With major landscaping underway it was always gonna be tricky snatching some quality time to waste this Tuesday, however, I still managed to:

- (ever so slightly) flame a famous movie producer in a public forum. No more freebies for you buddy!
- watch 6 Borat videos on YouTube

- avoid 3 calls from customers

- stare at the flat, surfless ocean

- look for vintage clothing on ebay

- be consumed with laughter at the misfortune of some unspsecting victim on aforementioned forum when he revealed himself to be a complete and utter nitwit, and was torn to shreds soon after

- yell at Internet Explorer for buggering up my perfectly valid CSS that worked perfectly in Mozilla

This time wasting came at the expense of:

- completing my outstanding BAS for Q2 and 3 2006

- food shopping

- ringing back all the people I was too busy or too disinterested to call back yesterday

- digging a large hole in my backyard

- getting a much needed haircut

- getting any excersise whatsoever

So that was Time wastin’ Tuesday.

How was yours?

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Lots of posts on blogs about the place this week have got me thinking about the way the whole tangled web of friendships becomes established online. More to the point, it has me thinking about the “unfriending” part.

In my daily trawl of the blogs I like to read I often notice little sideshows, little peripheral happenings that go unnoticed by many. This is particularly prevalent on the more popular blogs, where commenters often seem to be competing for the blogger’s attention. It’s not unusual to notice flirting between two ( or more ) commenters, but sometimes I suspect other little subplots are unfolding that are not immediately obvious. I certainly have noted some passive aggression at times, even overt abuse directed at another commenter or the blogger themselves. I’ve also often wondered if I have missed some subtext, especially when a frequent commenter suddenly drops off a blogger’s radar, or two bloggers suddenly seem to stop commenting or responding to comments on each other’s blogs.

Clearly in these instances one person feels that another has crossed some line, and either insulted them deliberately or somehow by omission. Other times, I am sure, it’s just a misunderstanding. I think blogrolls can often contribute to this, and that’s a big reason why I don’t have one. I wonder if when these “unfriendings” occur if words have been exchanged “off the field” perhaps, and both parties have agreed not to start a public spat. I also wonder if there are cases where a cold war has broken out, and neither party is prepared to swallow their pride. I’m sure there are instances too where after a period of time people aren’t what they seem - and one or both parties decide they don’t want to be associated anymore. I don’t see a problem with that, the same thing happens in real life.

I’ve been “unfriended” once online, but to be perfectly honest I wasn’t too cut up about it. The same goes for blogs I’ve commented on, generally by leaving a compliment in the first instance, where the blogger has never replied. I don’t take it personally, in fact I adopt a fairly dismissive attitude. Sometimes a brief and polite exchange may follow for one or two comments before one party gets bored, or you just realise there’s not much of a spark there. I don’t consider such cases rejection or “unfriendings”… they’re more like when you meet someone at a party and strike up a conversation based on one single common thread. If that’s the only thing you share, the conversation, and any chance of friendship, fades soon after.

All this has me thinking though, what would someone have to do to truly offend me in the blog world? What would be so bad that I would suddenly close off all contact with them, and sever any ties I had to them? And if I did, would I speak ill of them, or just let the fact I obviously had nothing to do with them anymore speak for itself? And what about the aftermath? Would I feel as anxious about such a thing as I might in real life? Would the other person?

With exception of nasty, borderline mental case stuff like stalking, outing, or being personally threatened, what would lead you to unfriend someone online? What would push you too far? Where do you draw the line?

When is it time to unfriend?

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BP had spoken about Ella often - including a couple of very funny stories that I dare not relate here. There was a common thread though… the use of words like “hottie” and “tidy” - a constant reference to the way she looked. No matter how hard I try, comments like these lead me to form an opinion, a perception of the person they are describing. Working closely with her, and knowing her pretty well, he also described her personality as smart, funny and adventurous. Needless to say, I was looking forward to making her aquaintance, as anyone would be. So when the knock at my door came, and I opened it, to find a slim twenty something girl in trackie dackies and flip flops, with almost no makeup and slightly disheveled, henna rinsed hair, why was I ever so slightly disappointed?

