Call that choice?
Popped into the voting booth tonight. What a choice, vote for New Nanny labour - nope, they need a rocket up their arse. Vote for "Howards Way - We don't quite know what to think of Europe" Tories - I'd rather eat a freshly laid dog turd. UKIP - racism dressed as patriotism - if this lot ever get in I'm off to live in the United Sates of Europe, with lower interest rates, better life style, more sun etc etc. Nah, I like a single malt and so does Charlie Kennedy apparently, plus he seems a decent bloke, so the Lib Dems got my local and Europe vote. Not much of a choice, but I still hold with the view that a crap choice is better than none, and my guess is most others, especially those who have lived under dictatorships would agree.
Assignement news - I have managed to write 1456 words so far! Only about 500 to go to be in or around the required 2000 word mark. Sometimes I amaze myself.
Fancy being outraged? Read this Telegraph article and tell me this isn't the sign of a society gone fucking mad. If I was this bloke I would sue the police. As far as I can see he was merely carrying out the same effect as a speed camera. How the fuck can the police and magistrates call this an offence? The offence is that this sort of utterly fucked up collage of bollocks is completely allowed in the so called great country of ours. If this doesn't convince you of the fact that speeding arrests are a revenue raising exercise then nothing will. As Littlejohn might say (fat wanker though he is)..you couldn't make it up.
Later, Grocerjack
Thursday, 10 June 2004
Wednesday, 9 June 2004
The End of the course...
Hmmm, having just read Crox's page I would like to assure everyone that my life is not all holidays and courses! I'm afraid this one and the one in July are necessary evils if I want to stay employed for a while longer, or be more employable should the ever present company issue Sword of Damocles hit the target.
The kids have finally gone home now. Maybe they all need some sleep after the stresses of the last 3 days (sic). One actually paid me a compliment of sorts today along the lines of "I was so glad we had someone here who deals with this stuff, it has made it much clearer". Thats either nice , or patronising an oldie! Anyway, I expect they're all out clubbing, drinking alcopops, snorting Coke or dropping E's as an end of course steam letting session.
Strangely I got to like some of them in a paternal sort of way.
Baby had a summer concert last night at her school, which lost me 2 valuable hours of study. But she is a great little singer and really puts emotion into it. It made the heart strings go just watching her and seeing her smile back at me. The concert finished off with her music teachers Irish Folk band coming and doing a few numbers. Great fun, but it would be significantly enhanced if Guinness had been avaiable. In fact a bar would have upped the proportion of parents willing to join in the songs. Thanks to my Irish parentage I did know most of the songs. When we got outside baby had a nosebleed which lasted for nearly an hour. She got very upset and shaky as this is the worst she's had.She has inherited my hayfever and I put it down to that tempered with her excitement at doing the concert. As you may be able to tell, I would wrap her in cotton wool if I could! Teenager is still stroppy, with an alarming increase in "blonde moments". She is very close to me limiting her internet MSN times, and limiting her mobile usage. She does think she is an adult, but then when she was ill the other day (now a monthly occurence), one can see the confusion between the child and near adult and then I do really feel for her. Its awkward for boys, but for girls it must seem like torture at times.
This week is now dedicated to my next assignment due on Saturday
Assess the following conditional claim: “If the Standard Social Science Model is mistaken, then we are less altruistic than would otherwise be the case”
God help me (although if Darwin is to be believed, he can't, because he doesn't exist!)
Later, Grocerjack
Hmmm, having just read Crox's page I would like to assure everyone that my life is not all holidays and courses! I'm afraid this one and the one in July are necessary evils if I want to stay employed for a while longer, or be more employable should the ever present company issue Sword of Damocles hit the target.
The kids have finally gone home now. Maybe they all need some sleep after the stresses of the last 3 days (sic). One actually paid me a compliment of sorts today along the lines of "I was so glad we had someone here who deals with this stuff, it has made it much clearer". Thats either nice , or patronising an oldie! Anyway, I expect they're all out clubbing, drinking alcopops, snorting Coke or dropping E's as an end of course steam letting session.
Strangely I got to like some of them in a paternal sort of way.
