Us v Them

I was looking for a picture of a FedEx box this morning, and as is usual in any search, I found myself just a few curious clicks away from another web gem.

It's called GoogleFight, and all it does is measure the number of results in one search against the results of another.

Here's where I ended up...

And other great fights are just a few clicks away, like this one...

...or this one... You can even make your own. Allah v Jesus. Rugby Wallabies v Rugby All Blacks. Macdonalds v Burger King. Coke v Pepsi. Sydney v Melbourne. Reebok v Ferragamo. Chester The Bear v King Kong. Whatever. It's minutes of fun for the whole family.

Seriously... people (like me) need to get out more.

Moon Walk

56%

Just for fun, and to take my mind of the pain of a severely twisted ankle, I spent a few minutes taking the Moon Survival Challenge this morning.

The basic premise is that my little space ship has crashed on the moon, about 200 miles from base camp. I've been able to scratch around in the wreckage and salvage a few tings that might help me survive.

The challenge is to arrange the list of those items in order from most important to least important. The test then compares your score to NASA's score.

As you can see, I only scored 56%... an "F".

I won't spoil it for you. Take the test, then go to comments to read my lame excuse for failing so dismally.

Night? What Night?

A couple of posts ago, I wrote a piece of how misguided Earth Hour is. I haven't changed my mind about that, but several readers availed themselves of the opportunity blogs deliver to point out that for them, the real driver behind Earth Hour is not the fight against Global Warming, but something called "Light Pollution".

LP (as those in the know like to call it) is the excess light thrown up by human activity. It floods the night sky right across the industrialised world, playing havoc with ecosystems and consuming huge resources. It can be as basic and personal as your neighbour's garden light shining into your bedroom, or as complex as the permanent glow over night time America and Europe.

Either way, it wastes enormous resources, and however you look at it, that's a bad thing.

I actually wish that's what Earth Hour was about, because I'd support it 100% if it was. Sadly though, the vast majority of people who will be participating in Earth Hour are blissfully unaware of LP, and will remain so when they switch their lights back on 61 minutes after they switch them off.

It's not their fault. If Earth Hour really is about Light Pollution, then those behind it have done an appalling job at getting the message out there. People will switch out their lights thinking they're somehow making a contribution to reducing carbon emissions. Blame the organisers, or, more probably, the media for dumbing down an important message.

I do thank my contributors, though, for giving Light Pollution a little oxygen in my blog. They have suitably educated me to an environmental issue that's worth the effort. We waste an enormous amount of energy indiscriminately spraying light out into the night, and in the process, irreparably interfere with the natural order of things.

Fetch

Misguided

In ten days time, it will be Earth Hour. Apparently, this Sydney event has gone global this year, so even if you don't live here, you might have heard of it. For one hour, we're supposed to turn off our lights to show we care about greenhouse gasses and global warming.

Sounds like a worthy idea, right? You're probably thinking "that's gotta be good for the environment", right?

For an hour, everyone pulls out their candles, goes ooooh, and aaaahh, has a romantic dinner and feels better now that they've made some real statement and saved the earth from all those evil greenhouse gasses. How much better does it get?

Except for one thing...

A 100w incandescent light globe uses electricity which, if it was created in a coal fired power plant, created about 13g of carbon dioxide. A 2.5cm diameter candle will burn down about 5cm during that hour, and create 15g of carbon dioxide. One candle. Of course, to light a room to the equivalent of a 100w light globe, you'd need 1500 candles, and it would be so hot you's have spontaneous combustion in your lounge room, but that's not the point. Just one candle produces more greenhouse gas than a standard 100w light globe, and if you've ever had to wait it out through a blackout, you'll know that one candle isn't enough.

It gets worse. If your candle's replacing a fluorescent light or one of those energy saving flouro bulbs, you need to compare the candle's 15g with just 3g of the dreaded CO2 made by the electric alternative.

So let me get this right. We're going to get everyone to switch off their electric lights and burn candles for an hour, producing MORE greenhouse gas so we can save the environment from... um... greenhouse gas? Really?

