Out of cryogenics

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Various rabbit posts

My day on public transport

So, I have to be in Cranbourne for a 10am meeting. The night before, I do the right thing and check the PTV Journey Planner website. It tells me that I need to catch a train from Armadale Station, to Caulfield, catch the 8:38 to Merinda Park, get off and catch the 799 to where I need to go. Being the diligent, law-abiding citizen that I am, I top up my myki with $20 and go to bed, secure in the knowledge that my journey will be 70 minutes and I should be there, comfortably at 9:41.

Jolly good.

The next morning, Amy kindly gives me a lift to the station, kisses me goodbye and wishes me a safe trip. I’m a touch early so after I touch on my myki, I settle down on a bench, put my fully charged iPod onto shuffle and watch all the worker drones waiting for the train into the city on the platform opposite. The train to Caulfield arrives and I board it and take a seat and without incident I arrive at Caulfield station. I walk down the ramp, through the underpass, overtaking slow moving pedestrians until I get to platform 4. The sign there tells me the Cranbourne train is 5 minutes away, so I start to play Solitaire on my iPod. A barely intelligible, static-filled announcement tells me that the Cranbourne train is now delayed. Thinking to myself that there is a ten-minute space between the train’s arrival and my connecting buses departure, I sigh and hope for the best. 8 minutes later the sign is updated to let me know the train will arrive in 4 minutes.

Shit.

Knowing that the bus runs every 45 minutes, I realise that I will probably be late. I decide that as a contingency, I should probably catch a taxi, as I don’t want to be late. Remember how I topped up my myki? Well, I wasn’t sure how much money I had in each account, so I open up my banking app on my iPhone to check my balance, and I type in my password, but the app tells me there is no Internet service at one of the major public transport hubs in Melbourne and I should use phone banking instead. I call them, use the prompts as directed to find out I don’t have enough money in my savings. I then realise that my other account is not set up to use as phone banking.

Bloody shit.

I call Amy and describe my predicament, she helpfully offers to transfer me money, wishes me luck, expresses her contempt at the typical bullshit of Melbourne public transport and we say our goodbyes. I get a text from her a few minutes later letting me know the state of my finances. Cool. I’m set if I need to catch a taxi. The train arrives 14 minutes after it is scheduled to and I take a seat and continue playing Solitaire… It seems that this particular driver really, really, really wants to make it to Cranbourne on time. I mean he REALLY wants to. We proceed to rocket towards what I shall refer to euphemistically as Hell. The train shakes, and roars around corners, I get slammed into the window repeatedly as we rock back and forth, inside a hundred-metre, whistling steel tube of rattling death. Every stop is a sudden lurch forward as the driver frantically tries to stop at each platform. Every departure is a breakfast curdling explosion of G-forces that approach velocities that would enable us to leave the Earth’s orbit.

Crap.

Despite the terrifying ride to Hell, I am reassured that I just might, possibly make my connecting bus, if we continue at this rate. I send a text to Amy, joking that I considered catching an earlier train so I would get to my destination 45 minutes early instead of 20. Amy replies: “You shouldn’t have to be super early because trains are dicks”. I concur. I send another text saying the train is very fast and I might make it. Reply: “fingers crossed”. I send another text - 7 minutes to go 2 stops. The train pulls up to Lyndale station, only 1 more stop with 4 minutes to spare! The driver has pulled 10 minutes out of his arse; I reckon I might make it. Except I don’t. The train just sits there. It sits there for 5 minutes. Perhaps the brakes needed to cool down. Maybe the driver needed a smoke and a cup of tea to calm down a bit. Whatever the fuck the reason was I am now definitely going to miss that bus.

Bloody bastardy shit.

