Author: matthew

“You type so fast, it sounds like you are a kid on the computer mashing the keys at random.” — Christy Barnson, about Matt Barnson’s typing speed

Fact: I am on my third computer keyboard at work so far this year. I destroyed the previous ones through over-use. And I really need to replace the keyboards on my laptops. My only saving grace is that I use an external keyboard on at least one of my laptops, and my other laptop gets used more for gaming and surfing the web than my actual writing.

I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn’t it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them. So now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe. -Marcus Cole

Everybody who knows me knows that I hate email spam. I have taken pretty strong measures on my server to stop it from dropping in my inbox, so much so that these days the only stuff that finds its way in there are emails from people who sign up for throw-away accounts from a major ISP.

Regardless, very rarely I see a subject line that makes me laugh because it’s clever. This one did.

“Don’t be an average man! Megadik will lift you up to the top!”

Just the product name — “Megadik” — is enough to make me giggle a little bit. Or maybe throw up into my mouth a little bit. I sometimes can’t tell the difference.

Have they ever told you this, “Damn it! Your penis is really tiny!”?

Damn it! I can’t tell you how many times I have heard this in the locker room! I don’t have enough exclamation points to express how I feel about men telling me I have a tiny penis!

Didn’t you just wanna run away?

Absolutely! I think it would be fun to run through the gym carrying my towel in my hands so that everybody can make fun of my eensy-weensy, needle-sized manhood.

Don’t let women turn their back on you!

But, but… but what if I prefer that position?

Megadik will bring you to your sexual dreams!

My sexual dreams are simple: * Early. Morning is best. I don’t know why, but it is. * Often. Daily is best. Really, more often than that and I get a bit chapped, speaking from experience. Oh, and also, speaking from experience, Aloe Vera gel is a REALLY bad choice for trying to relieve the chapped-ness.

Umm, that’s about it. How does having a bigger dong impact that schedule?

You should simply rely on this excellent preparation!

I think the time for preparation is long since over. I had enough of that with Rosie Palm and her five sisters in high school.

“Oh! Your penis is so large!” Isn’t that what you dream to hear every day?

I think if I heard this every day, I would develop a complex. Or maybe a rash. Or, possibly, painful urination.

Soon you’ll be the only one ladies will wish! Megadik is your real cure!

Dang, dude, there are 3 billion women in the world. I don’t have the time or interest to be the only one for all of them. Couldn’t we limit that a bit, to, say, half a billion or so?

So it was all over the news yesterday how this mother boarded a bus where a bully had beaten up her child the day earlier, slapped him across the face, and poked him repeatedly in the forehead.

I wanted to know: what’s your thought on this incident?

Mine is that I know what an abusive, dysfunctional society is created by our children in public school. They know that what they are doing has no real impact, and feel powerless. They create a “prison culture” where the teachers are the guards, and status is determined in large part by who can be the cruelest to other children. There are a small few who rise above the pettiness, but by and large this daily torture and subjugation is a reality for many students.

My daughter was being terribly picked on by a boy in her class a couple of years ago, and was having trouble dealing with it. She was faking illness to get out of school in order to avoid him. Eventually, the problem was resolved. How? She kicked his butt.

Both my wife and I had taken her aside, showed her a few moves, and gave her the advice that the next time he hit or pushed her, she should beat him down hard enough that he will never think to touch her again. That’s exactly what she did, and if I recall correctly she received some disciplinary action from the school for the incident. We had both told her that it’s OK if she gets suspended for defending herself; as long as she is not the one who started it, we will support her decision to finish it.

Now is it right for this mother to board the bus and scold the boy? Well, speaking from experience, I think that would only result in more teasing and harassment for her child as needing the “Mama” to intercede on his behalf. I would have gone for the approach of “teach the kid to fight for himself, and support him if he gets suspended” approach.

