There's something wrong with my brain
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
As I drove home today, I spotted a sign that said "COMPUTER POLTERGEIST?" After a double-take I realized that it actually said "problems" not "poltergeist".
There's something wrong with my brain. Need time away from cubicle.
But you know, a computer poltergeist would really explain some of the strange problems I've had with Windows.  Cubey Terra
0 comments
Toiling in darkness
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
I'm convinced that there's a law of nature that causes several deadlines to coincide whenever the weather becomes sunny and warm. If you ever see me in the daylight, wear sunglasses to protect yourself from the glare off my sickly, pallid skin. Cubey Terra
0 comments
AAAAAAaaaaaaaa!!!!!
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Over at Geese Aplenty, Greg has announced that he's going skydiving. I'm so very jealous. I went skydiving only once about ten years ago, but haven't had the chance to try it again.
If there's anyone in the Vancouver area who would like to go skydiving, drop me a line at eol@endofline.ca. It's a little pricey, but if you survive, you'll really enjoy it. I mean, you'll enjoy it in any case, but you'll probably enjoy it longer if you... um...
I'm not really selling this idea very well, am I? Cubey Terra
0 comments
The Return of Doctor Destructo
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
After a minor technical glitch in which everything was deleted, Dr. Destructo and the Blog of AAAAA!!! is back. There's not much to see yet, but I'm sure Destructo will add new material soon. Cubey Terra
0 comments
An ickle contest
Monday, April 28, 2003
Over at Ickle Fiction, where Treefen is kicking the blogday festivities up a notch (BAM!), a contest is underway. The goal is to write a complete scene in 300 words or less that's "loss-of-bladder-control funny". Also, the scene has to include the words "ickle", "solipsistic", and "verisimilitude".
Well, I gave it a shot, but I'm not happy with it. It's diuretic qualities are pretty feeble actually. Here it is. As Dave stood there in his bathrobe and woolly socks, it occurred to him that he was inappropriately dressed for the occasion. It also occurred to him, as the doorbell rang for the second time, that maybe he should have remembered that his mother-in-law, Greta, was stopping by for brunch today. And after a moment of quiet reflection, he then wondered if he was a little too smelly to answer the door.
This, he decided, was a problem.
He stood.
As he stood, an ickle caterpillar inched its way across the window.
A bead of sweat grew on his forehead.
He didn?t as much mind being seen in his robe as being seen in Greta?s robe. His wife had borrowed it from her not long ago, and Dave, having misplaced his own robe, slipped it on for just a moment.
Well, he thought. This, surely, is proof of the non-validity of a solipsistic worldview.
The hall clock ticked.
In the distance, a dog barked.
It occurred to him that he?d seen situations like this on the TV, but had doubted their verisimilitude. He had no doubt now.
A floorboard creaked under his foot.
The cat meowed by his leg.
The bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and lodged itself in his left eye, making him blink lop-sidedly for a moment.
Now, he considered, would be a good time to do something.
As the doorbell rang again, he threw himself into action. And in moments, he was prepared.
?Come in? it?s open!? he called, with as much jaunty laissé-faire as he could muster.
?Good morning, Dave,? Greta said as she entered. ?It?s so nice to see? OH!?
A startled silence fell, in which Dave could hear the caterpillar munching on a leaf.
?Good God, Dave. What are you doing to that cat? Is it wearing my bathrobe?? Cubey Terra
0 comments
Cloud gazing
Monday, April 28, 2003
It's a gloriously sunny day here in Vancouver. As I look out my window, the only cloud in the sky is a line of puffy cumulus over the ridge of the North Shore mountains. I look at that and think to myself, That's a fine example of adiabatic cooling.
I'm so glad I took that introductory course on meteorology. Cubey Terra
0 comments
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
Monday, April 28, 2003
Specifically, my bootless cries are something like this: "Ow!", "Argh!", "Aaa!!"
Today, for the first time in... well, a very long time... I'm wearing shoes. Ordinarily I wear boots. Today, however, I am without boots. Bootless, you might even say.
They just weren't fashionable anymore. The days of Doc Martens have come and gone, but I stuck with them, just because they were so comfey. But now I can't continue... Docs are no longer sold in Canada. It's a tragedy for fashion holdbacks like me.
Today I'm wearing a new pair of shoes. They hurt my feet. And my ankes feel so naked. Worse still, now I have to make sure that I wear the right colour of socks, whatever that is.
Terrible.
Oh Docs, why have you forsaken me? Cubey Terra
0 comments
Death and taxes
Saturday, April 26, 2003
Of the two, I'm currently doing my taxes, but I'll let you know if that changes. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Working down on the wharf
Friday, April 25, 2003
Since my first foray into the job market as a teen, I've had several different jobs. The arrival of warm weather at this time of year always reminds me of my first job. For a few months, I worked on the wharfs in Steveston, BC. No, I wasn't working the fishing boats, mending nets, or moving cargo. I was a fry-guy at the wharfside floating fish-and-chips stand.
