Is there an antidote?

I feared I’d lost the ability to rant yesterday, but I saw a news item about a sweetshop owner who had been asked to remove his billboard outside his shop and exploded in incandescent and apoplectic rage, huffing and puffing with righteous indignation. It quite upset my chakras my chi hasn’t been best pleased since.

The owner in question displays humorous spoof headlines on a billboard outside his shop to entertain his customers – headlines such as “Crawley Girl Gives Birth to Pitbull" and "Local Youths Abduct UFO", which I find both inoffensive and acutely humorous.

A police spokesman said: "While passing on routine patrol last month an officer did have a friendly conversation with the shop owner. At no point did we suggest that he could be arrested - although if there was a law about having a dodgy sense of humour, there might well be a case.”

Dodgy sense of humour? DODGY SENSE OF HUMOUR? There’s nothing dodgy about the shop owner’s sense of humour – at least the bugger has one, unlike the killjoy bastard who complained.

A spokesman for Horsham District Council said: "We can confirm that the council has received recent complaints about what has been written on the A-board outside the shop. As a message posted there was considered to be potentially offensive, a street scene officer from the council asked for its removal."

Potentially offensive? I’ll tell you what is definitely offensive - self-appointed arbiters of the potentially offensive – that’s what’s offensive! If someone is offended, then let them complain and articulate (if they can) a valid reason for being offended – then, and only then is action justified by the guardians of the public morals.

Right-wing dictatorships send people to prison for what they may ‘potentially’ do, not democracies. Democratic rules should apply to potentially offensive material – let there be demonstrable and testable proof that offence is taken before a decision is made to restrict someone’s freedom.

Been bitterly pissed off at work this week. I’ve been crying out for some form of Customer Relationship Management (CRM) system for a couple of years now – or even just a contact management system; a simple PC-based database system with a half decent front-end would do. What have the power that be decided? To apply the full might of an Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) system to the task, which is like using a JCB earth mover to cut your toenail. For the cognoscenti, it’s Efacs fronting Prophix, which gives you an idea of the complexity and unsuitability.

The problem is that we’re a large conglomerate with an Italian parent and the policy is that one-size-fits-all, so they’ve adapted what is essentially a front end to a financial reporting system to make it look like a CRM system, and it just doesn’t work. Like the earth mover analogy, it’s overly complicated, ponderously slow and doesn’t actually provide the functionality we people at the coalface need. We’re told that anything bought from outside (i.e. a dedicated, purpose designed, commonly available, off-the-shelf package for a few thousand quid) simply will not be supported by our IT department – who as far as I’m concerned has become the business prevention team.

Whereas I would have simply bought in something like the ACT contact management system, the company has spent hundreds of thousands of pounds on an internal development that’s taken two years thus far and is effectively unfit for purpose. It’s utterly incomprehensible. The phrase ‘lions led by donkeys’ comes to mind.

For God’s sake – we’re still using Lotus Notes as our e-mail tool, which in a fast moving sales environment is plain stupid as there are no APIs to web-based sales aids (Plaxo, Linked-In, etc) because so few people actually use Lotus Notes anymore. It’s as friendly as a cornered rat. The problem stems from our parent being hush-hush, where security is paramount, and Lotus Notes is the best system for such environments – however, my part of the business is not involved in the hush-hush bit at all.

Rant over.

Had occasion to dispense some wisdom yesterday to a fellow blogger. It wasn’t my wisdom, I hasten to add, but that of Petronius Arbiter, one time governor of the Roman province of Bythynia. However, it goes to show how the same old problems keep coming up to plague us.

“We tried hard – but it seemed that every time we were beginning to form up into teams, we would be reorganised. I was to learn later in life that we tend to meet any new situations by reorganising –and a wonderful method it can be for creating the illusion of progress while producing confusion, inefficiency and demoralisation.”

Sound wisdom, although it has to be said that there are occasions when reorganisation is a distinct necessity.

Hay and I went out for a Moroccan meal last night - I wanted to cheer her up as she's not at all well of late. On returning home we switched the TV on to be presented with an episode of Guitar Heroes. The Knack were on and unfortunately I caught a dose of 'My Sherona' and haven’t been able to shake it off since. It must be one of the most infectious songs ever written and I don’t think there’s an antidote to it. If anyone knows of one, please let me know.

Am I cured?

Nothing to say for 2 days in a row! Could it be that I'm cured?