On the other hand, I can totally sympathize with this woman for her frustration that this very intimidating, foul-mouthed bully was terrorizing her son repeatedly. I was there once, and knowing that you can’t possibly beat this kid who is twice the fighter you are is frustrating. It seems obvious from the video that once the woman’s back was turned, this bully said something really rude to her, and that is why she returned.

Rather than slapping a child, perhaps if you plan to board a bus to confront a bully, it would be better to bring along some soap. Then it would be very clear on video exactly what you’re doing, and why, when you wash out his mouth with it.

I wanna start a new band. The last time I started one, I was fourteen years old and noodling on my guitar in Jon Brusco’s garage. The goal would be mostly cover tunes, not much original stuff, with the aim of playing local clubs, block parties, outdoor events in my town and nearby, and that kind of thing. I’d like to have a 3-hour set ready by next summer.

So if you were starting a new rock band, and didn’t know anybody in your area who played an instrument, how would you get started? Would you be a petty dictator and have the set list already outlined when the first person auditioned, or would you have a lot of band input? If you knew you weren’t going to get paid (much, or at all) for the first couple of years, how would you keep members?

There I stood, a member of the stalwart party of adventurer-heroes. We faced the two ghostly fortune-tellers after battling our way beyond hordes of enemies in order to free them.

The first of these powerful, ancient, otherworldly women was a beautiful vision. She told a singular, positive truth about some facet of each member’s life. The truth she told me was, “You love your wife and children very much.” It’s such a simple statement, but coming from her lips it had the ring of a profound truth which reached out beyond the dream to embrace my real life.

My immersion broke a little at this point. Like various times in my life, I suddenly realized I was asleep and dreaming. I was not totally in control of my actions, nor was I totally in control of what I dreamed about. Such is the nature of my lucid dreams; if I try to control them, I simply awaken.

I basked in the warmth of knowing that this being knew the depth of my love for my wife and children.

The second demi-goddess, a blue-skinned, thin-haired old hag, told things only as they were. She told truths about us that we would rather not know, in a voice that none other than the hearer could perceive. Past her long nose and rheumy eyes, she coldly informed each member of the party one truth about themselves which obviously had painful effect on each of them. One of the male adventurers collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

It was macabre and bizarre at the same time, watching her speak and each party member react with surprise, possibly hostility, and sometimes sadness.

When my turn came around, she peered at me intently and said, “You have not grown since our last meeting. You have stagnated, learning nothing and yet avowing to have learned everything. You will die still having learned nothing, yet vaunting your own self-importance to your final day.” She finished this statement with a sniff, and looked away.

She began to fade away in front of me, her dream-form beginning to thin and shred like wisps of fog. “Hold on,” I said jokingly, realizing somewhere in my mind that this was a dream and I could get away with whatever I wanted, “how am I expected to believe that when I can’t even remember ever meeting you before?”

I was very flippant, and realized the moment the words were out of my mouth that, at least in this dream-realm, I had spoken much too quickly to a being of far too much importance for my station. I knew, however, that it was too late to retract them.

The wispy form of the Fury-like hag coalesced suddenly before me, no longer ethereal and ghostly but suddenly as real as a fist in your gut. Her gaunt face flared with rage. Her eyes blazed red with timeless malice. She closed the distance between us without walking, and I felt the presence of an icy grip on the back of my neck.

Her voice resonated in the cavern, and I knew that this part of our conversation was no longer private.

“Apparently, our previous meeting was not important enough to you to remember. A pity for you. Mortal, I would have you know one more truth which, in that pity, I have spared you.” She spat these words with venom, her face now mere inches from mine. I could smell her fetid breath, the stench of ageless rot and hatred washing over me like a mire of convulsive despair.

“Know this. Beyond this dream realm which you impotently observe, beyond this dream life you have constructed which will fade the moment your eyes open, you have a real life with real consequences. You sit at your computer and play games with strangers, hiding from the wife and children you claim to love behind a false grin in a mockery of a real relationship.”

She cackled mirthlessly at my shocked expression and obvious distress. “Pricked a nerve? Good. Know this truth about your future grim: you will live only long enough to experience your current game’s grins.”