The shop had hired a couple of fry-guys each summer to help maintain the supply of the "chips" part of their fish-and-chips business. With the help of Chris, the other fry-guy, I'd carry hundred-pound bags of potatoes from the shed, down the ramp, and into the side of the shop, which was built as a houseboat and tied up to the wharf. It wasn't a fun job, exactly, but there were perks — like the fact that Chris and I were the only guys who worked there.
Beyond that fact, the job had few redeeming qualities. The inside of the shop was an oven under the summer sun as I carted the sacks of potatoes inside. I'd load them into the peeling machine, then unload the peeled potatoes by the chopper and manually produce hundreds of thousands of raw potato sticks. Mechanically, I'd work through the batches of peeled potatoes: - Lift lever.
- Insert single potato.
- Pull lever down.
- Watch raw potato sticks fall into bucket.
- Repeat until arm falls off.
As you can imagine, it was so completely dull that I almost went insane.
Thankfully I didn't, due in part to the exciting arrival of the Bad Potatoes. From time to time, I'd find a sack that smelled a little off, and when I opened it, I discovered not only brown, mushy potatoes, but little wriggling things too. Those potatoes had definitely gone to the Dark Side.
Nonetheless, the owner asked me to carefully remove the ones that were obviously rotten, and throw the rest into the peeling machine, which would most likely take care of the maggots and the eggs. And it did take care of it, I think. At lunch, I'd unhesitatingly put in my order and relax in a shady spot, munching my de-maggotted chips.
The process of peeling, chipping, and washing continued endlessly. Occasionally, Chris and I would work at the same time. Because we were both involved in drama in our high school, we quickly made a performance out of the job. I'd stand by the peeler and he'd stand by the chipper. As a potato came out of the peeler, I'd fling it across the kitchen, where Chris would catch it and chip it. Soon we had tourists peering in the kitchen door to watch the show, which continued with rave reviews until one of my potatoes unexpectedly collided with a chashier's face. The manager closed the show immediately.
That was back in the eighties. Since then, I think they have moved away from the wharf to a nearby park. Business is booming. I'm unsure of whether or not they ever changed their potato supplier. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Archives restored
Friday, April 25, 2003
In case anyone's interested, I've reposted the archives and other pages from before I moved to endofline.ca. You can find them under the "odds" and "ends" links on your left.
cheerio and toodle-pip Cubey Terra
0 comments
Bev: non-fiction reader
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Not very long ago, I was driving home from a play with my friend, Bev, and the subject of books came up. We compared what we had read recently. I'd read a novel by Michael Ondaatje and a collection of science fiction stories by Larry Niven. Bev had read a book about DHTML and an autobiography by a retired polititian.
"No fiction?" I asked, innocently, and she gave me a strange look.
"No," Bev said and gave a tiny derisive snort that I might have missed if I didn't know her so well.
"Ah," I temporized. "So you haven't read any novels recently?"
There was a bit of a silence, in which I thought that I might have been better off letting the point go.
"I don't read novels," she explained. "I pretty much just read books that are about something."
My mind boggled, then balked. Then it strained and stumbled for a couple of moments before accidentally becoming completely gummed up with the foolishness of the words she'd just uttered.
"You..." I faltered. "You... don't read any fiction?"
That had been unwise. Now she was genuinely irritated with me and said, "I read lots. Magazines. Books. I bet I read more than you do."
"But no fiction?"
"No! What do you get out of novels anyway? You can't learn anything."
What could I possibly say to that? Yes, she was correct in that she probably reads more than I do. I never stop at the news stand for a copy of GQ. I don't buy newspapers (although I read one online). I rarely buy how-to books.
But to say that you can't learn anything... How can anyone read a novel and not learn from it? The lessons to be learned from fiction are more important than coding with DHTML or how Pierre Trudeau got along (or didn't get along) with the American president. Fiction allows you to think beyond the limitations of the real and explore the impossible and the imaginary. Fiction allows you to touch the spiritual and the whimsical at the same time. And even when it's sometimes in the form of a ripping good tale of adventure, it takes you away from your miserable routine and gives you unlimited room to think and live.
So while Bev learns how to make interactive web pages, I'm learning how to put a crippled spaceship into orbit around a Jovian moon using nothing but water as propellant. I'll leave it up to you to decide which is more useful. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Oil and water
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Technical writing is about clarity; marketing copy writing is about obfuscation.
Mixing of the two will lead to widespread panic, packs of roving hamsters, destruction of property, impaired judgement, and irritable writers. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Tech tip: no more moiré patterns in scrollbars
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Here's a little quick-fix that all technical writers will appreciate. As you have probably noticed, if you make a screen capture of a Windows screen, then print it, the scrollbars appear to have an ugly moiré pattern. This is caused when the dots that make the scrollbar colour (called dithering) are matched to the printer's dot screen.
How do you avoid it? A quick change to your registry will make your scrollbars a solid colour instead of a dithered colour. - Select Start » Run, type regedit, and press Enter. The Registry Editor appears.
- Browse to HKEY_CURRENT_USER » Control Panel » Colors.
- Change both "ButtonHilight" and "Scrollbar" to 230 230 230.