And while I think of it... last year's Earth Hour resulted in a drop in demand of just 1.7%, which actually made ZERO difference to the amount of greenhouse gas produced, because coal fired power stations aren't like the engine in your car where you can just press or release the pedal according to the demand you want to place on the engine... all of which means Earth Hour actually adds a staggering and unnecessary load to the total green house gas emission (if you believe in this sort of thing). In short, Earth Hour's a big con.

Next, they'll be telling us to forego our cars and ride horses for a day, conveniently forgetting to mention that the envirodamage done by the methane the horse will produce will make our internal combustion engines look like environmental saviours.

Don't believe a word of the global warming scam. Just start asking where the money trail leads.

Things I Hate

It seems there's a glut of "lists" kicking around at the moment...

Things I Want To Do Before I Die
Things I Like About Myself
Things I Would Change If I Could
People I'd Like To Meet
You know... there's a long list of them.

I thought I'd start a list of things that piss me off. Not BIG things... just little things that, mostly, piss me off for a nonosecond before my life moves on. They're the sort of things you can really take some comfort from being pissed off about because a)you can't fix them, and b)it doesn't matter that you can't fix them even if you wanted to.

The first thing on the list is that really stupid set up before the punch line on 99% of jokes that arrive in my inbox. Come on... you know... they go something like this;

A blonde walks out to her mail box blah blah blah and
(You're gonna love this)
blah blah punchline.

Fuck off. I don't need whoever wrote the joke to tell me whether I'll like it or not. Make the bloody presumption. If it's a funny joke I'll laugh. It not, I wont. The author telling me I'm "gonna love it" isn't going to make the slightest difference to whether I do or not. In fact, I find it more than a little patronising.

I hate sports journalists referring to sports teams in the plural too. "Arsenal are playing Man U this weekend." No you Philistine. Arsenal IS playing Man U this weekend. Arsenal is one team. Singular. Saying it are playing would be like saying Chester are pissed off at illiterate journalists. For the purists, it's called a "collective singular", which simply means it's a singular term for a group of things. "Company" is a collective singular, and that includes a company name, so Nike IS just doing it. "Team", "church", and "country", are also collective singulars, and they too include organisational names. America are not looking for Bin Laden. America IS looking for Bin Laden. Would you say "The church are having a fete this weekend"? (Please... it's rhetorical question... if you felt a need to answer "yes", then perhaps you aren't ready for this blog.)

Next on my list would be those stupid web ads that go on and on and on for pages telling you how great a product is, such that you have to scroll ALL THE WAY to the bottom before you find the "order now" link, and you still don't know the price. Am I an idiot? Do they really think that just by clicking "order now" I'll buy it irrespective of the cost? Do they think the act of clicking "order now" signals some emotional commitment to purchase such that concepts like "value" and "trust" are no longer relevant?

I had one of these yesterday... it was a link in one of the health emails I get, a mostly useful daily that, this time, linked to a blathering web page about some "secret" forex trading system. Apparently, "only those in the know" have this secret and if I was very fast, the advertiser would share that secret with li'l ole me. It talked about "bank's secret codes" and "the secret only the true insiders know"... all without telling me the price. Ok. I'll bite. I clicked on "Order Now", and the price was $1,770 plus $9.95 postage and handling. Pffft!

Which leads me to the next thing... $9.95 postage and handling on a seventeen hundred dollar item. Fuck off. For $1,700, the postage had better be free. In fact, the bloody CDs it was trying to flog had better be hand delivered by semi naked virgins.

Then there's food labels. Don't get me started on the content... that's for another blog. I'm talking about the size. 4pt. Do you know how small 4pt actually is? It's so small that most people over 40 can't read it. What lame idiot bureaucrat set that standard? If the information the government wants on the label is so important, then at least make it big enought o read.

Trucks piss me off too, but only when they're going backwards. What is it with that "beep beep beep" sound? All right, I know it's a safety thing. I know it's only there because some moron probably walked behind a truck that was reversing, which meant some demented bureaucrat came up with the beep beep solution so he could tick a box the next time he did a site inspection.

But here's the problem... we have a construction site near my office. There's so much beep beep beeping coming from all directions that it would be impossible for anyone to know if they're about to be run over or not, which, of course, means no-one pays attention any more, thus rendering the beep beep beep totally useless. One piece of equipment has a beep beep beep so load I'm sure they can hear it in Auckland, which makes me wonder what they'll do for "safety" to replace the sound when everone within a city block of it goes deaf.