“Nonononono! You mean…” I tried to make her come back and explain further.

She disappeared with a snap and an audible thundercrack.

I awoke.

I sat bolt-upright in my bed and reached for my mobile phone, panting and sweaty.

04:44.

I felt my neck for a pulse. Heart still beating. I’m alive. Not dead yet. I laid back down briefly and stared at my wife’s face, her breath a low snore in the darkness.

Got up, used the bathroom, looked at my scruffy morning-face in the mirror. I was profoundly shaken. I often have dreams about those things I most fear. I’ve had dreams where I murder someone. Where I go to prison. Where I am lost in the woods and cornered by various animals or monsters. I realized it was not death I fear — I have no fear of being dead, but a bit of fear of the pain I may experience on the way there — but lost time with those I love.

In that way, perhaps the “truths” offered by the dream-hag have some real-life consequences. They are things I fear most about myself. I strive to learn every day, yet I often worry that perhaps I’m not learning as much as I ought and that I’m not keeping up. And I worry that, in my pursuit of career and hobbies, I don’t spend enough time with my wife and children.

Maybe she’s right, and I’m kicking off shortly after I get bored with the current crop of computer games with which I entertain myself from time to time (and played way too much of yesterday while home sick from work). Probably she’s wrong, but even with that, she helped me realize that perhaps I should re-prioritize what I’m doing.

Then again, it could just be the fever-dream result of the flu symptoms I’m currently experiencing. Either way, I still feel as if I’m going to vomit.

I was driving in my car this morning listening to some Linkin’ Park, and realized that I was singing the wrong lyric in the bridge of “Papercut“. Here’s the way it’s supposed to go:

The sun goes down I feel the light betray me The sun goes down I feel the light betray me

What I actually sang was:

The sun goes by I feel just like Dick Cheney The sun goes by I feel just like Dick Cheney

Analyzing it in my car, I thought “I feel my life is changing” would fit, too. And what a great social commentary on how Dick Cheney felt after he accidentally shot his friend in the face.

Now, I realize that Linkin Park isn’t known for their political lyrics — that would be Green Day — but more for their angst-ey, “I’m an awful person want to kill somebody chasing me can’t help feeling like my criminal past is lurking behind the conflict with my father” kind of lyrics. Besides, Hybrid Theory came out in 2000 (and I still think of it as a “new” album… man, I’m getting old!) while the Cheney incident was in 2006. That means that at the time “Papercut” was recorded, George Bush Jr. wasn’t even in office yet. Nevertheless, this is still what I’ve heard and sung for months. I’ve only been listening to Linkin Park for about a year, though. The paranoid inside of my head, of course, knew all along that it was the wrong lyric, but thought it was funny anyway.

This made me remember other lyrics I got wrong, but thought they were better wrong. The funniest example was “Kyrie“, released by Mr. Mister in 1985. This was also the same year that Back to the Future was in theaters, everybody hated the New Coke, hijackers and terrorists were blowing up airplanes left and right, and the Challenger was going to blow up in January of 1986.

The actual chorus to the song goes like this:

Kyrie eleison down the road that I must travel Kyrie eleison through the darkness of the night Kyrie eleison where I’m going will you follow Kyrie eleison on a highway in the night.

Now, the song is actually kind of deep if you’re Catholic. According to this Straight Dope article, “the Kyrie eleison (Greek for “Lord, have mercy”) is a song by which the faithful praise the Lord and implore his mercy.” There are some other interesting historical bits, but I’ll leave those to you to read. Basically it’s a song asking for the Lord’s help on the author’s journey. But doing so in a kickass fashion, with a great groove, rocking baseline, fat synthesizers, and huge chorus.