- Close the Registry Editor.
- Logout and log in again to make the registry changes take effect.
The scrollbars should now be a solid colour. You can check this by making a screenshot and magnifying it. The scrollbars will remain solid until you next choose a Scheme in the Display Properties dialog box. If you like, you can save the current appearance (including the scrollbars) for later: - Right-click the desktop and select Properties.
- In the Appearance tab, click Save As and enter a descriptive name, like "Solid-colour scrollbars".
Now you can choose your solid-scrollbar scheme any time you want to make screenshots. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Freedom of expression
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Over at Webraw, Eric raises the issue of censorship. Specifically, "How much longer until >>YOUR EMPLOYER<< shuts down your blog like http://www.denishorgan.com?"
Eric's comments are worrysome... not only because he highlights a threat to freedom of thought and expression, but also because in his effort to comply with the desires of his own employer, he has effectively given away essential rights and freedoms. What possible right does an employer have to curtail a personal creative work that's done on personal time?
Events like the closing of Denis Horgan's site seem to be more common these days. We see legal fights over the employer's desire to control their employees versus the right to freedom of expression. More and more, corporations are taking the legal postion that employees are chattel: the activities and ideas of employees fall under the control and ownership of the employer. This is very wrong.
An example is the case in which DSC Communications fired an employee because the employee wouldn't surrender an idea that he had ( link). This idea was unrelated to his job, concieved on his personal time, and wasn't written down.
With the popularization of blogs, it's more important than ever to draw a defining line between one's work life and personal life. It's a frightening prospect to imagine a world in which thoughts and opinions may only come from corporate HQ. The right to freedom of expression means having protection from those who seek to silence you, to control you, and essentially to own you. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Faux-pas
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Agent Q and I wandered into the Fairview Pub for a couple of final pints before she disappeared back to Toronto. It was, of course, the night of The Big Game ? game seven of Vancouver versus St.Louis ? so even an hour before the game, the pub was filling up fast.
The Fairview, and I hope its patrons will forgive me for saying this, is a bit of a dive. Crappy music blares from the overhead speakers, and they keep the lights "moody" to hide the filth. But I suppose that, compared to my usual haunt, it's fine. Unlike the Jolly Alderman, the Fairview actually has windows.
Because Q and I had arrived so early, we had front-row seats for the big screen, and the jersey-wearing flag-wavers in the back looked at us enviously. When I overheard a couple of guys behind me trying to find enough seats for a few of their friends, I turned and said, "Hey, we're leaving in about twenty minutes. You can have our table if you want."
He stared at me in disbelief. "You're NOT STAYING FOR THE GAME??"
The music stopped. All heads turned. And in the silence, I think I heard a cricket chirping.
"We're... uh...," I sweated, "watching it... somewhere else."
The music started again. All heads turned back to the big screen.
It was a very close call, but Q and I escaped without injury. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Operation 'Free Big Mac'
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
Someone on the ground floor phoned me to complain about the noise my stomach was making. This is indeed a serious situation, and as I mentioned earlier, I cleverly left my wallet and security card at home today.
I need not resort to squishy things under rocks, however. In my desk, under the spare packets of ketchup, I found a coupon for a FREE McDonald's Big Mac.
Will they honour the coupon? Will I get my Big Mac both free and gratis? Will I walk away from Satan's personal grease-factory with a full stomach or will I need to go hunting in the alley for some extremely fresh squab?
Cry havoc! and let slip the hamburgers of lunch! Cubey Terra
0 comments
Doh!
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
I just discovered that I forgot my wallet today. This means that: - I don't have a security card, and
- I have no money for lunch.
Maybe I'll go down to the waterfront and eat squishy things under rocks. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Tuesday miscellany: nothing to report
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
My weekly routine on the cube farm got off to a faltering start this week. I woke up after four hours of sleep with a headache ? self-inflicted, with the help of Agent Q. My first thought was that I couldn't possibly go to work.
"What?" you say. "You had to go to work on Easter Monday?"
Yup. At least that was the plan up until Monday morning. Although most companies give their employees a day off on Easter Monday, my employer chooses not to follow that tradition. So my only choice was to take the day off anyway.
After a day of R and R, I hopped in the Civic, hit Turbo Boost and roared off to work. On the way, I passed a massive crowd in front of the main library downtown. The sidewalk was infested with teens in too much makeup and hip-hugging jeans. All of them were hoping to make a splash at the Canadian Idol auditions. (Writer shakes head and sighs.)
Well, now that I'm at the office, I should get moving. I need to build a couple of igloos before lunch. And I hear the cafeteria has a special on seal blubber. Cubey Terra
0 comments
I converted my brother
Monday, April 21, 2003
I have just spread the good word and converted my brother to bloggerism. Just now, I finished putting together the template for his blog: Dr. Destructo and the Blog of AAAAA!!!.
