Damn Good Coffee ... and Hot!

Okay, it is pretty self-evident that the true fuel driving modern American corporate life is caffeine.

Screw all that talk of innovation, inspiration, and dedication. You can get all three in spades with enough joe. After your fifth cup in an hour, you’ll be more inspired, dedicated, and innovative than you could ever imagine. Only nitpickers and the types of swine who took jobs as grammar school hall-monitors seriously will care that the fruits of your innovation, dedication, and inspiration are basically useless gibberish.

The golden rule of business has always been throw the shit against the wall and see if it sticks.

Now, I’ve really only been involved in two subdivisions of the corporate ‘verse (yep, I’m a Browncoat): biotech and Internet, so my range of experience is limited. However, I still feel confident enough in the fact that I am smarter than you (much smarter than most of you) to make an engraved-in-stone conclusion. No industry needs caffeine as much as the Internet. Nope, not yours. Nor yours, Skippy.

And the evidence is everywhere. The fact that each desk is populated with at least three well-stained mugs, or that every conference table has so many coffe-stain rings that they look like modern design masterpieces. It is embodied in the pale, yellowish, gaunt zombies that stagger through the hallways, and the three-times-a-week delivery of bulk pre-packaged coffee from a central supplier.

These are folks who embraced the coffee generation sales pitch as if were chisled into tablets and left for some old geezer who refused to ask directions even though he wandered through a desert for 40 years, obstinantly ignoring the constant stream of “Are we there yet?” and “Are you sure we aren’t lost?” questions.

The thing that gets me, however, is the prevalence of these flavored coffees. You know the kind, they are often given clever marketing names hearkening to some exotic or idyllic ideal, such as Hawaiian Hazelnut, Essence of Vanilla, or Smooth Irish Cream. But when push comes to shove, they all have that over-perfumed, sugar-saturated, syrupy taste that strips whatever sense of coffee they once had.

What sort of person drinks these? Coffee is meant to be coffee, not some pseudo-dessert liqueur. If you like your coffee a bit on the sweet side, add that extra teaspoon of sugar. If you like some double-x chromosome flavor (yes, I am calling you a girly-man), then add some of that artificially developed chemical goo. But playing Frankenstein with coffee is just wrong.

You may have a contrary opinion about this. I respect that. But, of course, you are wrong. Accept it, I already have.

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The Age of Fear

So, it’s been a while, eh? I know, you all missed me terribly – at least the two of you who do still occasionally drop by. Thanks for that. Loyalty like yours will be rewarded, but then again it is its own reward, so it doesn’t really mean much.

How can I say something like that? Well, first off, I live in the time of Bush II, where loyalty means compulsory unquestioning obedience and slavish acquiescence to authority. Second, I’ve also worked for several major corporations, where loyalty (at least their loyalty to employees) is essentially a four-letter word.

Yeah, I know a thing or two about loyalty, Scooter. The only loyal thing in life is your dog, and even they can be swayed by a stranger with some particularly aromatic meat.

Mmmm … aromatic meat!

Loyalty, like any other commodity, can be bought and sold – and usually on the cheap. The “what have you done for me lately” school of thought is definitely in swing. Or, maybe rapidly shifting allegiance is due to the fact that people are easily manipulated by slick-talking hucksters who promise that bigger and better is just around the corner. Nah, that can’t be it. If that were the case Prince George wouldn’t be destroying the country with his second term. That slimy bastard won through fear and intimidation. Don’t believe me? Then tell me how many times since the election have we had any announcements of terror alerts changing the color from ochre to mauve.

Yeah, that’s what I thought. The currency of loyalty is fear and horror. You don’t stay at your job because you like it, or because you are being treated so well, you stay because you fear unemployment. If someone came along with an offer paying you 5% more, you’d leave. Andyou idiots voted for Bush because you believed those insipid lies about how the other guy would immediately put us in danger.

Maybe that’s the true legacy of Bush II: bringing us The Age of Fear. Today we compare things on the negative, and go with what or who promises the swiftest, most painless death. The future? Screw the future, we are suffering in the now. How can I worry about how bad it will be tomorrow when I am concerned with surviving today.

No wonder TV is filled with advertisements of pharmaceutical bliss.

Good grief, I need a beer.

Ook ook.

PS: Yeah, I know, this made no sense. So what. Despite the protestations of others who desperately want to believe there is something of substance to blogging, it really is little more than public onanism. So, excuse me for indulging myself.

More Bushit

ABC News and the Washington post broke this small story about how our idiot boy-king went on Polish television in 2003 and proudly proclaimed that the US had uncovered proof of Iraq’s biological weapon program in the form of a couple of trailers.

The problem was, the trailers weren’t mobile bio-weapons labs. And the folks in the field sent in a report saying as much. Oh, and the idiot boy-king made his brash statement two days after that report had reached Washington.

So, the question is, did Bush lie yet again?

According to his mouthpiece, Scott McClellan, the answer is a resounding no. He claims that our intrepid idiot boy-king was basing his proclamation of proof on some CIA & DIA documents, which were issued by some folks who didn’t really get a chance to look over the trailers.

So, for the moment, let’s assume that McClellan is correct, and that Prince George didn’t knowingly lie. What does that prove?