Get rid of those beepers, I say, and let natural selection take its course.

More Special Than Any Of Us Imagined

These days, the mail that gets delivered into the letterbox by the front gate usually isn't anywhere near as interesting as the stuff flooding into my cyber inbox. Most often, it's bills, department store catalogs, menus from local restaurants that deliver, and the occasional reminder from the Office of State Revenue about some forgotten parking fine.

Friday's mail was a little different. It contained a gem in the form of what was supposed to look like a typed letter... old fashioned enough to somehow give it credibility in an increasingly cynical world. It started with a kind of preamble, "typed" above the addressee details, and the worth of the experience to come ought to become evident once you read this opening paragraph...

"Chester Bear, please forgive us, but we have just taken a closer look at your profile. It turns out you're more special than any of us imagined! Chester Bear, did you know that you posess some very rare hidden traits? In fact, there is a famous person (someone you would instantly recognise, he's on TV every night) who posesses these same special, incredibly rare traits. ...It turns out that people who posess these same rare and often hidden traits that you do are some of the most famous and successful people on this planet! Chester, you are indeed blessed! I know those around you don't know this yet, but they will! Deep down, you sense it, too. Right? I'm so excited for you!"

It gets better (or worse, depending on your perspective, and how much you value purity in the English language). I'll let you decide which it is...

Dear Chester Bear,
This is a personal letter just to you. Notice; this is not a mass mailing; this letter came to you by first-class mail, not by third-class bulk mail. This is not a solicitation for money. In fact, you will get something of immense value from us absolutely free with no strings attached. So, read every word very carefully because you will never get another letter from us again.Chester Bear, please keep what I tell you secret, because this information is confidential. These words are meant for you only.

There has existed for many years an exclusive association, a secret society, of the world's most famous and powerful people. These include renowned actors and musicians, leading scientists and intellectuals, self-made entrepreneurs and artists, even some of the rare genuine astrologers and psychics.

The bloody thing blathers on like that for EIGHT pages of diamond studded content, each paragraph measured and targeted... so that by the end, you really want to believe you are special, and that

• you will lose 30lbs overnight
• you will have the perfect relationship with a partner who adores you
• you will be able to see into the future so that you'll always win at gambling and you will know where the stock market will be tomorrow
• you will be rich
• you will be popular
• you will be sexy and desirable

There's even this...

Chester Bear, you'd be amazed to know just who these particular world-renown members were who chose you! But, alas, it's a secret society and although everything I say here is true, their identities must remain anonymous.

Those who chose you, though, do realize your special qualities. YOU'VE GOT IT! You just have not fully realized your special qualities yet.

We know people around you may not see it, but we know that you, Chester Bear, have experienced moments in which you feel spiritually gifted. In those euphoric moments, you know you are special, you absolutely know it, and you feel you are here to do great things with your life. Right? Well, we know it, too, Chester Bear. And yes, you are meant to do great things, exactly as we are going to show you.

How do we know? Be honest: have you ever felt like God or some higher power may be communicating with you, giving you a sign? If you answered yes, and we know you did, then you are indeed that special person we are looking for. And this is your calling. It's as simple as that.

It finishes with this absolutely priceless sign off...

Chester Bear, a Grand Council Member in Greece asked me to give you a personal message. He wrote his message to you in Greek, which I have posted below along with an English translation.

English Translation
"Chester Bear, when I saw the history of your name I instantly knew we had to contact you! There truly is buried treasure lying within you. I can sense this first atom of success and immortality in every new member. Yours is one of the best! With your special, hidden talents, well, let's just say spectacular things will soon open up for you. Few people posses the potentials you do. I can barely stand the anticipation!"

I have no idea what the Greek says, but I'm reasonably sure the translation isn't entirely accurate because the Greek clearly mentions the NT (short for Nouveau Tech) Society, which is purported to be the organisation sending this mountain of sheep poo.

It's kind of sad, really. Even a little depressing. Let's leave aside the fact that it was addressed to a 14" tall stuffed bear for a moment... whoever wrote this deliberately and specifically targets the weak and vulnerable... people who feel their lives do not match some as yet undisplayed potential.