Dr. Destructo (my brother) is an ER doctor and thought that a blog would be perfect place to rant about life in ER. I think he needs a little encouragement. Please do drop in and leave a comment. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Found art
Monday, April 21, 2003
Cubey Terra
0 comments
End of the line
Sunday, April 20, 2003
Unrelated to this site, " END OF THE LINE" is a page by a bus driver for the Pittsburgh port authority "...in memory of both buses and trolleys that are no longer with us." Cubey Terra
0 comments
Turbo boost please, KITT
Saturday, April 19, 2003
And speaking of shopping ( see the previous entry), I recently took the plunge and bought myself a brand-spankin'-new monitor. This is something that I've been planning for a dog's age. Actually, I'm not exactly certain how long a dog's age is, so let's just say that the dog in question was born about the same time that LCD monitors first came on the consumer market.
 So now that the dog is a few years old, LCD monitors have come down in price enough that I decided to take the bull by the horns (to add another cliché to my post). I unpacked it, cleared a nice spot on my desk, realized that I did this in the wrong order, then placed the pretty new monitor in its new home. Oooh, real purty.
That was last week. Because I'm a technical writer, I naturally didn't read the user manual until this week. That's when I discovered something that wasn't in any of the product specs. My purty new monitor rotates. I had no idea.
This is like buying a car and then discovering that it has a button labelled Turbo Boost. Well maybe not that cool. Hold on a sec... I'll be right back.
Okay, I'm back. My Civic doesn't have a Turbo Boost button.
 Anyway, thanks to the nifty Pivot software, which was included with the monitor, I can rotate my monitor. This is surprisingly perfect for browsing the web. And when I'm writing, which I do almost every day, it feels amazingly natural. (You can see the whole page!)
I'd highly recommend this Pivot stuff to anyone. You don't need any special hardware ? you can rest any monitor on its side. I'm seriously tempted to buy a copy of Pivot for the office before any dogs become much older.
This ends my unsolicited product endorsement. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Tomato paste
Saturday, April 19, 2003
Agent Q and I were hanging out in the pit of despair my living room when my old friend Rob and his girlfriend Evelyn dropped by. Things were great until Ev turned to me and asked, "Can I borrow some tomato paste?"
Huh? The gears in my brain ground together for a second or two over this non sequitur. "Uhhh, no. I'm sorry... I don't have any."
" You don't have tomato paste?" She stared at me incredulously.
I made a show of checking my pockets. "Nope. No tomato paste. Why? Should I?"
According to both Ev and Agent Q, tomato paste is just one of those staples one has in one's cupboards. Rob and I glanced to each other for moral support as the womenfolk (oh, I'm going to get comments about that one) explained to us that if you see tomato paste on sale, you just pick up a few cans.
"I don't know," I said, unconvinced. "I just buy things when I need them for something specific."
"Yeah," said Rob helpfully.
"I pretty much just buy the stuff when I'm making something like pasta sauce," I explained, "and then I buy only enough to make it."
No, I'm not the smartest shopper out there, but I'm an efficient shopper. I buy only what I need, when I need it. And like ninety percent of the male population out there (I'm obviously picking that number out of the air), I don't spend extra time shopping for something that I didn't know I needed that happens to be on sale.
"Ach. Men," was the gist of their response. Cubey Terra
0 comments
A to Z
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Over at And for my next trick, Townie has written an A to Z of her past weeks. I thought I'd steal her idea and do one of my own. Anyone else want to do the same?
So here it is... the a to z of end of line (and I should remind everyone that because I'm north of the 49th parallel, "Z" is pronounced "zed"): A is for ale, of which I drink many.
B is for burgers, but I haven't had any.
C is for car, which is getting quite smelly.
D is for doughnuts that squirt cherry jelly.
E is for end of line, now going strong.
F is for fone, which I always spell wrong.
G is for GroupWise's dependable crash.
H is for Honda, which eats all my cash.
I is for Internet, rotting my brain.
J is for jelly, a setting red stain.
K is for Konica taking a pic.
L is for lunch, which made me feel sick.
M is for monitor, the new one I bought.
N is for negative, the cashflow I've got.
O is for octopus, also called "tako".
P is for pamplemousse as a nice snack-o.
Q is for quickly, which is how fast I type.
R is for relentlessly writing this tripe.
S is for Shabusen all-you-can-eat.
T is for tofu in place of red meat.
U is for uselessly writing this list.
V is for valuing all the time missed.
W is for walking along the sea wall.
X is for xerography to copy it all.
Y is for yearning for summer to come.
Z is for Zoodles, and this list is dumb. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Agent Q
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Message from headquarters: At 1730 hours, be at the rendezvous coordinates to make contact with Agent Q. From there you will proceed with the mission: locate and demolish the best beer in the city. You and Q are mission experts now. With a little luck and your instincts, you may come out of this with only a headache in the morning.
This tape will self-destruct in five hours. (We had some budget cuts at headquarters.) Cubey Terra
0 comments
Mmm
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Mmm. Coffee.
I don't know why I just typed that. Cubey Terra
1 comments
Dear cell phone users...