With it now being the time where I should be on the bus to go to the meeting, I decide to call them to let them know I might be a bit late. They seem fine about it and tell me not to worry and to let them know when I’m on my way. The train leaves Lyndale Station at a snail's pace and gently ambles its way towards Merinda Park Station. As it approaches the station, I turn off my game of Solitaire, stand up and walk to the doors as it pulls up to the platform. The little beeping noise erupts, letting me know I can open the doors. I can’t open the door. I press the button. I press it again. I saying something in the vicinity of “open the fucking door, you stupid fucking arseclown train”. They just beep at me to let me know that they are now closing and to stand clear.

Goddam mother-fucking balls of arseclowning buggery shit.

So I’m on my way to Cranbourne station now. I send a text to Amy. IN ALL CAPS. I’m a tad peevish at this stage. The train pulls up at Cranbourne, I’ve got the 13CABS app open and I’m booking a taxi as I walk off the platform. I don’t touch off. Fuck you Metro. Fuck you very much. Taxi booked, I stand on the street to wait. I wait. I continue to wait. I call the company and explain to the lovely person answering that I really, really need to be somewhere 15 minutes ago. They assure me that a taxi is just around the corner. As I hang up, a taxi arrives. “At last” I sigh, “I’m going to make it. Albeit late, but not too late”. The driver winds down his window: “You got a booking, mate?” Yes. Yes I do. “What name?” I tell him my name. “Nah, sorry mate. The booking I’ve got’s for Matthew.” I really wish someone had taken a picture of my face at that moment. The look of soul-crushing disappointment washing over my ebullient face would have been worthy of an Academy Award. Even if Gary Oldman or Leonardo Di Caprio had done it.

Flaming balls of steaming piles of massive chunks of arseclowning buggery fuckity shit.

He drives off, and turns into the station as I stand there despondent, alone, and awash in an empty sea of salty disappointment. Approximately 2 minutes later he returns, driving towards me. “What’s this?” I think to myself. “Has he realised that it was me after all? Will he take me now?” No. No he won’t take me. Not in his taxi. No way. That would be akin to me giving him money to drive me somewhere and he was having none of that. Not now, not ever. He did let me know that he’d radioed base and asked them to send another taxi for me.

Massive, gigantic, steaming heaps of stacks of flaming balls of bullshit-on-a-bike with an extra serving of bollocks on the side.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Just.

Happened?

Looking around me for the hidden cameras and expecting Kyle Sandilands to pop out and say “Ha Ha Fuck you, dickhead!!!” I stand there unsure of my place in this crazy, mixed up, taxi-not-wanting-to-take-you-somewhere-for-money world. I sigh. A strange guttural noise escapes my throat. It’s almost a laugh.

About 2 minutes later, another taxi arrives. “Are you Nigel?” He asks. “Where do you want to go?” The door is opened, I’m seated and doing up my seat belt before I answer him. He knows where that is. He knows an awesome shortcut. I call the people I’m meeting “I’ll be 10-15 minutes." I say. The driver says: “No, 5 minutes, 7 tops.” He’s awesome. We both agree that public transport is a fucking joke and that all politicians, everywhere in the world are moronic arseclowns. Although the chances of him being blown up are less in Australia so we can’t be too critical of the place. I have a new hero. He drops me off within 10 metres of the front door, takes my money (via EFTPOS) and wishes me luck. What a guy. I stride up the stairs, 3 at a time, burst into reception. 30 minutes after my scheduled time. The receptionist, with a big smile says “You must be Nigel” I smile back and say “You must be Debbie”. She points me to a seat, I sit. 5 minutes later I’m in a meeting room. They know my story. They ask how I am. I reply along the lines of: I could be swearing and smashing things, but I’d rather just laugh and deal with it. The second driver really helped with that.

At 11:10 the meeting is over, and one of the people there explains the best way to get to the nearest bus to get home. I thank him, leave the premises and call Amy to tell her how it went. It went well bye the way. Thanks for asking.