Well, it certainly confirms Bush is probably one of the most inept and incompetent leaders that ever sat his ass in the oval office. Think about it, he went on TV and triumphantly stated as fact that his fear mongering about Iraq’s WMDs had been vindicated, even if it hadn’t. And he did so (and here is the clincher), before he had all the facts.

Let that sink in. Bush was willing to go in front of the world and start talking about things before he knew whether what he would say was true or not. And it's not like he had to wait all that long - the trailers were being further evaluated as he was inserting foot into mouth.

While that may not be lying, it certainly falls under the umbrella of being misleading. And absolutely irresponsible.

No one in any other job could get away with that sort of shit. Could you, in whatever job you have, be able to tell co-workers, your boss, your customer, stockholders, etc, something as if it were fact before you knew for sure? That is called making an assumption. No mechanic would state as fact that your car’s bad performance of late was due to a burnt out sparkplug before checking. No plumber would say your poor water pressure was due to a cracked pipe before looking. And no banker would approve a loan before doing an account check.

So why is it okay for the president to go off and continually make these embarrassing and costly statements before he has all the facts?

And the worst part is how quick his sycophantic worshippers are to apologize for him.

They must be getting really tired by now.

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Two Week Notice

The conference room in which the meeting was held was small … only able to seat about six comfortably, but that was okay, because there were only two of us present. Well, three, but the third was there via video link from New York.

Technology: it’s an amazing thing.

We were supposed to start at 10am, but it had rained that morning, and as anyone who’s ever tried to drive in LA after/during a rain knows, that means traffic was snarled because of hysteria, panic, and insanity. I guess it’s something in the water falling from the skies. Maybe people think it’s the rapture.

Anyway, even the comfortable 45 minutes I gave myself to make the 20 mile drive now seemed like a gross underestimation. Particularly since I had been in the car for almost 30 minutes, and still had about 15 miles to go. I called the geek in HR, and broke the news to him.

“Phil, it’s The Monkey. I think I may be a bit late.”
”Oh.” Phil had an undertone in his voice that hinted he wanted to say more. More along the lines of: “You asshole. You’ve known about this meeting for a week, and you also know we’re setting up a link with a VP in New York. You expect us all to just accommodate you because you fucked up your commute?”

Instead, he just paused and asked, “How late do you think?”

Oh, did I mention this meeting was an interview for a job? Not a great way to start, calling and telling the Executive VP that you are going to be a little late.

Still, for some reason, I wasn’t flustered. I just told him it would be 15 minutes longer than expected. Good thing I wasn’t on video link, or my crossed fingers and rolling eyes may have worked against me. Besides, what did I care? It wasn’t like I needed this job, since I was already employed.

I arrived, shook hands, did the polite intro, and was hustled into the conference room.

Now, we've all been on job interviews, and know they can be stressful. You feel as if you’re being tested and measured and judged, and with good reason, because you are. You half expect to be asked to show your teeth, have your vertical leap measured, and pee into a cup. But, still, this time I didn’t feel nervous. Almost the opposite. There was a sense of boredom that filled me. Oddly, somewhere between my sending in my resume and being called for the interview, the dynamic had shifted to where I was the one evaluating them. After all, they called me in, which meant there must be something about me they desire.

I knew the job was mine in the first five minutes. The department director began by telling me how impressive my resume was, and how perfectly my skill-set seemed to match their needs. The VP followed by telling me he was blown away by my writing samples. For the next two hours we talked. There were only a few questions regarding my background and experience, with the most intense moment coming when the department director handed me a printout of some of their current web content, asking me to look it over and give my analysis. After a few minutes I handed it back and gave my evaluation:
The page was poorly written, and too verbose. The content flowed poorly, was occasionally confusing, the layout was counterintuitive, and the voice was too formal for the intent.

They were impressed. But hey, it’s what I do. I am, after all, a professional.

From that point most of the questions were better suited for sitting outside having a pitcher of beer and a basket of onion rings.

We talked about sports (the VP was a hockey guy), different parts of the world (they loved my stories about camping in the Baja), and compared fresh vs. salt water fishing. I asked some “big picture” questions regarding the company’s goals and directions, offering opinion and suggestion. I dropped Simpsons references which made the VP laugh. It was just three guys talking, so you know nothing of importance was said.

When I got home, there was a message on my answering machine. It was the geek from HR asking me to call him. I start in two weeks. I will be earning over $10,000 more a year and have a fuller benefits package. My commute will be cut in half.

Now all I have to do is tell my current boss. She doesn’t even know I’ve been looking. That will be fun.

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The Latest Cell Phone Accessory

So, a month ago or so, Swedish researchers apparently discovered a significant link between cell phone use and brain tumors.

The study, which looked at data from over 2,000 patients with brain tumors, found that individuals who "heavily used wireless phones [sic]" had a 240 per cent higher probability of developing a brain tumor on the side of the head where they most often used their phone than those who didn't fall into that cohort.

Hmmm ... heavy cell phone use and brain tumors. That goes a long way toward explaining the jackholes and retards on the roads here in LA.

The thing that caught my attention is how this is presented as somehow a bad thing. Think about this for a moment: which segment of the population tends to use cell phones at an extreme level? Hollywood agents, marketing geeks, prima donnas, Paris Hilton, blabbering fashionistas, idiot teenagers, slick salesmen, and the sort of tragically-hip poseurs and trendsters that developed a market for hair gel and wrinkle cream for men.

Seems to me losing these folks to brain tumors is a fair cop.

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