And lets face it... who doesn't think, at some point in their time on this earth, that something in their life, relationship or finances couldn't use some mystical intervention. You can just imagine an overweight, lonely 30 something, working a menaingless 9-5 job, sitting in front of Oprah waiting for a partner who doesn't care any more to come home from the local pub, and "believing" she (yes, she) really is special, if only she had a personality, was thinner, had a better job, and was... well... someone different to whoever she is right now.

I googled the thing and found the whole thing to be mostly harmless. The "free stuff" is a 56 page booklet with a whole bunch of meaningless advice, with an invitation to buy a self help book so you know what it all means.

Ah well. Do I need to quote PT Barnum?

The Wrong Demographic

I'm going to do something I don't do very often. I'm going to make an admission...

I was wrong.

Not "might have been mistaken", or "possibly in error". No. I was wrong.

Two weeks ago, we opened a little teeth whitening kiosk at a major shopping mall here in Sydney. All of the projections said it would do well. All of the "outside" counsel we sought before we committed said it would do well. And the location I picked within the mall had an average passing traffic of more than 3,000 people an hour.

The sad truth is that it's bombed. I was wrong.

We'd budgeted for 4 treatments a day. On average, we're doing less than 1. Financially, we'll hurt with this one, so when something like this happens, smart businesses take stock and try to figure out what went wrong.

And all we can figure out is that the location within the mall is wrong. Actually, we didn't figure that out... some of the other kiosk owners figured it out for us, because four or five of them have come up to take a look and they've all said "great concept, but what are you doing HERE? This is the LAST place in the mall anyone wants to be. Being outside Big W is the kiss of death in ANY mall."

Last place? Kiss of Death?

I decided I'd try to figure out how could I have got it that wrong? That meant I spent much of yesterday playing passive observer... not at the kiosk, but watching it from afar. It wasn't too hard a task. People watching has always been one of my favourite pass times, and I wanted to take a closer look at those 3000 people to see if observation might offer a clue.

Was it that they were on a mission, and didn't want to be diverted?
Was it that they're all maxed out on their credit cards and were heading into Big W for a bargain to save a little on their household budget?
Or was it that they just couldn't care less about whether their smile was white or chocolate brown?

The truth might be a combination of all three, but after an hour of watching, I came to the conclusion the main reason was the last. I don't care who I offend here... overwhelmingly, the people heading into that store are peasants with no sense of style, appearance, or even manners. Worse still, at least for the future of humanity, is that they seem to be prolific breeders, thus compounding the problem for generations to come by handing down dubious values and a lack of sophistication that threatens who we are as a nation. I'm not exagerating. These people vote!

I carefully observed their teeth, which is not to suggest that the colour of one's teeth can reflect your station in life, but there certainly seemed to be a pattern here, with the average tooth colour more resembling a strong flat black than pearly white. Not that they'd have noticed, because judging by the way most of them were dressed, there's a clear shortage of mirrors in their lives anyway.

Call me a snob. I don't care. It's probably true, because I have little time for the great unwashed, for people who have no understanding of who they are, where they're going, how they're going to get there, or how they need to treat the people around them along the way.

I watched four different people walk up to the shelves on which we have some of our product, and casually slip a tin of tea or bottle of fish oil into their bags. One woman even stashed her ill gotten bounty under baby's pillow. When I challenged her, she looked me square in the eyes and, without so much as a blink or increase in heart rate, she told me she'd bought it at another store. When I told her it wasn't available at any other store, she told me to f*%! off, and then she walked away. Charming. I the USA, they call them trailer trash. Here, I don't think we've got a pejorative. "Housing Commission" would be about as close as we get.

I then spent the next hour doing the same at the other end of the mall, watching the spot management has suggested as an alternative. All I'll say is "different". The people were different. They had a different quality about them. They seemed to be going about their day with more purpose, yet they were far more relaxed. I watched them interact with a kiosk offering chiropractic referral. I watched them being polite. I heard them say "no thank you". There wasn't a scowl among them.

We'll move to that spot this week. Will it make a difference? Maybe, or maybe not, but it couldn't be worse than where we are right now.

Another Ew!

Thanks to Dr Mercola's website for this one.