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
To the people with a novelty "musical" ring tone on their cell phone: Do you know how bloody irritating that is?? At least with a normal ring, people can speak (and think) between rings. But your continuous electronic crap drowns out everything around you. What made you think that anyone wants to hear a mechanized bastardization of Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven? What made you think that the "funky" ring was even remotely entertaining (or funky for that matter)? And what makes you think that it's in any way "cute" or "sophisticated", when it blasts out in a quiet coffee shop, causing everything to come to a halt until you decide to fumble through your belongings to answer it? And finally, to the person on the sixth floor with a novelty ring tone who won't answer the phone when it rings: if you let it run through twenty repetitions of "William Tell" again, don't be surprised if a certain blogger demonstrates how you can make a cell phone more operate more quietly with the correct application of a ball-pein hammer. Cubey Terra
Lethal foods
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
An MSN Messenger conversation with my brother: Steve says: i just got back from Shabusen. i'm full of tuna sashimi.
Matt says: mmmmmmm. i haven't had good sashimi in oh...forever. the last trip to MEC destroyed my fancy eatin' fund. the only fancy eatin' i been doin' is when mum and dad came to town. sigh. oh well...i like grilled cheese.
Steve says: grilled cheese is good stuff. it contains a full helping of vitamin G
Matt says: mmm, cheese sweat. i was grilled cheesin' it up the other day, and hit an actual pocket of liquid cheese fat. it was by far the most revolting experience i'd had in hours.
Steve says: you haven't tried the 'New York Deli' pizza from Panagopolous, have you?
Matt says: negatory...
Steve says: it's mozza, cheddar, and five different fatty meats.
Steve says: when you get the box, the grease has completely soaked through.
Steve says: a slice can kill a grown man
Steve says: that is, if you freeze it first and ram it into his neck.
Steve says: it takes practice and a lot of training to kill a man with a slice of pizza
Steve says: but i digress
Matt says: i done it a few times, back in 'nam, when the ammo was running low.
Steve says: i wonder what other foods could be a lethal weapon
Matt says: carrots for sure, too. all those pointy root vegetables. octopus? you could use the suckers to give a lethal hickey.
Steve says: ooh. that would be a horrible way to go.
Matt says: good lord. i can't think of it.
Steve says: spagetti?
Matt says: if you braided a whole bunch of spagetti noodles together to make a rope... Cubey Terra
0 comments
Fish-and-rice feast
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Today I partake in that eternal office ritual known as the Goodbye Lunch. Two longtime employees are leaving for "other opportunities", so we're taking them out to lunch.
The location: Shabusen. This all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant has been the location of many distressing sushi incidents. At my last job, the development department used to go to Shabusen at least once a month. One programmer was notorious for ordering ten plates of every kind of roll there was, including the cucumber maki: the most boring sushi imaginable. Shabusen is also the place that serves their tuna sashimi so fresh that it's still frozen in the middle.
On the other hand, the price is pretty good. It's about ten dollars (Canadian) to engorge yourself on raw fish and rice, and they even have a selection of cooked foods too, although the chicken and beef dishes are a little sketchy.
I'll let you know how it goes. If I survive. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Setting the tone
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
Because I'm starting out in this new blog, I'd like to make an effort to set the correct tone. I feel that I should establish the level of critical thinking that I'll... um... something. I forgot what I was saying.
In the meantime, I woke up this morning with some interesting words in my head. Like vociferous. Isn't vociferous a nice round word? Vociferous.
And tangential. Whenever I hear that word, I remember a fellow student in a literature class who kept saying "tan-genitally", which means something very different. She also referred to "Oh-dipius Rex". Well, that kind of entertainment made the class worth going to.
It's time for the morning meeting, now, so I must rush off and report my progress to department heads. So many heads. Hiring heads is a good way for a company to save money on chairs. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Geek in toy land
Monday, April 14, 2003
Well, they say that every man has his vice. Mine... er, one of mine... is a weakness for geeky things.
On the weekend, I went to Toys 'R' Us to see if I could dig up something for my niece's birthday. She's an artistic type, so I usually like to pick up some interesting implements for drawing, painting, and general mayhem that produces lasting stains on flat surfaces. This time, however, I was completely at a loss.
I have to admit, my expertise in modern toy stores extends only as far as the LEGO shelf, although I probably shouldn't admit to that. What do kids like these days? Back in my day, X number of decades ago, I would have flipped for a USS Flagg GI Joe aircraft carrier. I think my parents bought me the Manta GI Joe windsurfer instead. They just didn't get it.
Or maybe they did, and they were trying to bring me around from the darkside of warmongering. It's always so difficult to instill positive values in a child.
When I was a child, I instinctively knew the layout of the standard toy store. On one side, there were the cool things: the action figures and accessories, the guns and gadgets, and various sporting goods. On the other side: the girl stuff. If you accidentally crossed the dividing line between them, you would suddenly find yourself in a world where everything has big, cute eyes and the predominant colour is pink. This is quickly followed by a hasty retreat to the safety of the mucous-like rubber toys in aisle two.
On the weekend, my objective was deep in pink territory. Girl stuff. Nieces like things like little puppy play sets and Barbies. Right? I have to admit, I have no idea.
