“Electricity is really just organized lightening.”
– George Carlin
Small Dog is positively charged.
We have card swipes on the doors to the secure areas of the department. Today while sliding my card through the reader, I got a jolt of power through my arm. Much like the time I unscrewed the bulb from a night light when I was seven (old enough to know better) and stuck my finger in the gap to see what it felt like. Don’t recommend it.
Later in the room where I take peoples’ fingerprints, the light wasn’t turning on. I flipped it a couple of times with no result until suddenly the lights buzzed into life…while the switch was in the “Off” position.
I’ve also been on the receiving end of two static shocks today.
“Hear now a sorry tale of mortal man…”
– Aeschylus
The story of Prometheus is well known, but to recap… He was a titan who apparently sided with the Olympians when they wandered into Greece, looked around, and said, “We’ll take it.” Even though Zeus declares himself supreme-overlord-of-all-and-if-you-challenge-me-you-will-get-struck-by-bloody-lightning-I-am-not-kidding!, Prometheus demonstrates over and over again that he is far more clever than the majority of the pantheon. While Zeus is sneaking around behind his wife’s back, preening in a mirror, and trying (unsuccessfully) to keep his growing horde of illegitimate children quiet, Prometheus decides that he feels like creating humans and developing agriculture, writing, and the other civilizing arts.
"That'll learn you, thinking you're smarter than me..." "Wow. You're a huge jerk. Ow ow OW!"
But when he decided to steal fire (usually symbolizing technology in general) for mankind and smuggled it off Mount Olympus, Zeus finally lost it. Fed up with his tricks, overwhelming cleverness, and making him (Zeus) look bad, he chained Prometheus to a mountain and sent an eagle to eat his liver everyday, which miraculously regrew each night so he could be tortured in the same way daily, ad infinitum. One of the pesky downsides to being immortal.
The modern retelling of this myth is currently taking place on our front counter.
In an effort to help transition patrons to the new parking system, an unnamed officer bought two tiny laptops that our employees could use to walk individuals through the online process of registering their cars. Trouble was that for months the system was hovering in a state of semi-productivity limbo, even on a good day the internet connection on the laptops is shoddy at best, and the computers are almost never used. Not money well spent, in my opinion.
Not aesthetically pleasing, I feel.
However, one of the more obvious problems with this idea has been the method devised for keeping them in place (as it would be embarrassing for computers to get stolen from a police department); to wit, a tangled mass of wires, power strips, and chains wrapped around one another, the computers themselves, and drawer handles. Looking both ghetto and ridiculous.
Moral of the story: trying to bring enlightenment and ease to the populace will probably make you an object of aggravation, fit only to be tied up and left to rot.
“‘Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext’rous; some by features Are brought up, others by a warlike leader; Some by a place–as tend their years or natures; The most by ready cash–but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.”
– Lord Byron, Don Juan canto V, st. 27
Holidays are fun, regardless of nationality. Take today: Cindo de Mayo. Some people celebrate with chips and salsa, some with a fiesta, some with mariachi bands. And some with bribery.
A certain student is banned from driving on campus. This is due in large part to him accumulating up to four tickets in one day, parking in service/handicapped stalls, trying to fight our student officers, and claiming that he never received information that three people all told him (at the same time, in the same room together). He was informed he had the ability to appeal the ban but would not be able to bring his car onto campus until a final decision had been made. He said he understood and left.
Pictured: the filthy tool of corruption!
Today he came into our office, and asked for Red.
“You know about Cinco de Mayo, right?” he asked. “It’s today. So I brought you this.”
He held out a small packaged piece of tres leches cake with a meaningful expression.
“K, bye” he said quickly and hurried out.
Five minutes later we found his car in a non-student parking lot.
The real mystery here is, if he were trying to circumvent parking rules, why did he draw attention to himself by 1) attempted bribery and, 2) (and this is more perplexing) leaving his emergency lights flashing merrily away for over an hour?
How do you celebrate Cinco de Mayo? Or any holiday for that matter?
“The worst part about this sort of guy is that they marry girls exactly like themselves.”
“Yeah. Then, they breed. And there’s more of them.”
– Hennessy and C.
I’m thinking of starting a semi-regular piece: things she and I see around campus. I think I’ll call it, Double Takes With Hennessy and C.
Here’s our first offering, found on the doors of Humanities building (photo by H., by the way):
People who refer to themselves as "THE" anything should be shunned by polite society, and possibly forbidden to breed.
“Fellows who know all about that sort of thing – dectives and so on – will tell you that the most difficult thing in the world is to get rid of the body…”
– P.G. Wodehouse
So, on Friday we had a majorly important visitor. One of international consequence, influence, and meddling. His security detail/entourage/People were on campus days in advance and had to be herded around the whole university. I had to put together information packets for them detailing our VIP’s time down to minute increments. It was a well-knit, flawless operation.