Now, in the summer of 1985 when this became a hit, I was twelve years old and had just finished a traumatic sixth-grade year. After going to Darnestown Elementary, I was heading to Ridgeview Junior High School, and had learned pretty quickly that as a tall, gangly, and socially-inept youth, I was a prime target for bullies and harassment. My older brother, Brian, had reacted to a similar situation in Junior High by carrying knives to school to defend himself, and thereby getting himself expelled. I knew I didn’t want to take that road, but I heard this great song on the radio that made me smile because it was just so damn cool. I spent the summer dreaming about the song and using graph paper to draw pictures of the object of my affection.

The song was “Carry a Laser”. How much cooler that is than “Kyrie”, anyway?

Carry a laser down the road that I must travel Carry a laser through the darkness of the night Carry a laser where I’m going will you follow Carry a laser on a highway in the night.

This was particularly awesome because “The Terminator” had just come out a few months earlier, and I’d managed to sneak in to watch it with some friends. I think I saw it with Laurie McDermott… that girl was the teacher’s pet, but a real hellion underneath that modest exterior. Anyway, I saw myself as Kyle Reese toting a laser to blow away the robots chasing me.

And if worse came to worst, I was sure I could modify that laser to provide more light for that highway in the night. Surely a twelve-year-old could MacGuyver that.

There are other examples that are cooler, but that will do for now. I gotta get to work.

A few days ago, I found myself thinking about how turbine engines work. I had the opportunity a couple of weeks ago to watch Troy Giles, a Utah Highway Patrol officer, fly his Bergen Turbine helicopter. Troy helped start the UHP R/C helicopter aerial photography program for traffic accident forensics. He does AP work in his spare time now and as a weekend business. The helicopter, apparently, pays for itself.

It was really impressive. Although heavy (because it was designed to carry more than its own weight in aerial photography payload), it had massive amounts of thrust and horsepower available. The fuel cost was also minimal compared to comparable alcohol-fueled aircraft (often called “glow” or “nitro” motors). There were practically no vibration issues, while piston-powered helis usually have large amounts of vibration.

Two sixteen-ounce aluminum bottles held the fuel — kerosene mixed with just a hint of turbine oil in this case — strapped to the side of the helicopter. It can burn just about anything, though. The motor isn’t really dependent on a particular type of fuel, but kerosene is safe, readily available, and doesn’t have the smell of diesel or gasoline. For a given amount of fuel, it can run two or three times longer than alcohol. The massive blades on this beast held an enormous amount of inertia, and the kerosene seemed to burn clean, hot, and with substantially less smoke than that created by piston-powered helicopters.

Basically, the way a turbine-powered helicopter like this works is that there is no direct connection between the turbine engine and the drive shaft. A squirrel fan, much like that found in swamp coolers and some window fans, sits in the thrust of the engine and is spun thereby. A shaft attaches this fan to a clutch; when the shaft reaches a certain RPM, the clutch expands enough to engage the clutch lining and clutch bell, which starts the rotors turning. It’s a nifty little system.

A really cool aspect is that the cost of small turbine engines has dropped radically over the past ten years. The advent of CNC — Computer Numerically Controlled — machining has made the production of fans which spin at a million RPM feasible on a small scale without enormous costs. Sure, the motors are expensive for a model — around $2,000-$5,000 instead of the $1000 which is typical for a glow or gasoline engine this size — but all things considered, they really aren’t terribly out of line.

It would seem to me that a turbine-powered automobile would have similar benefits. Clean operation. Quieter power, although a turbine does produce quite a roar without muffling. Very little exhaust smoke. Multiple fuel options without modification. Very light motor compared to piston power. Power to weight is superior to a piston engine, which means you can use a smaller engine for the same job and have better fuel economy in many cases. Almost no vibration. Reduced complexity. Much longer service life than piston motors.