What did she play with? I must have seen her playing with something at some point. I'd try to picture it. OK. And then she'd pick up... what? What the hell is she picking up? A doll? No. A play jewelry set? No. A plastic iguana? No!
What then?
As I was puzzling it over, I found myself in the board games section. I was safe in the neutral territory between the boy and girl factions. This is mainly because kids never go into this section. The board games section is strictly for parents and grandparents who want to teach good, healthy values like how to crush your friends in the pursuit of money. The board games section is also for confused, but well-meaning, uncles who panic at Christmas time and send his brother's kids the Canadian edition of Trivial Pursuits Junior. I bet the plastic wrap is still on that one.
There in front of me, between the Game of Life and NHL Monopoly, was the box from my childhood with the four big, red letters on it: RISK. Suddenly I was swept back into the fields of memory. My brothers and I played endless games of RISK to the point where the box fell to pieces and the seven boxes of playing pieces (and dice) were cracked and broken.
RISK! I remembered the time I figured out that Siam was the key to Asia. And that you should generally avoid Europe. My dad took it a step further by computing the odds in detail and writing his calculations out on thirty sheets of graph paper. He'd hoped to help us play better, but no one could understand his math, and the thirty sheets of calculations sat unread at the bottom of the game box.
I had to buy this game. As I reached for it, the game on the shelf below it caught my eye: Lord of the Rings RISK. Ooooh. The geek in me was intrigued. A map of Middle Earth, eh? Gameplay cards? And... playing pieces in the shape of orcs, trolls, and black riders? Sold.
I walked out of Toys 'R' Us a satisfied customer. Oh, and I picked up some Crayola stuff for the niece too.
 Cubey Terra
0 comments
beginnings. endings.
Monday, April 14, 2003
This is not the beginning. This is not the end. This is not the beginning of the end.
This is the end of the beginning of the end of that middle part that no one really notices because they were distracted by a dog with a funny expression on its face.
I'm not new to blogging. If you're reading this near to the time I posted it, you know that already. And now I suppose you're going to ask me all kinds of questions that begin with "why".
Let me head those off by answering them before they're asked. - Why did you ditch your old site? Hmm. I don't know the answer to that just yet. I think it's related to overwhelming traffic and the fact that all of my friends, family, and coworkers read my site.
- Why did you choose "endofline.ca"? I'd have to say that I don't know the answer to that either. It's better than the alternatives I came up with.
- Why is "end of line" significant? It isn't really. "End of Line" is a character that marks the end of a line of text. It's also the end of a rail line (pictured in the banner). And "endOfLine()" is a function used in some scripting languages to indicate the end of a line. What's the relevance to my blog? Hmm. I'll get back to you on that?
- Why aren't you saying anything funny? I am. I'm just not typing any of it.
So here we go ? continuing where we left off, but under a new name. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Cubicle Rule #27
Thursday, April 10, 2003
While providing technical support to your customers, avoid the acronym "RTFM". Customers may not share your sense of humour. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Cubicle Rule #94
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Although your job may require intense sessions of deep thought, avoid looking out the window and move your fingers randomly on the keyboard while you think. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Cubicle Rule #38
Thursday, April 10, 2003
During the weekly product meeting, never tell them that you have nothing to report because you spend all day playing Quake II. Management may not share your sense of humour. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Cubicle Rule #26
Thursday, April 10, 2003
When writing instructions for a software manual, avoid referring to the user as "the DFU". Customers may not share your sense of futility. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Hey diddle diddle
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Back in February I launched an investigation into the mystery of the missing utensils ? namely the spoons and the coveted spork. All of the spoons had mysteriously vanished from the sixth floor kitchen. Due to a complete lack of evidence (and investigative competence), I quit the case in order to found the Church of the Holy Spork.
Well that turned out to be a mistake too, and now that I've returned to technical writing, there's been a new development. The bowl is now missing as well, and the word on the street is that the dish ran away with the spoon.
My first instinct was to bring the cow in for questioning. Unfortunately, during her jump over the moon, she made a slight miscalculation in her trajectory and is trapped in a high orbit around the earth. The Russians are sending a Soyuz spacecraft to recover her, but they fear the worst.
The little dog is my next suspect. Both the cat and the fiddle claim that the dog was there and was crippled with bouts of insane laughter. Sounds suspicious to me. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Achieving a balanced diet
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Last night I accidentally ate something healthy for dinner. Today I'll have to compensate by eating something absurdly greasy.
There are several grades on my scale of greasiness. - Non-greasy. Anything with leaves, I suppose. To be perfectly honest, I'm not very familiar with this category.
- Greasy. Fried noodles. Fried eggs. Fried green tomatoes.
- Really greasy. Bacon. Fish and chips. Pizza.
- Dangerously greasy. All-meat pizza. McDonald's Hockey Hero Sandwich. Duck.
- Absurdly greasy. Deep fried pizza. Deep fried duck (with cheese). A deep-fried Hockey Hero Sandwich topped with nacho cheese dip and duck drippings.