Until the grounds crew, digging around the Law School, unearthed a large plastic bag of large bones: partial leg bones, ribs, and coccyx.
Cue flashes of Ted Bundy, Jack the Ripper, Dexter, and Hannibal Lecter. As you can imagine, it was a thrilling, suspenseful hour or so until we got an Anthropologist to inspect them (Sidenote: I really think all police departments should be located on university campuses. Think of the treasure trove of experts at your fingertips!).
They turned out to belong to a deer. What a let down.
Nevertheless, the weekend was a welcome event after the excitement. Monday has come way too early.
“Work is the curse of the drinking classes.”
– Oscar Wilde.
It's definitely a rage stroke.
I haven’t complained about work in a while, and there is a very simple reason for that. I had a rage stroke. Seriously. I got so angry that the rage literally had nowhere to go so it just retreated to a corner of my brain and fizzled. Between what I consider to be bad management with our pet project (which is still giving us a ridiculous amount of grief), and ego running our office in terms of funding, personnel relations, and department communication and day-to-day running, I was just FED UP.
Then, suddenly and blissfully, I just didn’t care anymore. Of course I’m not so foolish as to think the apathy is permanent. Just a few days later our copy machine threw up its metaphoric hands and said, “To hell with it,” Hennessy and I got so stressed that she had a minor meltdown and I spent a cathartic ten minutes kicking a brick wall before I went home, and self-entitled people began pouring out the woodwork (think they’ve been hibernating?).
To top it off, Dilbert™ for the past couple of days has been frighteningly like our department. Either Scott Adams secretly works here, or my worst fears have been confirmed and every job in the world is exactly the same.
And still they don't get it...I promise this isn't an exaggeration. Really. No. REALLY.
“The trouble with troubleshooting is that trouble shoots back.”
– Unknown
So, while documenting records in our database, I must have tapped some keys in just the right order to summon the devil. Or something. Because this popped up in that scary font only techie types use:
This version requires a [something or other thing that I don’t understand] directory to store your alias files. Shall I create it for you? Y/N
At a loss, I type “N” and assumed it would all go away. The response…
Very well. I won’t create it.
But you may run into difficulties later.
Die, evil computer program, die! Help, my computer has become self aware!
“I came up with direct marketing. Well, someone else already had, but I came up with it independently.”
– Mad Men (Pete Campbell)
“I love your necklace!” said a patron to me today. “Did you get the idea from Ugly Betty?”
“Er, no,” I answered, having never watched the show. “Anne Boleyn.”
“Oh. Who’s that?”
Sigh. Stupid history degree. Nobody has a clue what I’m talking about half the time.
“Demosthenes overcame and rendered more distinct his inarticulate and stammering pronunciation by speaking with pebbles in his mouth.”
– Plutarch
Our supplier’s secretary would have done well to copy the ancient orator. Quoth her voicemail message:
Pictured: a testicle handcuff key
“Hey this is [name] with [supplier], just calling to let you know your testicle handcuff keys are ready to ship, please let me know when you’d like me to proceed.”
Susie called Wise, Hennessy, and I all in to consult and figure out what on earth she was talking about (amidst some mock horror, “Susie! What did you order?”) but we finally managed to deduce she meant tactical handcuffs. Which isn’t nearly as intriguing.
“Hello, I have a problem. I’m a landlady for a condo rented by students and some of them are reporting that one of them has a…hoooo-cah…? I think that has something to do with drugs and I don’t know what to do. I called the university’s housing department and they refered me to the city police, but they said they couldn’t help me.” “Did they tell you why, ma’am?”
“Well, my tenants said he was smoking tobacco and the police said that that’s all right!” “Er, yes, ma’am. If they are violating your landlord/tenant agreement though, as long as you uphold your end of it in the time you give him to remove himself from your property, you will be able to evict him.”
“But the university forbids drugs!” “Yes, ma’am, but tobacco is legal as long as you are of age. The university does have certain behavioral requirements of all its’ attendees but that is not the same thing as someone breaking a state or federal law. The university may take action against him, you may take action against him as his landlord, but though he’s forming a bad and unhealthy habit, he isn’t doing anything criminal.” “But he has a…hooo-cah! And I don’t even know what that is!” “It’s a sort Middle Eastern pipe that uses water-“
“I’m sure he’s using it for heroin or something!” “I doubt that, ma’am.”
“But what is it?”
WHO are you?
This is the only cultural reference I could come up with that she recognized:
Note: I never knew I knew so much about hookahs! As a non smoker/drinker or druggie of any kind, the only hookah’s I’ve ever come across were on a family trip to Turkey, decor in some Middle Eastern restaraunts…and children’s films.
Small Dog Syndrome 