I’d seen her flitting about the corridors, but only caught a glimpse of her long blond hair and small frame from behind. She was new so I knew nothing of her, but I was driven by a desire to see what she looked like. A week later someone brought in birthday cake, and everyone gathered in the kitchen area. I drifted by and scooped up a slice, then retreated back into a doorway with my cubicle buddy, to stand around and “be there” for enought time to look like I cared. I looked across and saw her talking to one of the helpdesk guys, and while she was distracted I studied her. I came to the conclusion she was kinda cute, but in an obvious way - in fact, she remided me of a less busty Samantha Fox. In a flash I had come to a conclusion about her… that I probably wouldn’t have much in common with her, and wouldn’t try all that hard to make conversation unless she talked to me first.

It seemed everyone but me had met Rachel. Guys all got this particular look on their faces when they mentioned her… as if they were talking about a Ferrari or something. She’d been on TV, done plenty of catwalk stuff, so I knew in looks at least, she must have met with a fairly high standard. Purely from this description I formed an opinion of her, and when I first met her I was polite but a little standoffish. I just didn’t want to be lumped in with all the guys that fawned over her, or worse, wolf whistled her and tried to grope her when she was out at clubs. So why was I so disturbed, so disarmed, when I suddenly found myself alone with her and lost in a two hour conversation in a smokey bar? Why had I believed, that up until then, there is no way anyone like her would have anything to say I related to… let alone deeply? Why was I still in a state of shock when she gave me a big hug and genuinely thanked me for “listening to her go on and on”?

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OK, I’ve been looking at this page for half an hour now. Sounds like a great piece of shareware to convert embedded Flash video to any
other format.

So…. anyone else notice anything missing? 

 

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I rehearsed picking up the phone, and who I’d ask to speak to, and how I’d ask. My thumb hovered over the talk button momentarily before I put the phone down on the table again, suddenly discovering some new procrastination that simply could not wait. I opened some mail that I already knew would be of no interest or importance, then I decided the three plates in the sink had to be washed right there and then. “Just as soon as these are done”, I say to myself.

An hour later I’m alone with phone again, for the sixth time today, my right thumb resuming it’s now familliar position. I look at my notes again, I go through them. I pick up a pen in case I need to write anything down, but holding it also seems to help me focus. I wonder if they imagine me holding a pen. Do I sound like that? Do I sound sure of myself, confident… sincere?

The number stares back at me from the display, and I take a deep breath, and press “talk”. I explain to the receptionist I called last week, and I try to sound composed. I adopt a self righteous air, that I am even more inconvinienced than before, purely because I have had to chase them. A man’s voice comes on the phone. I’m expecting gruff… bureacratic… arrogant… and I am fully prepared. My hands don’t shake as I try to manage the adrenaline rush- enough to be on the offensive, but not too much to cause me to lose it. I don’t want to stammer or sound uncertain, I want to sound reasonable, but determined to be heard.

But I am disarmed. He is courteous… friendly… in fact, he is sympathetic. He says it has cost me enough, and I agree that yes, it has. And then he tells me something I never thought I would hear from the agency he represents. Not many people ever get to hear it. These people never admit an error. They hold all the aces. They own the game. Or so I thought.

Today is a good day.

I fought the law.

And I won.
 

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So, I’ve had a dream.

The dream involves a swimming competition, but it has a twist - it’s a team relay… and one of your team must be an animal. OK, so what animal would you pick? I’d go for a Dolphin.. that would be cool, but guess what? Everyone in the dream picked dogs. They picked stoopid dogs to doggy paddle the length of an olympic pool, and why? Becoz they wook so cute! “Awwwww! Woook at his widdle wegs go!” they all crooned.

But there was this one chick, she was smart, and she bought along a Seal! So she swims her bit, then at the other end of the pool the seal jumps in to do his bit. Of course, he’s already reached the other end of the pool, jumped out, done a flipper stand and barked twice before the other team’s dogs have made the 5m mark. So the smart chick wins the race, and everyone claps and cheers, and all these photographers come and take her picture with the clever seal.

