Friday, July 10, 2009
Super Fun Happy Government!
I'm a big fan of the 80's. Back then, the number one threat to the human race was communism and the most prolific form of entertainment on television was stand-up comedy. I can remember one man making a humorous observation that there was a clear inverse relationship between the name of of a country and the relative prosperity of its people. The Iron Curtain has all but collapsed by now but his joke still stands: between the Republic of Korea and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, which one do you think has widespread poverty and an oppressive totalitarian government?
I guess there's just something in politics that encourages the people at the top to assign pleasant-sounding names to completely unpleasant things, or even unexciting things. For example, Japan's main political party for the last fifty years isn't called the Conservative Party, they're the Liberal Democratic Party. But that's nothing compared to the folks behind this poster I spotted on the way to the station:
"The Happiness Realization Party?" Even without hearing what they want to do, you're already rolling your eyes, aren't you? Just wait, it gets better. The poster offers us two tiny glimpses into their crazy, crazy world. On the right, it says "Amend Article 9. We will protect Japan from North Korean missiles." Article 9 is the infamous "pacifist clause" of the Japanese constitution that renounces their ability to go to war. That hasn't stopped them from building a substantial Self-Defense Force but that has prevented them from ever attacking another nation. The general public and most sane leaders embrace Article 9, but there have been a few vocal politicians who insist the clause is somehow tying Japan's hands in international relations. Either way, you don't normally see "let's get back into the war business" on political posters.
On the left, it says "Abolish the consumption and inheritance taxes. We will double your assets." Consumption tax in Japan is set at a relatively benign 5%, nearly half of what New Yorkers pay. I don't know the ins and outs of Japanese inheritance tax, but I'm betting it doesn't add up to much unless you're taking in an incredible sum from dearly departed Grandpa. So both of these are aimed at letting the rich stay rich, even though this poster was placed in a neighborhood of modest apartment buildings. Also, I cannot resist pointing out that the very first example sentence for 幸福 ("happiness") in my Japanese-English dictionary is "money can't buy happiness." Guess that wasn't in their edition when they drafted this ad?
I guess I don't blame them for going with "The Happiness Realization Party" over something a bit more accurate, say, "The Trigger-Happy Misers," but couldn't they have at least tried to play it cool for the poster? For all the fuss they made about gay marriage, you don't see many U.S. right-wingers proclaim in their literature "We hate fags." They class it up a bit, use obscuring language and simply imply that they endorse discriminating against certain types of people. Japan could learn a lot from them. Then again, I don't see why the GOP doesn't go ahead and improve their image by totally stealing this party's name. Americans love Happiness!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I guess there's just something in politics that encourages the people at the top to assign pleasant-sounding names to completely unpleasant things, or even unexciting things. For example, Japan's main political party for the last fifty years isn't called the Conservative Party, they're the Liberal Democratic Party. But that's nothing compared to the folks behind this poster I spotted on the way to the station:
"The Happiness Realization Party?" Even without hearing what they want to do, you're already rolling your eyes, aren't you? Just wait, it gets better. The poster offers us two tiny glimpses into their crazy, crazy world. On the right, it says "Amend Article 9. We will protect Japan from North Korean missiles." Article 9 is the infamous "pacifist clause" of the Japanese constitution that renounces their ability to go to war. That hasn't stopped them from building a substantial Self-Defense Force but that has prevented them from ever attacking another nation. The general public and most sane leaders embrace Article 9, but there have been a few vocal politicians who insist the clause is somehow tying Japan's hands in international relations. Either way, you don't normally see "let's get back into the war business" on political posters.
On the left, it says "Abolish the consumption and inheritance taxes. We will double your assets." Consumption tax in Japan is set at a relatively benign 5%, nearly half of what New Yorkers pay. I don't know the ins and outs of Japanese inheritance tax, but I'm betting it doesn't add up to much unless you're taking in an incredible sum from dearly departed Grandpa. So both of these are aimed at letting the rich stay rich, even though this poster was placed in a neighborhood of modest apartment buildings. Also, I cannot resist pointing out that the very first example sentence for 幸福 ("happiness") in my Japanese-English dictionary is "money can't buy happiness." Guess that wasn't in their edition when they drafted this ad?
I guess I don't blame them for going with "The Happiness Realization Party" over something a bit more accurate, say, "The Trigger-Happy Misers," but couldn't they have at least tried to play it cool for the poster? For all the fuss they made about gay marriage, you don't see many U.S. right-wingers proclaim in their literature "We hate fags." They class it up a bit, use obscuring language and simply imply that they endorse discriminating against certain types of people. Japan could learn a lot from them. Then again, I don't see why the GOP doesn't go ahead and improve their image by totally stealing this party's name. Americans love Happiness!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Rubber Soul (-crushing Boredom)
They call it "the rubber room." There's more than one, of course, but just like "the post office" or "the bank," the rubber room looms over people through office gossip and spook stories. However, the rubber room is real. People go there everyday, and many of them will spend years in there. Waiting.
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Alright, this is not nearly as spooky as it sounds. I was listening to the latest This American Life podcast this morning when I learned about the rubber room. It is the nickname for several "reassignment centers" used by the New York City Board of Education. Teachers who are facing disciplinary action are "reassigned" to these waiting rooms where they...wait. The kicker is that there's no way to know when the waiting ends, and some people don't even know why they were sent to the rubber room in the first place.
There is a twist, good for those sitting around all day and bad for everyone else: teachers in the rubber room continue to earn their full salary. Obviously the press reports have latched onto this story as another example of government waste, while those in the rubber room spin it as bureaucratic nonsense. They know they're getting paid to do nothing and they just want to go back to their schools - any school, frankly, since there have been people who have sat in the rubber room for years. Even those who abandon their positions and find work elsewhere are sore about it, because they felt they had no choice but to give up.