So there you go. Do print out this list as a handy reminder when choosing foods at lunch time. And remember: if you eat something healthy, balance it out by eating something equally unhealthy. !!WARNING!!
Like matter and anti-matter, the greasy and non-greasy foods should never come in direct contact with each other, or the resulting explosion could wipe out all life on the planet. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Indecisive
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
I deliberated. I pondered. I weighed the pros and cons. I flipped a coin. I consulted the magic 8-ball. I consulted the plant in the corner of my room (that didn't help, but I managed to turn a new leaf). I just can't decide what to do with my website layout.
Should I keep the new white-and-grey layout? Should I try the black layout again? Should I return to the familiar old layout with the bandwidth-consuming graphics?
Help me out here. Please vote in the Cubicle Poll. Cubey Terra
0 comments
South Park school collapse feared
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
In the news, parents of children attending South Park Elementary in Victoria, BC, have pulled their children out of school following a seimic assessment (" Parents fear school collapse"). The report indicates that a "moderately-sized" quake could cause the school to collapse.
When asked for comment, one student remarked, "Aw, man! That's hellacool!" Cubey Terra
0 comments
What is a blog?
Monday, April 07, 2003
Alright. I've been puzzling over this question since I started blogging, and I still don't have a definitive answer. After seening Eric's creative definition of "blog", I thought I'd take a crack at it myself.
The Bloggies define a weblog as "a page with dated entries that has a purpose (in whole or in part) of linking to other sites" and they exclude "personal journals". That's a start, alright, but it seems a little narrow for my tastes. By that definition, most blogs that I read aren't actually "blogs". Frankly, I wouldn't read something that has the primary purpose of simply linking to other sites. I can't imagine a more boring read.
To me, a blog can be any web-based form of creative expression in a format that uses dated entries. It can be commentary, it can be news, it can be a personal journal, and it can even be a cat-worship page with hundreds of high-resolution photos (although I wouldn't read that either).
We can also define blogging by what it isn't. As CNN is more than happy to report, blogs are ? for the most part ? an unreliable source of news. Feeling the pressure from bloggers, traditional media outlets love to trash bloggers on this basis. Even Wired.com isn't beyond taking a shot, as illustrated by the article " Noted War Blogger Cops to Copying". No, bloggers do not, in general, verify their sources or even credit their sources as thoroughly as they should, which leads me to believe that reporting the news is not for amateurs. Reporting opinion, on the other hand, is for every blogger and his highly photographed cat. Bloggers excel at expressing their reactions to current events and even mouldy, old non-current events.
What's more of a mystery to me is why people become so easily addicted to reading and writing blogs. For example, why are you still reading this? Go outside and do something meaningful, for crying out loud! As for myself, I think I'll lounge on some formed meat for a while. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Thank you, but I can't accept
Monday, April 07, 2003
Google has done it again. According to Eric J of Webraw.com, Google lists me first in a search for " sweaty manager". Previously, I enjoyed a fleeting notoriety as the world's leading authority regarding "Hockey Hero Sandwich" and "cubicle", and I attempted to fulfill my responsibilities by answering any and all questions relating to Hockey Hero Sandwiches and cubicles.
This time, however, I think I'll pass. The subject of sweaty managers simply doesn't need any more attention. In fact, I'd rather not spend any more time thinking about it.
But I would like to ask Eric why he was searching for "sweaty manager". Cubey Terra
0 comments
Archaic technology
Monday, April 07, 2003
I had a disconcerting moment at the video store. I asked the clerk for a specific movie, and when she returned, she handed me the strangest thing. It was a black, rectangular object ? a plastic case that held two reels of brown ribbon. Apparently, the object is meant to be inserted into a video playback device, which runs the brown ribbon across a spinning drum, and the magnetic patterns encoded on the ribbon produce a moving image. It was all so frighteningly primitive.
I asked her if I needed a grammophone for the audio portion of the recording, but I suppose it was slightly more advanced than that. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Spring forward, fall back
Monday, April 07, 2003
If you haven't noticed yet, you should probably know that yesterday we set our clocks forward by an hour. I would have missed it completely, if I hadn't sat down at the computer Sunday morning. And so, I dutifully went from room to room to room (I have three rooms) setting each of my clocks. Why do so many things come with clocks in them? Cubey Terra
0 comments
The Ultimate... without bacon
Friday, April 04, 2003
Recently, someone asked me if I could write about a particularly inspirational moment in my life ? something that fundamentally changed the way in which I think, feel, and wear pants.
 When I think of inspirational moments, I think back to a time back in the eighties when I worked in a fast food restaurant. It was my job to pour "soft-serve" frozen treats, mix shakes, grill burgers, fry fries, and makes sure that the wieners didn't become too green while they waited in the steamer to be sold as hot dogs.
The summer was beginning to heat up when I started, and the kitchen area became so uncomfortably hot that sweat would roll freely down the manager's forehead and land with a splash and a sizzle in the deep frier. Unlike her minions, the manager didn't let the heat slow her down. Deep frying provided meaning in her life, and she engaged in it with every ounce of her being.