And then I look at her and go… “I know her… but I can’t tell her or anyone else because I don’t want her to know I’m here”. So I quietly leave the Pool and walk home, and on the way I pass a news stand, and there’s a sports magazine on the rack and it’t got a picture of her and the seal on the cover, and she’s smiling and holding the winner’s trophy. So I buy it and I think to myself, “hmmm… I wonder if she knows she’s on the cover”, and then I think “ha!”, wouldn’t it be funny if I scanned in the picture and put it on my blog, with some witty caption.

Because she often reads my blog she’d know I was there at the pool that day.

And then I though “nah… that’d be a bit weird”.

So now you’re wondering, “who was it?”

Aren’t you!

My lips are sealed.

 

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Just when you think it might be a good day, a relaxing day, a steaming turd like this turns up in your inbox. Remember “the snub?”…


From: xxxxxxxx@xxxxxxxxxxxx.com.au
To: geeb@xxxxxxxxxxxxx.com
Subject: server stuff

Hi Geeb

Long time no speak…

Well, not my choice, but anyway… 


hope you’re doing well.

Really? OK then, thanks.


I’ve recently decided to cancel one of my web hosts, as I’ve been paying $100/m for something that I don’t use at all. I called the guy to cancel, and he informed me that there’s just a couple of days to go until it was about to be renewed!

Ummm…I hope it’s not the web host I think it is? 
The one we agreed I could host my sites on in leiu of ever asking for a
 cent for the $50,000 worth of dev work I did for you ”as a mate”?


Anyway, it only dawned on me this morning that you may have one or two websites hosted on this server - I have no idea (and couldn’t find out either.. not too sure where to look).

Oh fuck.


So, just to be safe, I am wondering if you can double check your details in case these other sites are located on it.

Ummm, six customer websites… 


I think it runs out tomorrow or Thurs.

What? Possibly in less than 24 hours? Are you fucking serious?


If you need more info (IP addresses or log in info), let me know.

Cheers, BJ


So, let me get this straight… I have 6 customers to notify of a potential outage with less than 24 hours notice, that potentially might knock out their websites and e-mail account for another 36 ours. In the meantime, I have 7 databases, 300Mb of content, 25 e-mail accounts, 10 subdomains, and 5 redirects to move to a new server somewhere, at my cost, and 6 sets of DNS entries to update?

Well, cheers for that BJ. I was happy to say the relationship was strictly business as of about 2 months ago when your taste of fame started to render your old mates redudnant, but now I can see we’ve become even less relevant. I guess kicking me off your  web  server (albeit in the most considerate, polite way)  pretty much wraps it up, huh?

Still, thanks for the e-mail hinting at perhaps a smidge of guilt or feined concern.

I notice I am still on your MSN contacts list, but feel free to remove me anytime you like.

Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.

Yours dismissively,

Your ex-pal,

Geeb

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You might say it’s one of my most endearing traits, this boundless enthusiasm, this unending stream of mad ideas… but if you had to live with it, I’m certain you’d want to hack me to death before long. You see, something I do in my life, all too often, is get involved in things that are far too big for me to manage in the minimal amount of available time I have.

Take the most recent example, when my favourite-ist PhD physicist, Mr Blonde, got me all fired up on yet another hair brained scheme that looks fantastic on paper, and is devilishly clever, but despite this fact will no doubt never, ever make us filthy rich. The project involves some pretty nifty online smarts, but in a way no-one else has approached it before. As ususal, I’m all like “yeah! yeah! I can see it!”, but more to the point, and far worse for my mental health, “yeah..yeah…. I can build it!”. Before I know it he’s registered the domain name, I’ve set up the server and have half developed the initial data structure… which has reached 26 tables and counting… eeep…

This is bad enough, but at least it just involves Me and Mr Blonde. If it ends up in a streaming pile of e-crud, no-one else suffers and the only thing we’ve lost is time. What’s worse, is when other people get involved in such a plan. Several other people.

Last week I set the ball rolling on another fairly sizable project… but this time it’s an event. Actually, it’s sort of a party. Sort of a fairly friggen big party, as it seems to be shaping up. I was sort of non-commital up until Friday… but now it’s too late. People have offered to help… and initial tasks have been allocated… and dates and deadlines have been set. Today I set up a website with the express purpose of project managing the whole shebang - from catering, to accomadation, to the evening’s program, to e-rsvp. I know that even before invites have been sent out, I have reached the point of no return. It’s locked in. It’s barely six weeks away.