The chief issues with using a gas turbine for a car were discovered by Chrysler in their attempt to create a turbine-powered car from the 1950’s through the 1970’s. In fact, the Dodge Charger was originally slated to be powered by a gas turbine. The problems are:

• Lots of excess heat. This was partially solved by re-using heat for pre-ignition heat, which dramatically improves fuel economy and reduces exhaust heat to tolerable levels. Even with that, the thought of 50,000 automobiles producing twice the heat of piston-powered cars idling in the summer sun in Los Angeles makes me shudder.
• High fuel consumption at idle… but better fuel consumption than piston vehicles at highway speeds.
• “Throttle Lag”. From the moment you push the pedal down to the moment the vehicle responds is variable, from as good as perhaps a second and a half to as bad as seven seconds. Not very good off the line, and drivers are really annoyed by the lack of instant power.
• High repair costs. The fact is, machining turbine blades designed to turn 250,000 RPM in 1977 was very expensive. So, too, was manufacturing bearings for such high RPMs, and the lack of strong computing power made a reliable solution for managing RPMs and heat involve a lot of expensive machinery.

I drive a Honda Insight to and from work every day. It carries a highly-optimized, all-aluminum piston engine. I get approximately 54-57 MPG with an automatic transmission, and I don’t drive carefully to conserve fuel (when I do, my average is about 10MPG higher). The key ingredient, after the very light weight of the vehicle (1800 lbs), aerodynamics, and low-rolling-resistance tires, is the hybrid approach. The internal combustion motor is optimized for running at high RPMS, but the electric motor and NiMH battery pack provide about 1/3 of the torque and horspower (about 75HP) required to run the vehicle during acceleration and deceleration. This approach also allows the engine to run extremely cleanly, without the plumes of smoke commonly associated with a heavily-loaded piston engine during acceleration.

What if there were a turbine-powered hybrid?

Stick with me here a moment. Look at the advantages.

• Turbines don’t care what type of fuel feeds them. Natural gas, propane, kerosene, gasoline, diesel, biodiesel, hydrogen… they will burn it all without any modifications to the engine or timing. An on-board computer just manages the heat and RPMs to keep them within bounds. Piston-powered aircraft have to change compression settings, among other things, to make for fuel conversions, which involves opening the engine and installing shims or changing cylinder properties. An ECU for a turbine just modifies the speed of the compressor fan for the same result.
• If run at their optimum RPM range, turbines are very efficient. They have to be kept spinning and kept hot in order to produce power, and that complaint about burning lots of fuel it idle really does matter. What if that “idle” burn was being harnessed to charge batteries rather than wasted?
• Although I have a teeny little engine in my Insight — small enough, in fact, that I could lift it out of the engine compartment and it would be lighter than the cases full of tapes I sling around every day at work — the electric motor acts like a booster and eliminates throttle lag almost completely. It provides a substantial amount of torque at very low RPMs
• Compared to a pure electric vehicle, you eliminate weight, range, and recharge time requirements. For anything other than a commuter car, these concerns are a big deal.
• CNC machining and high-performance electronics allow turbines to operate in safe ranges at all times without tinkering, tuning, or expensive mechanical solutions. A cheap $400 computer with a few sensors will keep a turbine engine running in-spec, all the time.
• Ceramic bearings are ubiquitous and cheap today. This was a big part of the way Chrysler tried to reduce up-front cost, which increased repair costs: using lower-quality bearings.

This hybrid system I imagine would target a state-of-charge of around 50% on the batteries at all times. It would use Lithium-based batteries, probably based on the A123 M1 technology for extremely long life and robustness. These are the same cells used in DeWalt 36V cordless power tools. I own some of these tools, and the power density and safety of these cells is simply awesome. The turbine engine could be reduced to low idle when the batteries are above 50% SOC, and increased when above.

In fact, since there is no direct connection between the turbine and the drive shaft anyway, why not only have the turbine power the generator exclusively? This is the way big trains work: the Diesel turbines power electric generators. The primary thing stopping cars from working this way is the cost of the turbine motors, and the dramatic reduction in machining cost for small turbines might just fuel such a revolution. This would eliminate the complexity of a fully hybrid drive train, allow the turbine to operate at peak efficiency almost all the time, and let you keep the battery pack very small and light since the turbine is providing most of the juice to keep your car running while the batteries just help out during acceleration and deceleration to keep things efficient.

