LowComDom Performances Presents
The Crapolla According to Fek'Lar
You Know You're DOOMED When...
just for a moment, Bill O'Reilly makes sense.
You've stumbled onto another issue of The Crapolla, a journal written for software professionals. No not the managers; I mean the people who do the work.
This Crapolla is sponsored by...
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In This Issue...
Indian Wrap Up!
It's amazing how many people are employed by the hotel just to wish me a good morning. If a hotel employee spots you, they are required to greet you. Even the guy who opens my car door salutes me as I enter. This level of butt kissing could go to one's head.
A student asked me how long I have been working.
"You mean at WTHAIS, or altogether?"
His mouth dropped. I heard gasps from others in the room.
Damn! I'm an old fart! No wonder I keep screaming at those kids to get off my lawn.
India doesn't need to worry that George the Second is going to discover WMD's here. It doesn't matter that India has The Bomb, the US will never attack, here's why.
They have our stuff.
You send in the Marines, and everything gets posted to the internet.
Think about this. If India started dumping our data, medical records, bank accounts, insurance policies, etc. onto the net where anyone can get it, that's just enough to put the stock market into a tumble. If there's one thing Wall Street lives in fear of, it's uncertainty.
This globalization idea should promote global stability. But this is the "safe" thinking that ruled Europe before WWI. All of the royal families of Europe were inter-married in an attempt to build stability. But the war ended up having huge family squabble under-tones. WWI was a terrible war that most people can't explain. Globalization could trigger another such war.
So don't mess with these guys. They have our stuff.
When I flew to Bangalore, I mentioned I flew with the Luftwaffe. I brought three laptops, a PDA, and my Canon Digital Rebel Bazooka. I also brought some clothes. The woman at the check out counter told me I was 25 kilos over on the baggage allowance.
I informed the woman that I was an American standing on American soil. Since I had never made a drug deal, I did not know what a kilo was. But I did know where this was going and asked how much it was going to cost.
I've been to several countries. 6 to be exact. Every country I travel to is on the metric system. I wonder why we are not.
Back in the 70's (before you were born) the U.S. of A. tried to go metric, but screwed the pooch. The mileage signs on the freeway would give you both standard and metric. But there was no hard cut over so no one took it seriously. We're still on standard.
For the most part, metric is easier. A kilometer is a thousand meters. Walk it once, drive it once, and you've got it. Half a kilometer is 500, easy. The only part of the metric system I can't get behind is the centigrade temperature gauge. Since it is less precise than Fahrenheit, I don't see the point. But liters are far easier than gallons, quarts and pints any day. We should switch.
Back in the U.S. I have a WTHAIS company cell phone. I'm on call 24/7/365. I only turn it off at the movies. I've told the Twinkee that if she can't deal without me for two hours, I need a lot more money.
Chi is a type of tea, mixed with milk. I don't really drink tea that much, but I've really gotten into the Chi at work. I asked Pradeep why the tea here is so much better.
"Because we invented it."
Today I've had ten cups of Chi. I'm wired beyond belief. I'm going to miss this when I get home. If Starbucks has Chi, I doubt they prepare it the same way. Chi is boiled for a very long time and then mixed with hot milk and boiled some more. Then it is poured from pan to pan through at least two feet of open air. I don't know why any of this is done, but the end result is great.
My students have all graduated. My task is done. My relief, Fang, has arrived.
Fang is Korean. As I introduced him today, the class stood, bowed, and said, "Konichiwa, Fang-san."
"Uh, I'm not from that part of Asia."
Tomorrow, people will present their digital cameras to him, asking that he explain the correct usage. Later, they will start asking about Sumo. It's my parting shot as I jump on the giant sardine can to go home.
The wallet is nice, and I really needed a new one, but the cookie jar is actually quite special. There's an entire class of worker here who bring drinks and other consumables around to the people who are working. Pradeep, knowing of my sweet tooth, had cookies brought to me twice a day with my Diet Coke. The cookie jar will always remind me of the good time I had in India.
Tomorrow, the class receives their t-shirts. Then I head for the airport for the complementary strip search and cavity check.
I've enjoyed India. One thing I haven't mentioned is that whether I was at work, or on the road, Indians have always treated me as an honored guest. Not just the people from the company I'm visiting, who see me as a paying client, but others who had no financial stake in me. People have invited me to their houses for meals, driven me to palaces, and temples, and have helped negotiate prices. Indian hospitality is second to none in my book.
It's been a good trip.
Fed Chairman Says, "Money Key to Wealth!"
Secretary of Health Says Washing the Key to Clean Hands!
Heard in the halls of various software companies.
"Nobody ever got rich doing the right thing."
"I'm going to take the rest of the week off, which means instead of people yelling at me here, they yell at me there."
"We need a contractor who will just work and not socialize all the time. Send me someone with scurvy."
"What is that? 'Jenny Craig Beef Jerky'?"
"I'm doing your job, and you're bitching at me. What's wrong with this picture?"
I've got to get in line for the strip search.
They pay me to think. These are my thoughts. Do you think they are getting their money's worth?
Remember: The Crapolla contains my personal opinions. That's right they're mine, so get your own! And you kids get off my lawn!
Although written with the software professional in mind, my mind tends to wander all over the place, and I sometimes write about politics, mass stoopidity, dumb things I saw, and whatever else comes to mind.
From time to time, I use salty language, thus The Crapolla is not intended for children, or certain people in the Bush Administration.
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