Baby had a summer concert last night at her school, which lost me 2 valuable hours of study. But she is a great little singer and really puts emotion into it. It made the heart strings go just watching her and seeing her smile back at me. The concert finished off with her music teachers Irish Folk band coming and doing a few numbers. Great fun, but it would be significantly enhanced if Guinness had been avaiable. In fact a bar would have upped the proportion of parents willing to join in the songs. Thanks to my Irish parentage I did know most of the songs. When we got outside baby had a nosebleed which lasted for nearly an hour. She got very upset and shaky as this is the worst she's had.She has inherited my hayfever and I put it down to that tempered with her excitement at doing the concert. As you may be able to tell, I would wrap her in cotton wool if I could! Teenager is still stroppy, with an alarming increase in "blonde moments". She is very close to me limiting her internet MSN times, and limiting her mobile usage. She does think she is an adult, but then when she was ill the other day (now a monthly occurence), one can see the confusion between the child and near adult and then I do really feel for her. Its awkward for boys, but for girls it must seem like torture at times.
This week is now dedicated to my next assignment due on Saturday
Assess the following conditional claim: “If the Standard Social Science Model is mistaken, then we are less altruistic than would otherwise be the case”
God help me (although if Darwin is to be believed, he can't, because he doesn't exist!)
Later, Grocerjack
Tuesday, 8 June 2004
This weeks work of Art (an occasional addition to the blog) - I and The Village by Marc Chagall (1887-1985), painted in 1911,oil on canvas. What hits me is the colour and "wholeness" of the picture. Like he has captured the whole village in one non-conformist cubist rectangle. This is held at The Museum of Modern Art in New York - I will see this one day. Chagall is renowned for his distinctive use of color and form, which is derived partly from Russian expressionism and was allegedly influenced decisively by French cubism.
A sea of gormless faces
Oh dear, I hear the sounds of bubbles being burst as the "kids" in my Kindergarten class suddenly realise what a dull old piece of shit Project Management is. I think they saw a glamourous role, one of motivating people, picking teams, driving the project, being the hub of all the activities, making decisions, controlling budgets, analysing risk...which is what it should be, but within The Company it is no more than a glorified admin/secretary role. It is a role of no power, no influence, with no glamour or credit. Project Managers are universally hated because they do not actually manage projects. They annoy and harass people, they use the words "I'll escalate..." near enough every hour, they drop the CEO's name in at every opportunity to try and scare people into prioritising their project...yeah like he gives a shit that X can connect to Y to provide a test platform!. They cannot or will not report bad things to the Project Board.The team I had hated them to a man/woman. I have personally saved too many Project Managers necks whilst risking my own.
So why am I doing the course? Job preservation.....if I get the (almost universally accepted) accreditation then if and when the axe falls its a ready made job in any other organisation...yep its dull, but it'll keep the wolves from the door until I decide what the full future career is for me. I may not fit The Company's view of what a Project manager should be (because I am argumentative, not pushed around, speak my mind, think as an individual and am not a yes man) but I'll bullshit,lie and grovel to get a job in another company in order to keep earning enough money to keep Jack's lifestyle roughly where it is now. And I've worked with enough shit Project Managers to know exactly how to be a fucking good one!
And yes, that probably does make me a hyprocritical, underhand , conniving, cheating and lying bastard....but I'll just put that down to male genetic programming (thanks Charlie Darwin)
Just one more day with the blank tableau minds and gormless faces that are the kids on the course and then back to my normal life.
Later , Grocerjack
Oh dear, I hear the sounds of bubbles being burst as the "kids" in my Kindergarten class suddenly realise what a dull old piece of shit Project Management is. I think they saw a glamourous role, one of motivating people, picking teams, driving the project, being the hub of all the activities, making decisions, controlling budgets, analysing risk...which is what it should be, but within The Company it is no more than a glorified admin/secretary role. It is a role of no power, no influence, with no glamour or credit. Project Managers are universally hated because they do not actually manage projects. They annoy and harass people, they use the words "I'll escalate..." near enough every hour, they drop the CEO's name in at every opportunity to try and scare people into prioritising their project...yeah like he gives a shit that X can connect to Y to provide a test platform!. They cannot or will not report bad things to the Project Board.The team I had hated them to a man/woman. I have personally saved too many Project Managers necks whilst risking my own.