I walk to Casey Central Shopping Centre where there are 5 bus stops. Five. I counted them. Moving from one to the next while checking if any of them go to a train station, I finally discover that the fifth one does. I also discover that the next bus is in 25 minutes. Balls. I wait. I play some more Solitaire. I wait. A young couple arrive and take a seat next to me. If you were to do a Google image search of “Bogan” I reckon that they would be in the first 10 pictures. He lights up what I can only assume is a Winfield Blue - under the shelter. She proceeds to call someone a “Farging, slag cund bidge” or words to that effect. If there’s a worldwide shortage of blue eyeliner sometime soon, blame her. 35 minutes later the bus arrives. Melbourne’s finest collection of feet on seats, thongs and crap T-shirts is on display. I’m wearing a Ben Sherman suit, and a tie. I stand out on this bus. And it’s not because I have all my teeth and don’t slur my words, or call people “Fargin’ cunds”. Through the power of Google maps I know when to get off the bus, back at good old Cranbourne Station. Or is it Cranbin? I’m not so sure anymore. I dodge semi trailers as I run across a freeway. The nearest pedestrian crossing must be in Moorabin. I can’t see one. I walk past the Holden dealership and walk inside the train station. The pianist stops playing as everyone in the saloon stares at the stranger in his new-fangled, fancy-lookin’ city clothes. There’s a girl sitting opposite me, she looks nice, quite pretty, but her skirt is too short. She crosses her legs. She has a red G-string on. I probably didn’t need to see that. A friend of hers arrives and sits next to her. They proceed to call someone they both know a “Fargin’ bidge face slag”. She crosses her legs again. Oh for fucks sake.

I almost left out the best bit. The train is due at 1:05. It’s 12:40 when I get there. So an hour and a half after I left, I only have to wait another 25 minutes. I try and keep my eyes on my iPod and play Solitaire, but it’s Cranbourne and I’m wearing a suit, so I’m on Super High Danger Alert. I have it all rehearsed in my head, if anyone asks, I’m wearing a suit “coz’ I’m gunna to court for GBH for glassen some cund for loogin at my girlfriend Shazza wrong. Oright?” Finally, the train arrives. Early. Allow me to repeat that. The train was early. By about five minutes. I stand up, and I’m given one last gynaecological flash as I go take my seat on the train at 1 o’clock. Five minutes later. We leave. The train has an announcement to make…

“This is a Flinders Street Station train stopping all stations to Malvern, then express to South Yarra.” Bet you can’t guess where my station is? Go on take a guess. That’s right, between Malvern and South Yarra. I couldn’t be arsed swearing at this stage. I sigh and continue playing Solitaire. Except my iPod is flashing the little low battery signal at me. The iPod that was fully charged this morning. I’ve spent so much time waiting for trains and buses; I’ve nearly exhausted my iPod. I stop playing, lock my iPod and put it in my pocket, to conserve batteries. I’m not travelling on Melbourne Public Transport without music. No frickin’ way, man. No way.

I look around the train. Sitting diagonally opposite to me is a tall, blonde woman in her 20’s reading a textbook. She is wearing a short, white dress. She crosses her legs. Her underpants match her dress. Thank God for that. I couldn’t think of anything worse than people being able to see black underpants through her white dress. I open up Facebook on my phone so I don’t have to see any more underwear.

The train stops at Malvern. I get off and walk to Wattletree road tram stop. As I get to the corner, a tram goes by. I would have liked to have caught that tram. Pity. I wait. I write and send some abusive tweets to @MetroTrains. I feel a bit better. After waiting 8 minutes, another tram arrives. Almost home.

The tram approaches my stop; I pull the cord that signifies to the driver that a passenger would like to get off at the next stop. The tram sails past my stop. I lose it. I take my headphones out, and using my best pissed-off teacher voice, the one that the kids jump when I use, I ask the driver if he wasn’t supposed to stop there. “Sorry, mate. I forgot.” Fine. Whatever. Give a fuck anymore. The tram stops. I get off. I don’t thank the driver. Fuck him and his forgetting to stop at stops. I go to cross Dandenong road, shouting at drivers to hurry the fuck up so I can cross the fucking road, the half brain dead arseclowns.