The U.S. government gave Chrysler a loan during the late 1970s in order to keep the company afloat. One of the restrictions on the loan was that they abandon their turbine car program. Chief reasons? The throttle lag and higher cost reduced demand for the vehicle, the high idle fuel consumption was contrary to US energy policy and consumer interest, and repair costs for turbines were much higher than internal combustion engines (largely due to the machining cost). The “alternative fuels” advantage was hardly on the collective US radar during the 1970s… just reducing emissions and fuel consumption for existing fuels. Each of these looks like “solved problems” today using a hybrid approach and CNC machining.

What do you think? Is such a thing feasible? Is it even desirable?

I think of a hydrogen-powered turbine hybrid… and think I see the most perfectly non-polluting, energy-efficient personal automobile one could drive. And I could do it using off-the-shelf, commodity battery packs, turbines, computers, sensors, and existing auto frames.

I had the opportunity earlier this week to interview for a job with a local company which has had explosive growth over the past few years. They dominate their market, boast a who’s-who of the Fortune 500 as customers, and have some nifty eye-candy computers in their Operations department. We negotiated salary, and they indicated a willingness to bump it up to my requirements if I was the right person for the job. The offer was attractive, the facility was beautiful, the amenities were appealing, and the commute was reasonable (though longer than I’d like). I really like Norman, and enjoyed talking to his two subordinates in the interview.

Why, then, did I want to turn the offer down?

Norman,

Thank you for the interview yesterday. It was nice to see you again, and I was pleased to meet Art and Russ. The company looks like a fun place to work, and seems poised for some exciting growth and changes over the coming year.

Unfortunately, as rewarding as the position could be I do not think that I am the best fit for the job right now. We discussed some concerns in the interview, and on further reflection I think that your company would be best served, at present, with someone else filling the role of Sr. Linux Administrator. I am happy that you considered me, however, and enjoyed the interview.

Should circumstances change in the future, our interests might be closer aligned, and I’d like to keep that door open.

Regards, Matthew P. Barnson

Even while leaving the interview, I realized it wasn’t a good fit. I regard Norman as a friendly acquaintance, and have known him for several years. I didn’t want to offend anyone. I simply didn’t want this job.

While climbing into my car, I was reminded of an experience I had while working at a little company called emWare several years ago. They hired me at the end of my six-month contract. I worked there just a little more than two weeks after that, then submitted my resignation. Shortly thereafter, I began working for my current employer.

Although I’d been aware of some problems with emWare, my first week was enlightening, and I desperately wanted to bolt. Shortly after I turned in my resignation, the CEO of the company — whom I’d only briefly met a few times — stopped by my cube and said, “Come with me”.

After a few pleasantries in a small private area outside the office, he asked pointedly, “Tell me why you are leaving. We just hired you, and you leaving after such a short time looks bad for both of us. You are really productive and knowledgeable, and your manager tells me that we should do all we can to keep you. Explain your reasoning to me. I want to know.”

“Well,” I began, and drew a breath. “First off, I learned this week that I was offered the job so that you could lay off two other people whom I respect. While I appreciate the implied compliment that I can do the work of three people, I like these individuals too much to continue working here knowing that you’re going to get rid of them if I remain. I couldn’t live with myself.

“Second, I learned that the company is living from deal-to-deal without having anything other than a marginal revenue stream from a single customer for a product which is not the company’s main focus. The company is circling the drain, and I didn’t get a full sense of this while contracting.

“Third, you changed the product’s back-end operating system from Sun Solaris to Microsoft Windows due to incompetent programming on the company’s part, and against my recommendations. I’m a UNIX administrator. Becoming a Microsoft Windows admin doesn’t fit into my career plans. The justification for this change is bogus, and works around a lack of knowledge on the part of your lead programmer, not a fault of the operating system. I now have an offer from another company which aligns better with my needs and plan to take it to get away from those sort of bone-headed technical decisions that everyone goes along with because they are afraid of offending the Prima-Donna lead programmer.