I’ve done it again, haven’t I?

Shit Shit Shit Shit….

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It’s a sad day, actually, it’s a sad week.

I’ve spent most time wasting Tuesday ( well, at least the bits where I wasn’t surfing or chucking rocks at the fence in some vain effort to shut up next door’s yapfucky dog that has been at it since 7:30am ) mourning the passing of a great Aussie TV institution.

This week, for the first time in history, SBS has interrupted programs with advertising.

I was incensed when just 12 minutes into my beloved Monday evening viewing, I was ambushed with an advert for the bloody Telstra 3 share float. WTF? Number one, why the fisting christ am I seeing adverts where there were no adverts ever before, and number two, do they really think the average cynical, jaded generation-x MythBusters viewer could give a Boeing 747 sized flying fuck about buying shares in a technically insolvent, moraly bereft, grossly mismanaged telecomunications company? Even worse, the next advert was for a Jeep. A Friggen Jeep! Just who the hell do they think is watching? Angry.. much!

So I called the SBS 1800 “whinging bastard” line, to vent my frustration not only as a taxpayer, but as a disgruntled fan of advert free TV. SBS is part of the ABC and hence the federal government picks up the tab… but between show advertising helped bolster the coffers. Since most viewers got up for a twinkle or to do some ironing when it came on, no-one really cared. But this was different. This was just, well, an insult to the intelligence of the average snooty SBS viewer - we who like to think we are just that little bit smarter and discerning than your average Rove Live viewer who might even be inclined to sing along when their favourite TV ads come on.

I must confess I was a little taken aback when I got a real person on the line… and I had to suddenly re-write the swelling rant in my head to make it more…uhhhh… user freindly. “Let me just express my profound dissapointment of SBS’s recent decision to interrupt programming with advertisements” I said calmly, and matter of factly. Poor guy, he just sounded jaded. Really jaded. I asked if they had recieved a lot of calls, and he sort of sighed and groaned at the same time, confirming that yes, they had be deluged with complaints.

So now the only station that doesn’t interrupt programming with dopey, exceedingly loud, invasive mid-program advertising is SBS’s big brother - the ABC. I wonder how long this will last… and if SBS is actually being used as a guinea pig, and to soften resistance ahead of a similar plan. What these jerks fail to understand is that a BIG reason people enjoy the ABC and SBS so much is not just the programming, but also the absence of ads. I see this as the start of a grim slide into commercialism, and the path toward slow erosion of shows that are actually worth watching.

If we follow it to its logical conclusion, who knows where we’ll end up. Can you imagine, for example, Mr Bankrupt screaming at you half way through Compass? How about those annoying “we’re so great” channel promo ads, like Channel 10 does? Can’t you just see Anton Enos and Les Murray smiling unconvincingly and dancing awkwardly while trying to trace out the SBS symbol with sparklers? I personally can’t wait until they start padding shows with ads to make them deliberately run over time like everyone else. Even Channel Ten are goverened by the siren in the footy… unless it’s a delayed telecast.. then all bets are off. Far be it for me to suggest that some telecasts are deliberately delayed to fit in more ads, but with soccer?? As if it’s not bad enough switching over and seeing bloody Idol still going at 8:47 when the TV guide clearly states it ends at 8:30, how about the soccer starting at 7pm and running until 3am, despite being advertised as ending at 10pm! Agggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

You might have gathered, I’m a tad pissed off about this whole “you’re probably too stupid to notice our new advertising regime” debacle, but in the end I know that commercial reality will win out. I know that eventually, all my favourite shows, and my pleasurable, peaceful escape from irritating TV commercials, will be anally raped. All TV programming will revert to the lowest common denonimator, and after a few years, no-one will even notice. Or care.

The inbred, uncontrollable, halfwitted advertising pony has bolted. And we’re all left staring at steaming horse shit. 

Don’t bother trying to clean it up.

You’re just wasting your time. 

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