Funeral of the BNP

Watched about an hour of the the Michael Jackson gig on TV last night. It was a wonder they hadn’t dragooned David Dimbleby in to do the sombre voice-over for BBC2 (why does my spell-checker spell it as somber?). I have to say though that Mariah Carey just annoys the shit out of me with her self-indulgent vocal gymnastics. Stevie Wonder’s and Lionel Richie’s sets, however, were sublime – but what else would you expect from such consummate professionals, even if they do dye their hair. Lots of shouty civil rights people yelling at the audience though; they must take lessons in how to be loud and how to turn an event into a rally – no matter how incongruous or inappropriate the occasion.

Wonderful news for British National Party supporters; a study has found that illegal immigrants do not queue-jump the indigenous UK population when it comes to being offered social housing. Thank God that this myth, which the BNP perpetuate, can at last be laid to rest. Now they will have to start articulating the real reason they don’t like immigrants – because they have the sheer nerve and effrontery to be different.

Busy, busy, busy

Again I have little time to post (off to Christchurch in a few minutes), so I'll leave you with some more photos of the motors at the Heddington Steam Rally last weekend.

Had one of these (Triumph Dolimite Sprint).

Wish I had one of these (Bristol).

Had one of these, but a 110 rather than a 60. Called it Battlestar Galactica.

Lust after one of these.


Morgan 3 Wheelers .


MG

Had one of these, but in Wolsey Hornet livery.

Rebuilt more of these than I care to remember - 4 at least.


This one's a bit of a bugger to drive - keeps wanting to take to the air (WWII Rolls Royce Merlin engine).

Lord of the Flies

Got bitten on the calf by some damned bug on Saturday – probably a horsefly. While I have good calf definition and have legs resembling those of a rugby player, the effect of the swelling made me look as if I’d contracted elephantiasis or had had one of Arnie Schwarzenegger’s legs sewn on in place of my own.


We went to Heddington yesterday to see Eric and his wife. Eric has previously received attention in the blog – he’s an excellent baker, a bagpipe player of note and a wood carver, although none of these skills are used to generate income, which seems a great pity.

Below are some of his wood carvings. The first is an unfinished carving of the back of the head and derriere of a naked woman. The object of the finished work is to fix it to a wooden door and create the illusion of the woman walking through the solid door.


This next one is a staff he made from a cherry bough. Unfortunately the photo does not show the intricate work along the shaft.


We went to the Heddingon Steam Rally, where I saw the following rather amusing sign.


I’ll finish with a somewhat incongruous drag-tractor from the rally.

The Great Wall of Old Sodbury

We demolished yet another stone wall yesterday, which has yielded plenty of building material for the embellishment of Badger's End.

The sheep were removed from the field too, and Mick (the farmer next door) came round to give the field a short back and sides.



Thoughts this week have been turned to roofing materials. I took a few shots of barn-style buildings earlier this week while in Basildon, althought perhaps Beefeater and Harvester restaurants in Essex are not the ideal templates of contemporary rural style. They do, however, provide a guide to what colour roof tiles would be aesthetically pleasing.




I think I prefer the dark brown, which is in keeping with the barn in Berkshire on which we've based our design (below - click to enlarge).

Axis of evil

I have discerned an axis of evil among my readers.

If you look at the map of hits on the Feedjit thingummy you’ll see a very definite pattern starting in Stockholm and passing in a graceful arc through Malmo, Berlin, Munich, Milan, Nimes, Montpellier, Figueres and Caceres before finally crossing the Atlantic.

Zurich slightly spoils the arc, but I know for a fact that the Zurich hit is virtual and actually originates in the Cotswolds.

What is the meaning of this pattern? Is it an avid reader engaged in a European tour? Is it readers communicating telepathically along magical ley lines? Perhaps a defensive ring of readers preventing me accruing an Eastern European readership?

I must try to extend the eastern marches of my European empire.

Dilbert, satnavs and art

Been in sales and strategy meetings at HQ for two days solid. Occasionally we’d have a short break from the meeting so that we could go to our computers and e-mail each other. Ludicrous when you think about it.

On the way back from Basildon to Old Sodbury my satnav advised me to take a detour off the M25 due to congestion ahead. I ignored it. Guess what happened? Yes, 200 yards after the junction the satnav advised me to turn off at the traffic came to a standstill.

Finally managed to reach the M4, upon which the satnav advised me to take another detour to miss a section near Slough. This time I took the advice and ended up in a stationary queue on a country road alongside the M4. The traffic on the M4 was trundling past at a steady 50 MPH. After 10 minutes a eventually doubled back for 2 miles and rejoined the M4 without having any further problems.

It would appear that where satnavs are concerned you should make a decision, and then reverse it at the last minute.