So why am I doing the course? Job preservation.....if I get the (almost universally accepted) accreditation then if and when the axe falls its a ready made job in any other organisation...yep its dull, but it'll keep the wolves from the door until I decide what the full future career is for me. I may not fit The Company's view of what a Project manager should be (because I am argumentative, not pushed around, speak my mind, think as an individual and am not a yes man) but I'll bullshit,lie and grovel to get a job in another company in order to keep earning enough money to keep Jack's lifestyle roughly where it is now. And I've worked with enough shit Project Managers to know exactly how to be a fucking good one!
And yes, that probably does make me a hyprocritical, underhand , conniving, cheating and lying bastard....but I'll just put that down to male genetic programming (thanks Charlie Darwin)
Just one more day with the blank tableau minds and gormless faces that are the kids on the course and then back to my normal life.
Later , Grocerjack
Monday, 7 June 2004
How to feel old……
Step 1:
Book yourself onto a Project Management Foundations course
Step 2:
Walk into the room where the course is being held
Step 3:
Find familiar face and sit next to them. Chat for 5 minutes until he realises he is in the wrong room. Swear internally.
Step 4:
Gaze around room; allow heart to sink as everyone else is so obviously young. Note the number of people with weird piercing’s in eyebrows, upper ear lobes, bottom lip. Note vacant expressions on their faces
Step 5:
Look to instructor, again let heart sink as you realise it’s a Salman Rushdie clone. But he’s at least 50
Step 6:
Die a little more as the introductions are done, including age!
Step 7:
Be mortified as you hear this (abridged to cut the usual crap and names changed to protect the thick)
Screamer : Hi , I’m Screamer and I’m 26 (upper ear lobe pierced…twice)
Y viva Espana: Hi, I’m Y Viva Espana, and I am 24 (very deep Spanish accent, but gorgeous young bird- forgiven)
Ignoramous: Hi. I’m Ignoramous, and I am 30. I was sent here for development (like it’s a fucking stretch in choky)
Timid: Hi, I’m Timid (speak up you wuss) and I’m 26 (unless you get more assertive you’ll probably die of fright next time a Daddy Longlegs flies in the room)
Punk : Hi, I’m Punk and I’m Twenty fucking Two (Ok, I added the fucking bit there, but it’s pissing me off - eyebrow and lip pierced, possibly brain stem as well)
And so on, 6 more times, with ages ranging from 23 to 27
Jack (thinks) : Please let me fucking die now, no personalities, no brains, all think their great, all are going to be so sadly let down as they grow older….cynical…moi?
Jack (says) : Hi, I’m Jack and I’m 42………
Jack (thinks) : Why are they smiling? Couldn’t at least one of them shake their head in disbelief?
Salman : Ok, I’m Salman and I’m 43 ……..
Jack (thinks): fuck me I can’t look that bad….why is he looking at me? Oh god he thinks we’re “age buddies”…how shit is your luck?
I have another 2 days of this torture. No word of a lie, it’s like being at Kindergarten. If anyone ever says age makes no difference……..THEY ARE EITHER DELUDED, STUPID, BARKING or SAD, possibly all four, but they are also VERY, VERY WRONG
Later, Grocerjack
Step 1:
Book yourself onto a Project Management Foundations course
Step 2:
Walk into the room where the course is being held
Step 3:
Find familiar face and sit next to them. Chat for 5 minutes until he realises he is in the wrong room. Swear internally.
Step 4:
Gaze around room; allow heart to sink as everyone else is so obviously young. Note the number of people with weird piercing’s in eyebrows, upper ear lobes, bottom lip. Note vacant expressions on their faces
Step 5:
Look to instructor, again let heart sink as you realise it’s a Salman Rushdie clone. But he’s at least 50
Step 6:
Die a little more as the introductions are done, including age!
Step 7:
Be mortified as you hear this (abridged to cut the usual crap and names changed to protect the thick)
Screamer : Hi , I’m Screamer and I’m 26 (upper ear lobe pierced…twice)
Y viva Espana: Hi, I’m Y Viva Espana, and I am 24 (very deep Spanish accent, but gorgeous young bird- forgiven)
Ignoramous: Hi. I’m Ignoramous, and I am 30. I was sent here for development (like it’s a fucking stretch in choky)
Timid: Hi, I’m Timid (speak up you wuss) and I’m 26 (unless you get more assertive you’ll probably die of fright next time a Daddy Longlegs flies in the room)
Punk : Hi, I’m Punk and I’m Twenty fucking Two (Ok, I added the fucking bit there, but it’s pissing me off - eyebrow and lip pierced, possibly brain stem as well)
And so on, 6 more times, with ages ranging from 23 to 27
Jack (thinks) : Please let me fucking die now, no personalities, no brains, all think their great, all are going to be so sadly let down as they grow older….cynical…moi?