I made it home. At 2:33. I left the meeting at 11:10. It took me 3 hours and 13 minutes to get home, longer than it took me to get there. I made myself a coffee, patted my pet rabbit, Mabel and then wrote this.

Oh and that meeting that I had. It was a job interview. And I nailed it. Should find out if I get it tomorrow.


UPDATE: I didn't get the job. However, they were impressed with my interview and I am encouraged to apply for any other positions there that may arise.

Limits to free speech

[via]

How is this a problem?

Where is this?
Since when is small Scotch terrier-like dogs riding on skateboards while smoking and drinking brandy considered common and annoying enough to prohibit?

Stop Tony 2012

If...

If:
a) It wasn't boiling hot outside.
b) A bean-bag wasn't put in the bin, necessitating me to remove it from bin and redistribute the overflowing rubbish from three other bins.
c) My neighbours hadn't spent the last hour drilling into concrete.
d) Every time I go outside for a cigarette, my creepy and overweight neighbour didn't also come outside - Shirtless.
e) The media didn't just blindly regurgitate bollocks about politics, which the public then blindly follows.


I would be having a quiet, peaceful, relaxing Sunday

People are citizens on the internet too

I used to be a blogger

You can tell Monopoly is an old game

Text from a tweet by @gknaus (Greg Knauss)

Image via 

Stop SOPA of the day

An important reminder from blackout participant The Oatmeal of all the wonderful things at stake in sitting idly by while SOPA/PIPA are allowed to pass.

Look it up.

[via oatmeal.]

It's been so long since I found these that apart from the xkcd comic, I've forgotten where I stole these from...

SOPA condemned by web giants as 'internet blacklist bill'

from The Guardian by Dominic Rushe

Google, Twitter and eBay say controversial Stop Online Piracy Act would give US authorities too much power over websites. Internet giants went on the attack on Wednesday, claiming legislation aimed at tackling online piracy would create an "internet blacklist bill" that would encourage censorship, kill jobs and give US authorities unrivalled powers over the world's websites. Internet firms including Wikipedia owner Wikimedia, eBay, Google, Twitter and others protested as Congress discussed the controversial Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) now passing through Washington. The act aims to tackle online piracy by giving the US Justice Department new powers to go after websites, both domestically and abroad, that host disputed copyright material. The act would allow the US to effectively pull the plug on websites and go after companies that support them technically or through payment systems. A vote on the bill could come as early as next month.

Maria Pallante, register of copyrights, told the committee: "As we all know, the internet harbours a category of bad faith actors whose very business models consist of infringing copyright in American books, software, movies, and music with impunity.” She said these "rogue" sites were the "dark side of the internet", and that while American authors, publishers, and producers had been asked to invest in online commerce, "in critical circumstances we have left them to compete with thieves." SOPA would redress the balance she claimed by "ensuring that our law keeps pace with infringers." She said the act would requires "all key members of the online ecosystem, including service providers, search engines, payment processors, and advertising networks, to play a role in protecting copyright interests".

Mel Watt, a North Carolina Democrat and one of the bill's sponsors, dismissed as "hyperbolic" charges the bill "will open the floodgates to government censorship." He said the comments belittled "the circumstances under which true victims of tyrannical governments actually live." The act has powerful support from the United States Chamber of Commerce, the Motion Picture Association of America, the American Federation of Musicians, the Directors Guild of America, the Screen Actors Guild and drug companies keen for a crackdown on online pharmacies undercutting US sales. But it has met with almost universal criticism from the tech community. Mozilla, maker of the Firefox web browser, blacked out its name on its home page in an anti-SOPAprotest, as did Reddit, the social news site. Tumblr launched a page attacking the act, and firms including AOL, eBay, Facebook, Google, Twitter and Zynga criticised SOPA in a full-page advertisement in The New York Times. "We support the bills' stated goals – providing additional enforcement tools to combat foreign 'rogue' websites that are dedicated to copyright infringement or counterfeiting. Unfortunately, the bills as drafted would expose law-abiding US internet and technology companies to new and uncertain liabilities, private rights of action, and technology mandates that would require monitoring of websites," the firms wrote. "We are concerned that these measures pose a serious risk to our industry's continued track record of innovation and job creation, as well as to our nation's cyber-security."

