do not necessarily believe in the same things that I do (another reason to not like taxes!).

And that is something else to consider. When you're a Union-man, you're kind of expected to do what the union wants you to do.

Then consider that bloggers have often been, well, not that good at doing what they're expected to do.

So, I read that article, and followed the initial link on down to the original Wall Street Journal article, and discovered, well, it wasn't that suprising. Even, reading the headline about organized labor I knew which side of the aisle these people were on, but here's the text:

A loosely formed coalition of left-leaning bloggers are trying to band together to form a labor union they hope will help them receive health insurance, conduct collective bargaining or even set professional standards.

So, surprise! it's the lefties at it again.

So, here they are, trying for health insurance (uhm, wouldn't blogging be considered basically freelance writing? Usually for free? Read that as self-employed contractor), conduct collective bargaining (I can only assume they mean for those blog co-opts, of which I'm not a part, and currently don't see myself joining one) and possibly set professional standards.

This last one kind of annoys me. Part of what I like about blogging is that ANYONE can do so. It's not hard to set up a Blogger site or a LiveJournal. Heck, I use Blogger as the CMS for my three primary blogs (this one, No Krakana and A Programmer's Dream) as well as the CMS for the main page of my family's website and my youngest son's site, and I'm working on converting my eldest boy's site to using it, but I must first convert his site's layout into a Blogger Template.

I'm not overly fond of some third party setting up standards (which can at times read just as easily as restrictions/regulations) about blogging.

I wouldn't even particularly like it if some group set up some arcane standards for my professional job as a Software Engineer that I had to live by in order to get work (we actually do have a set of Professional Ethics & Practices but for the most part they're common sense things, and it's not enforced, unless you join ACM or IEEE or some other computer society that makes you sign off on them).

Ultimately, I'm against this. Unilaterally and without exception. I don't see a need for this, nor the attraction. Additionally, I just view it as an effort for the Left to try and gain more control over Bloggers. Sure, that may mean I'm cynical, but you know, I'm fine with being cynical.

Black History Month in Review

Well we've gone through another black history month none the worse for wear. Why we dedicate a month to black history rather than incorporating it into it's appropriate place with the rest of history is beyond me, but the thing I want to talk on today is BET. BET is the initial black TV channel. I say initial because it has had competitors (all gone now) and is about to get more (Read More Here). But what is it about BET that has given it such staying power? The rich and powerful of the black community have long derided BET and its programming choices (those horrid rap videos glorifying sex and violence mainly). Yet this channel is dominate, and has dominated the market. This channel has focused so solely on these videos that they even got rid of their news sections. I must ask, Why? What makes their market such that anything other than those videos fails? Is it the market itself? Or are the programmers offering programming to the lowest common denominator?

If the latter is the case then why did those other ventures into black entertainment channels fail so gloriously? If the former is the case, why are the leaders of the black community surprised that violence is so rampant in their communities? They cannot complain about the overwhelming black prison population until their culture, as evidenced by their programming on their entertainment channels, stops glorifying violence. Now this is not to say that violence and crime are due to the music, the problem rests more in the broken hmes, single family homes, and children being raised by grandparents than due to music. The music is just a cultural thermometer for the social ills that plague the community. Instead of celebrating history, should we not be tryin to chane our present?

Man + Picture of Girl = Rat + Cocaine

What? You say. That’s right, I was reading the paper and there was an article in it about a study done on men and they proved that men like to look at pictures of pretty girls. The study was set up where they showed a man a picture, and he had to press a button to see it again. Well that button was pressed more times than a rat will press a button to receive cocaine.

So it’s settled I guess, men are more like rats then we ever wanted to admit.

Sick Fortune Cookiees

"Behind every able man, is other able men."

That's the fortune cookie I got at lunch today. I found it incredibly disturbing. I have always been a firm believer in the saying "Behind every able man, is his wife." My wife is my helpmate and everything I may or will acheive in my life will be for her, and the children she will bear for me, but even more so for her.

I don't know, I was just highly disturbed by such a fortune....