Jack (says) : Hi, I’m Jack and I’m 42………
Jack (thinks) : Why are they smiling? Couldn’t at least one of them shake their head in disbelief?
Salman : Ok, I’m Salman and I’m 43 ……..
Jack (thinks): fuck me I can’t look that bad….why is he looking at me? Oh god he thinks we’re “age buddies”…how shit is your luck?
I have another 2 days of this torture. No word of a lie, it’s like being at Kindergarten. If anyone ever says age makes no difference……..THEY ARE EITHER DELUDED, STUPID, BARKING or SAD, possibly all four, but they are also VERY, VERY WRONG
Later, Grocerjack
Friday, 4 June 2004
Thursday, 3 June 2004
Its ...Oh so quiet....
Yep, its been a good week, batteries are fully recharged. The house has been deadly quiet, I've kept it tidy and my studies are almost back on schedule (with a few skipped corners.....natch). Things is when it's like this my whole demeanour just settles down and so I have not posted. Although this may be partly due to the copious amounts of Guinness drunk each night!! My golf has also improved from Spain, with a course ripping 92 (well ripping for me - a net 4 under par after the handicap)at The Meon Valley Country Club (or The Marriott as it really is) and a 95 on my home course which is even par. Encouraging, and maybe to do with the fact I have been so relaxed this week. Of course normal chaos returns tomorrow and this weekend we have been invited to barbecues on both days.
A quick thought though........wouldn't it be great if we all stopped buying petrol and diesel for a few days and refused to travel to work on the basis that we couldn't afford it. I'm totally in favour of civil disobedience over this kind of thing. The French have done it for years because they still have balls whilst we lie on our backs and let the government and the big corporations shaft us. And don't even get me on the Nannying over obesity. Yep, we'll eat organic, healthy food when it's as cheap to buy and easy to get hold of as crap fast food. At the moment that choice is limited, we have less hours in the day to ourselves, no local stores any more, so daily shopping for fresh stuff doesn't appear viable. Again, go to France, where food is taken seriously - most supermarkets have 1 aisle for frozen food, all the rest is fresh. They shop each day because they have shops with fresh and cheap food, and they don't work 14 hour days because it is seen as something honourable, it is part of their culture, they take eating seriously, and they make it a family occasion. When was the last time most of us sat down and ate as a family?
Later, Grocerjack
Yep, its been a good week, batteries are fully recharged. The house has been deadly quiet, I've kept it tidy and my studies are almost back on schedule (with a few skipped corners.....natch). Things is when it's like this my whole demeanour just settles down and so I have not posted. Although this may be partly due to the copious amounts of Guinness drunk each night!! My golf has also improved from Spain, with a course ripping 92 (well ripping for me - a net 4 under par after the handicap)at The Meon Valley Country Club (or The Marriott as it really is) and a 95 on my home course which is even par. Encouraging, and maybe to do with the fact I have been so relaxed this week. Of course normal chaos returns tomorrow and this weekend we have been invited to barbecues on both days.
A quick thought though........wouldn't it be great if we all stopped buying petrol and diesel for a few days and refused to travel to work on the basis that we couldn't afford it. I'm totally in favour of civil disobedience over this kind of thing. The French have done it for years because they still have balls whilst we lie on our backs and let the government and the big corporations shaft us. And don't even get me on the Nannying over obesity. Yep, we'll eat organic, healthy food when it's as cheap to buy and easy to get hold of as crap fast food. At the moment that choice is limited, we have less hours in the day to ourselves, no local stores any more, so daily shopping for fresh stuff doesn't appear viable. Again, go to France, where food is taken seriously - most supermarkets have 1 aisle for frozen food, all the rest is fresh. They shop each day because they have shops with fresh and cheap food, and they don't work 14 hour days because it is seen as something honourable, it is part of their culture, they take eating seriously, and they make it a family occasion. When was the last time most of us sat down and ate as a family?
Later, Grocerjack
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