Man On A Street

In one of my workplace's cluster chatrooms, Juvenal, one of our dev specs, logged out and told his colleage: "Kelvs, take over -- don't be obnoxious and petulant, hehe." And i piped in with the equivalent softspeak: "Avoid being a neotenic anal orifice" -- "don't be an immature @$$hole." Neoteny. The retention of juvenile (Juvenal, this is another synchro, hekhek) -- baby, larval -- characteristics even up to sexual maturity. Kinda like being a retard. Except that this is to one's advantage. I could be one. I just had my 36th birthday the other day -- and my teammates brought a cake with fat "26" numeral candles -- whyy, thank you. : ) Some anthropologists think neoteny in humans (at least, Homo sapiens ) is a survival strategy that triggered nurturing instincts in the other primate species -- the Neanderthals et al -- they found us cute -- we resemble fetal chimpanzees. And mature toy dogs resemble fetal wolves. Question: Who do...

We want you to know our products and services are better than those of our competitiors. We are friendly. We are safe. We can be trusted. Here are our company colors. [Boss (to his staff): "Why do we consistently get a low confidence rating?"]

If you work for someone, then work for him: Speak well of him and stand by the institution he represents. Remember, an ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness. If you must growl, condemn, and eternally find fault, resign your position and when you are on the outside, complain to your hearts content. But as long as you are a part of the institution do not condemn it. ~ Elbert Hubbard Gawd. Generations of people have posted versions of this quotation in countless bulletin boards (there's a version set to stanzas so it reads like freeverse) . It's been posted so much, people automatically accept it without question. What many fail to grasp is the key idea: "If you work for a man, then he owns your @$$." A man. The owner. The one who can do what he damn well pleases. If you work for him, you are pwned -- and if you want to stay long in your job, cover your @$$ -- unless he tells you to bend over. A very practical advice from @$$-Kissing 101. But not for everybody...

Even if you can deceive people about a product through misleading statements, sooner or later the product will speak for itself. - Hajime Karatsu I love fortune (the command-line program): [caption id="attachment_121" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Terminal with Fortune output"] [/caption] Googling for an easy definition led me to this delightful essay by Neal Stephenson on operating systems -- synchronicity galore -- I'll just add that Eloi were food for the carnivore Morlock. Oh, and some would call atrocious acts "Predator's Prerogative" rather than acted out fantasies of the unrespectful (don't mind me . . .).

A text message from a friend: An inspiring fact to bear in mind: Mathematics may not teach us to breathe oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide, or to love a friend and to forgive an enemy, but it gives us every reason to hope that every problem has a solution . . . . . . Oyes . . . or at least, makes some people believe they are God.

I remember watching a gory episode on Discovery Channel in the 90s (there's a similar portion on National Geographic's "Planet Earth"). It was about a raiding party of chimpanzees attacking (and eating) a straggler from another troop -- a mother chimpanzee and its young. The last frame was poignant (ok, the music could have been a factor): close-up on one of the perpetrators' face -- looking innocent like a puppy -- fade to white -- it was like looking at ourselves. Altamira . . . Lascaux . . . Art, Magic, Religion, War -- and haute cuisine -- all were hatched in the same caves -- probably by the same people . . . an ordinary grunt couldn't have conceived them . . . War is people feeding on itself. Painting itself with the blood of its victims, wearing their victims' skins (trinkets, trinkets, souvenirs and the ethnic chic) -- giving them special power, special knowledge . . . Art, Cuisine, Cannibalism (War) and Magic -- people who can paint, cook, eat you...