In a blog post, Google said: "We strongly support the goal of the bill – cracking down on offshore websites that profit from pirated and counterfeited goods – but we're concerned the way it's currently written would threaten innovation, jobs, and free expression." Art Bordsky, spokesman for Public Knowledge, a Washington-based public policy group, said SOPA was "the proverbial bull in the proverbial china shop" and that the bill as it stands would have "terrible consequences" for the internet. "The international aspects alone are very worrying," he said. "It appears that the US is taking control of the entire world. The definitions written in the bill are so broad that any US consumer who uses a website overseas immediately gives the US jurisdiction the power to potentially take action against it."

At present, if Facebook, YouTube, or other leading websites are found to be holding copyright material without permission, then they are told to take it down. SOPA would make it possible for the US to block the website. Such far-reaching powers could kill smaller firms and put off investors from financing new companies, said Holmes Wilson, co-founder of Fight For The Future, a lobbying group. "Everybody uses the internet every day, these days. Everyone realises how important freedom is online. This isn't just for geeks anymore," he said. "The worst part of this bill is that the vast majority of the damage will be invisible – it will be all the companies that never start because this bill has effectively killed them."

Many of you have heard of a bill that may be passed in the U.S.A. that will effectively take away many of the privileges of the internet.

What does this mean for you?

Well basically, if this bill goes through, you can say goodbye to this blog.

I won’t fill up your dashboard with another lengthy explanation about what this bill does, but you can read about it here and read it in full here.

For more information:

American Censorship Day
The White House Petition 
Tumblr’s Protect The Net
Change.org

Rebecca McKinnon in NYT: SOPA will strengthen the Great Firewall of China

from Boing Boing by Cory Doctorow

James Losey from New American Foundation says, "Rebecca MacKinnon, former CNN Beijing Bureau Chief and now a researcher focusing on the intersection of the Internet, human rights, and foreign policy warns that the Stop Online Piracy Act introduces Chinese style censorship to the United States in a New York Times op-ed:"

China operates the world's most elaborate and opaque system of Internet censorship. But Congress, under pressure to take action against the theft of intellectual property, is considering misguided legislation that would strengthen China's Great Firewall and even bring major features of it to America.

The legislation (the Protect IP Act, which has been introduced in the Senate, and a House version known as the Stop Online Piracy Act) has an impressive array of well-financed backers, including the United States Chamber of Commerce, the Motion Picture Association of America, the American Federation of Musicians, the Directors Guild of America, the International Brotherhood of Teamsters and the Screen Actors Guild. The bills aim not to censor political or religious speech as China does, but to protect American intellectual property. Alarm at the infringement of creative works through the Internet is justifiable. The solutions offered by the legislation, however, threaten to inflict collateral damage on democratic discourse and dissent both at home and around the world."

Stop the Great Firewall of America

Officials Use Ruse At Wolcott High To Clear Halls For Drug Search Say There's An Intruder In Building, But It's Just A Drill

By Mark Frauenfelder at 1:30 pm Monday, Oct 24 via boingboing.net

[Video Link] Police and school administrators Wolcott High School in Connecticut tricked students and teachers into believing a dangerous intruder had come into the school building and ordered a lockdown. It was a ruse for a drug sweep of the lockers. No drugs were found. In the video, the police and Wolcott school superintendent Joseph Macary serve a large pile of steaming horseshit to defend their reckless stunt. As kehfysik says in the comments: "The teaching point here is that they can not trust the people into whose care they are given. The authorities will lie to you and try to use fear to control you. I hope the kids learn this."