For relief, I'd deliberately understock the food prep area so that I'd have a frequent excuse to spend some quality time in the walk-in freezer. That continued until the sweaty manager discovered me lounging on a box of formed meat patties with a newspaper. I have never since had the good fortune to sit on formed meat, but if you've tried it once, you'll know that it's an experience to remember. But that wasn't the inspirational moment.
During the peak hours around noon or evening, the pace quickened and the stress level rose sharply. Three or four of us would squeeze behind the counter and work with breathless efficiency. After a couple of weeks on the job, my hands would become a blur of soft-serve treats and syrup. There were accidents, of course, like the time I spun too quickly and elbowed a coworker in a rather sensitive part of her anatomy. That wasn't the inspirational moment either. I'm getting to that.
One busy day, while working the grill, I received an order for an Ultimate Burger™ without bacon. In my haste, I forgot the special part of the order and sent it out with bacon. The customer, who couldn't eat bacon, asked for a different burger. Embarrassed and apologetic, I set about assembling a new burger for him.
At this point, the sweaty manager stepped in and told me to give him the same burger, but with the bacon removed. I hesitated.
"But there's bacon juice all over the patty," I pointed out.
"I don't like your attitude," she observed. With an evil look, she wrapped up the reconditioned burger, sent it up to the counter, and left to discipline a coworker for spending too much time in the walk-in refrigerator. The customer, of course, noticed the recycled burger immediately and sent it back again.
Again, I apologized and set about making a new one. The manager caught me, and I had to explain to her that it wasn't enough to just remove the bacon... the patty had been in contact with the greasy bacon.
"Well," she said matter-of-factly. "That's just stupid. Send it out again." And with that, she turned to discipline another coworker for throwing away wieners that weren't completely green.
With that, I came to a startling realization. I suddenly understood with crystal clarity that 1) my manager was an ignorant doorknob, and 2) I didn't like working for ignorant doorknobs.
When my shift was done, I shed my uniform and never returned.
I never returned except for the one time I returned last year to order an Ultimate Burger™ with fries. The manager was still there. She was showing one of her workers how to pour the used soft-serve from the throw-away bucket back into the machine. And she was still sweaty.
Cubey Terra
0 comments
My morning so far
Thursday, April 03, 2003
 The erased item says "Find an eraser". Cubey Terra
0 comments
Groggy
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Argh. Bleah.
I'm so groggy today, and I can't understand why. It couldn't have anything to do with missing dinner, could it? Or watching TV all night? And then skipping breakfast this morning? Well I just can't figure it out.
Coffee, do your magic. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Anything Goes
Thursday, April 03, 2003
At times like these, the song "Anything Goes" springs to mind : Anything goes in.
Anything goes out!
Fish, bananas, old pyjamas,
Mutton! Beef! and Trout!
Anything goes in...
(Repeat until ears fall off) That, of course, isn't the Cole Porter version, but the one penned by Terry Jones of Monty Python. Very a propos. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Al-Jazeera more popular than sex
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
Article on Wired.com: Web Surfers Flock to Al-Jazeera. In spite of being mostly knocked offline, the website of Arab satellite news network Al-Jazeera was among the most sought-after on the Internet last week.
The Web portal Lycos (Terra Lycos is the parent company of Wired News) reported that "Al-Jazeera" and variant spellings became its top search term last week, with three times more searches than "sex." * More popular than sex? They must have some really talented web designers. Either that or they're offering more than just news. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Poor sanitation
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
I was interested to notice that the Vancouver Coastal Health Authority has a Food Establishment Closures page. I was also... um... interested... to notice that Sushi Spot ? a restaurant that I visit at least once a week ? was closed on March 11 because of "poor sanitation" and an "inoperable dishwasher".
Ick. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Bombing the Mouse that Roared
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
Last night, I found myself watching The Mouse that Roared (1959) with Peter Sellers. Or to be precise, as Thomson and Thompson might say, I found myself watching Peter Sellers in The Mouse that Roared. Peter Sellers was definitely not watching the movie with me. But I digress.
Anyway, in this movie, a tiny country that usually escapes notice declares war on the US and acquires the dreaded Q-bomb (in today's terms, a Weapon of Mass Destruction massively more powerful than a nuclear warhead). In a poignant moment, the US military leaders consider their options and find themselves "stuck": it would be completely immoral for a country the size of the United States to attack a tiny country like the Duchy of Fenwick. Instead, they resort to diplomacy.
Well it looks like the US military has long since overcome that pesky morality thing. Cubey Terra
0 comments
Mmm. Crispy.
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
As you probably know, McDonald's posts nutritional information on their corporate website. I had a little bit of a shock while looking for the Crispy Chicken burger. It looks like there was something behind those some of those misguided Google searches after all: click here to see the screen shot.
(Oh, and in case anyone was confused, this was my attempt at a little April Fool's levity. You can't, of course, actually buy a Crispy Dwarf Hamster with Penguin Bacon at McDonald's. You can, however, buy a Crispy Chicken with Bacon, which tastes almost as good.) Cubey Terra
0 comments
|