“Lastly, I realized that nobody is buying the product because it doesn’t do the job right, you’ve broken what little compatibility you had with the first revision with the new revision, and there is only a tiny market for this kind of product… and, frankly, the product sucks.”

The CEO peered over his glasses at me in consternation. “You know I can’t tell people that. In fact, while you are still here, I’d ask you not to tell anyone that.” He paused a moment, then said, “Knowing that I don’t accept your premise…” There was a pregnant pause. He then raised an eyebrow in a clear indication of what he was asking for, “…why are you leaving?”

“Uhh… because I have a better offer with another company?”

He nodded, indicating for me to continue.

“…And the move to a back-end Microsoft Windows platform doesn’t align with my career goals?” I responded hopefully.

“Good man,” he said, patting my arm affectionately. “We’ll miss having you here, and I’m sure we would have had a wonderful relationship. You have to look out for what’s best for your family, of course. And Matt,” he said in a cautionary tone, “feel free to share that reason for leaving if anyone asks.”

(Mental blur with wavy lines on the TV screen, back to the present…)

Memories, memories. A little over a year later, the company shrunk to 1/10 of its former size, and was bought by one of its customers. The reason it was purchased was based solely on that one tiny product which had brought them a meager revenue stream from the customer who bought them… and didn’t suck.

Anyway, I kind of felt like that walking out of this interview. I had all kinds of reasons floating through my head that, if I’m to be inoffensive, I can’t fully disclose to my prospective employer.

I looked at the massive revenue growth of this company over the past few years, the inflation of its stock value, and the incredible increase in staff and processes… and it concerns me. I’ve seen this pattern before. I’ve been an employee in a company in this pattern before. The next step is a year or so of stability and improving efficiency before the stock price plummets to a more reasonable level, and then there’s a massive layoff to right-size the company when the market is finally saturated enough for customers to begin shopping around. I see it coming, like an avalanche gaining speed from the assortment of tiny cues lingering around the office.

The burnt-out-looking office worker nursing a cup of coffee past a three-day growth of beard who doesn’t even grunt a hello while walking beside you. The Xbox which isn’t getting played with in the break room. The people who don’t really seem to care about what they are doing anymore. The technical manuals on the shelf with a light coating of dust from disuse. The bustling activity of a few people surrounded by the “I need to look as if I am working” bustle of many others. It’s not one thing, but a host of small visual and auditory cues telling me “something ain’t quite right”.

Then there’s the business model. I can’t get into too many details without giving away who the company is, and I don’t want to mention names. Suffice to say, what the company does for a living gives me the heebie-jeebies. They exist in the murky world of internet marketing, and although they seem perfectly legitimate and are market darlings, they make a business of doing something I find personally repugnant. As cool as the actual job would be, knowing that my work was ultimately supporting a type of activity I strongly dislike is too much cognitive dissonance for me.

Yeah, I know, I probably am going to die poor and alone because I missed a fantastic opportunity. Maybe that’s not so bad as long as I can live with myself.

From News of the Weird:

News of the weird – online couple caught cheating with each other

Posted Sep 19th 2007 10:00AM by Dolores Parker Filed under: Fun, Internet, News

We’re not sure what the odds are of this happening – maybe the same odds of landing a hole in one in golf or getting struck by lightning, but with the internet and the guise of anonymity it offers, we will probably hear more of this.

A married couple, who separately and discreetly, were both using online chat rooms to get a little action on the side, had little idea they were initiating an adulterous affair with one another! Using the pseudonyms, Prince of Joy and Sweetie (that should have been their first clue right there) Adnan and Sonia, a couple from Bosnia were horrified to discover the identity of each other at their first and final rendezvous.

The couple filed for divorce for reasons of betrayal and unfaithfulness. Now c’mon. Wouldn’t you think that after getting over the initial shock they would discover they were perfect for each other? They could start a new enterprise devoted to helping others in their own dismal marriages re-discover one another. Imagine. The Prince of Joy and Sweetie Marriage Institute. Verging on adultery, but not really.