At Wolcott High School one morning this week, an urgent announcement crackled over the intercom: a threatening intruder was in the building and students were told to immediately take refuge in classrooms. Doors were locked and police, with dogs, moved in. Students stayed huddled in classrooms where they were told to stay away from the windows.

But what sounded like a frightening situation was just a search for narcotics. Drug-sniffing dogs combed the school while students stayed in locked classrooms, believing that an attacker was roaming the halls.

Officials Use Ruse At Wolcott High To Clear Halls For Drug Search (Via The Agitator)

Here's another version:

Officials Use Ruse At Wolcott High To Clear Halls For Drug Search

Say There's An Intruder In Building, But It's Just A Drill

October 22, 2011|Rick Green articles.courant.com

At Wolcott High School one morning this week, an urgent announcement crackled over the intercom: a threatening intruder was in the building and students were told to immediately take refuge in classrooms. Doors were locked and police, with dogs, moved in. Students stayed huddled in classrooms where they were told to stay away from the windows. But what sounded like a frightening situation was just a search for narcotics. Drug-sniffing dogs combed the school while students stayed in locked classrooms, believing that an attacker was roaming the halls. Drug-free schools are an admirable goal but I wonder when we reached the point where the war on drugs justifies police searches under the ruse of a Virginia Tech-style attack. What on earth could authorities in Wolcott be thinking?

School officials told me it was a routine lockdown drill, the kind that schools are required to do. "We wanted to practice,'' said Superintendent of Schools Joseph McCary. "We said there was a lockdown with an intruder inside. Doors are locked, shades are drawn and the lights are turned off and students are told to move to a corner of the room." "After 10 minutes we say this is a drill and at that point we started a search for drugs,'' McCary said. "We are providing a safe and secure nurturing environment." [my emphasis] No drugs turned up in the search. An email from the high school to parents explained the event, without mentioning the intruder story. It was described as a "lockdown intervention drill" where "two police dogs swept the hallway lockers, locker rooms and the student parking lot.''

Bringing in police dogs to search for drugs in student lockers, while not common, isn't the real outrage here. It's understandable why adults feel they must do something about drug abuse. It's the trickery and tactics that seem more suited to a police sting operation than a public school. "I don't think the school administration and police department have any right to mislead these kids, under any circumstances, to conduct a public safety drill," said Carl Glendening, a parent of two high school students. "The kids are told there is an intruder and there is a lockdown and then they see cops coming in with dogs." "Some kids were freaked out by it. The notion of Columbine was in the back of their minds,'' Glendening said. "We didn't think this through clearly." "They are kids. They are students. They are not there to be used."

Andrew Schneider, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Connecticut, called it a "terrible policy. It will cause more trouble in the long run. Young people will learn not to trust the police." "It's a terrible civics lesson." While state law requires schools to have regular emergency drills, drug-sniffing-dog searches are up to the individual school district. Canton schools recently attracted attention for surprise drug searches using dogs. "The whole issue of search and seizure, you have to have reasonable suspicion, such as if they have had other issues in where the administration feels there's a drug problem in the school,'' said Vincent Mustaro of the Connecticut Association of Boards of Education. "This is one of those policies we consider optional."

School officials say it's not as if they think there's a drug problem in Wolcott. Bringing the dogs in "is precautionary," said school board Chairwoman Patricia Najarian, who added that she didn't see a problem with the fake intruder story. "Maybe there's a few people who get nervous. When we say it's a surprise drill, it's a surprise drill,'' she said. "We have a very active group of citizens against substance abuse." The drug search is "something that is good to do periodically. It says we don't have drugs in the school,'' she said. "Either way it's a win-win. I know people get concerned … there seems to be an overreaction." McCary, the Wolcott superintendent, said they want to teach students to take their safety seriously, so making them think it was real was essential. "If you say it's just a drill, would you move as quickly?" He makes a point, except that we don't set fires to get students to take fire drills more seriously. There's also another issue. If you say something important to teenagers and you want them to trust you, it's better not to lie.

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