I’ve decided to make a break with my dinosaur past. While I am extremely comfortable with degrees centigrade, metres and litres, I have never managed to move away from miles per gallon when it comes to fuel consumption – despite the fact we’ve been purchasing the stuff in litres for donkey’s years. This weekend I’m going to change the settings on the car’s computer to indicate miles per litre.

Haven’t had much time to observe the world news over the last couple of days, so commentary is sparse today. I did notice, however, that artist Antony Gormley is to start exhibiting people on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square today. To me it seems an utterly pointless celebration of the dull and mundane, which has come to typify modern art and the clamour for celebrity and self-promotion. I’m with Brian Sewell in that much of what passes for modern art belongs in a circus side-show.

Broom Cupboard Photos

Haven't had time to write a post today as I'm off to HQ at sparrow's fart for a couple of days to be shouted at by my boss for no accountable reason, other than it makes him feel good to blame someone else for his own inaction. Been there before and it's like water off a duck's back.

Instead I'll exhibit one of the photos I found on my work mobile when inspecting it last night. Don't usually use it for photographic work, and hence stuff gets left there to rot.

By the time this is publised I'll be somewhere between Old Sodbury and Basildon.

Tap, National Beard Week and trite statements of values

Found the video of Spinal Tap at Glasto. Apparently they received a vote of 11/10 for their set.

Are you aware that it’s National Beard Week? The Beard Liberation Front is promoting a series of events around the country aimed at combating beardism. Last night I registered my beard on the National Beard Register.

Today I want to mention trite value statements by large corporations and public bodies. When I went with Hay for her MRI scan to the local NHS hospital I saw the notice reproduced below.


People who run large organizations have a habit of being a little too free with their use of the word ‘we’ when communicating their aims and aspirations. They assume far too much and believe just because they have an aspirational notice tacked on the wall that everyone working there subscribes to the aspiration. The truth is that few actually do, as they do not like having values imposed on them by faceless bureaucrats who have done nothing more customer-focused than hiring an expensive PR agency to advise them on how to appear more touchy-feely. Also it is rare for senior managers to put processes in place to enable those on the shop floor to actually meet the articulated aspirations, even if they want to. As such they are vacuous nonsense and almost all of us recognise this. It’s nothing more than the Emperor’s New Clothes syndrome.

The second paragraph is simply laughable: “We recognise that each patient is unique.” The NHS has, by its very nature and budget constraints, to be geared toward moving the most people through the system in the shortest possible time. There is no time for uniqueness, and most of us actually accept that as a necessary consequence of what is ostensibly a free service. “Personal beliefs and lifestyles are treated with respect, dignity and without prejudice,” it goes on to say. I think not, given all the stuff we hear in the news about zero tolerance toward smokers, drinkers and obese people seeking medication, I think they’re as respectful of lifestyles as Mugabe is of democracy.

By the cunning use of the word ‘we’, these notices shift the onus on achieving such aspirations to the customer-facing staff and away from senior management. What I’d rather see is the same notice, but with the word ‘we’ replaced by ‘I’ and signed by the Chief Executive, with his personal contact details in case of complaints.

While on the subject of customer service, don’t you just detest those call queuing systems that put you on hold for the statutory 10 minutes and then have the gall to play a recorded message telling you how much they value your custom, when clearly they couldn’t give a stuff about you as otherwise they’d ensure they had enough operators in the call centre in the first place. Once you do eventually get through to a human you can't understand a bloody word they say as they're based in deepest India and have an unintelligible accent, or you get through to someone in an unemployment blackspot earing 2p an hour and speaking in the thickest Geordie dialect you've ever heard. It’s nothing more than a balancing act of putting pissed off customers on one side of the scale and lost revenue on the other.

We have to accept that shoddy customer service is here to stay when we put more value on cheap services than individual attention. You’re apt to put up with waiting for 10 minutes in a queue if you’re only going to have to deal with the imbeciles on the other end of the phone once a year. If, on the other hand, you’re in regular contact with a service, then more value is put on a high quality of customer experience and you'll be tempted to pay more for the privilege.

I hear the Royal Family cost us all 3p a year more last year. It’s about time the Royal Family was privatised and the job put out to tender.

In scenes reminiscent of the Great Old Sodbury Parish Council Election Fraud of ’54, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been confirmed as the President of Iran.

Someone landed on the blog last night after a Google search on “poetry for children”. I trust they were not too upset.

Re yesterday’s post on Richard Dawkins’ plans for secular summer camps to teach critical thinking, here’s an interesting story from the USA on gun ownership and the church.