This initially sounds like a great deal for those being reassigned. Who wouldn't want a paycheck just for playing cards or sleeping in an office, devoid of actual responsibility? But consider this: with a finite number of rooms and a rapidly increasing number of reassignees, these rooms are quite crowded. Seats and tables are hard to come by, and the radio show featured stories of fights breaking out. They compared it to prison life in that grown adults were being "confined" and had nothing else to do but to viciously defend what little power they had left. When all you have is your territory, that can mean fighting over who gets to sit by the window.
Of course, for me the rubber room story was completely unshocking as I am familiar with the mindset behind it. During my time as a postal worker, there were a number of occasions where I was required to come to work and wait for mail to arrive or wait after my shift was over for the carriers to return so I could lock the door. It didn't matter if it was after 6 or on a Sunday, I simply had to wait and collect the overtime. This bored me to no end but I learned to deal with it. At least there was no one watching me. I could listen to whatever music I wanted or even take a nap.
It wasn't the waiting for mail that bothered me as much as waiting for other employees, because there were certain people who deliberately took their time in the interest of earning more money. Just like New York City teachers, there are strict union rules about removing a postal employee from their position. No matter how slowly you do your job, they can't fault you for it. In fact, no matter how poorly you did your job (i.e. coming to work drunk), they can't complain so long as you actually deliver the mail. In the case of the Board of Ed., I'm sure someone realizes that children cannot be so cavalierly exposed to gross incompetence, so they decide to simply relocate the people they want to fire. The principle in both organizations is the same: we can't fire this guy, so let's do the next best thing. The Post Office doesn't have a rubber room so they just look the other way.
Alas, my rubber room experience is hardly a distant memory. In my current position I rotate between five different elementary schools. My schedule is pretty much set, so if there are no classes for me to teach, I am still expected to come to work and sit in the office. That includes breaks between semesters where no one has classes which seems to confuse everyone involved. When I walk into a school in mid-August, someone invariably asks "What are you doing here?" and all I can say is "It's Tuesday. I come on Tuesdays."
So I have some sympathy for the rubber room people, but not much. The system is obviously broken, yes. I know how dull it can be to have a job with no responsibilities other than "come to the office." But I'm not duking it out with strangers over desk space, and more often than not I am one of the few people in the office. Hell, I've even managed to work in some gaming during particularly quiet times when I had a room to myself and my laptop on hand.
Ultimately, I say embrace any job that offers you a salary without demanding much, at least in the short term. With so many people in jobs they hate that pay very little or those struggling to find such a job just to make ends meet, it's pretty petty to sit there and complain about being bored at work. Just count your blessings and enjoy the free money. If you really can't stand it, work on your resume and leave. Pursue your dream job; that's what I did. I left my comfortable, money-for-nothing job and moved to Japan...where I found myself in a new money-for-nothing job. At least now I get weekends off.
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Labels: JET, politics, postal service, This American Life, Write or Die
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
CHANGE: no I can't
I know you college types are just starting to get back to class but at the elementary school level we are up and running at full speed by now. While you knowledge-hungry elitists are just getting back from vacations, maybe shopping for textbooks or reviewing your latest syllabi (syllabuses?), these kids have long since returned to school and their all-too-brief winter break is already a distant memory. Of course, I say that as I sit in an empty classroom in the middle of a day when I have no classes to teach, so some teachers are busier than others. As English is surely the black sheep of subjects here in Japan, I will have a few more days of adjustment before anyone notices that I am, in fact, here to teach children as opposed to sit in the office and type quietly on my laptop.
I'm exaggerating, of course. Some schools had me start working with students on the very first day of classes back on January 9th. Other schools, such as where I am currently sitting, prefer to let the individual teachers sign up for English classes, thereby guaranteeing periods of extreme idleness at the start and end of the semester while everyone tries to squeeze their lessons with me into the middle. So while I had no classes last Tuesday or today, I have five next Tuesday and again the Tuesday after that. It's frustrating, but then I remind myself that they don't do it out of spite, they do it because they simply don't care. I'll take negligence over hate any day.
It is in the midst of this odd period that I filed my request for an extension of my contract. The hiring and placement process for the JET Programme is so incredibly long that my Board of Ed needs to know almost six months beforehand whether or not I intend to renew my contract or not. The renewal forms are distributed three months prior to that in case people are hoping for transfers which take even longer. Hence the first steps in renewing or ending a JET Programme-brokered contract take place in October, only two months after newbies arrive and only one month after classes start.
As stressed and anxious as I was in my first year, I knew this job and life in Japan was what I wanted so I didn't hesitate in re-signing. This year I actually had time to reflect on how my job has changed (nearly entirely for the better) and think about what I want to achieve next year. Factor in a forthcoming baby and the craptastic job market both here and in the States (two big reasons not to start passing out resumes this summer) and I felt pretty comfortable submitting my request yesterday.
If I have one major reservation it is not knowing what might change in April when the new school year starts. Last year it brought about some serious shifts of personnel, including new principals at every single school that I visit. Later that month it was decided that I would stop going to the tiny mountain school in favor of increased classes at other, slightly larger schools. Again, looking back I would say that almost everything that changed was for the better, but I cannot reasonably assume that I will be as fortunate this April.
There's also the unknown element of a new ALT coming to Hana Town. The JET who currently works in the middle schools around here (and that one tiny mountain school) is at the end of his tenure. While they could still potentially offer him some kind of new contract, odds are he will move on and they will request a new ALT. This will obviously have implications for my job, but how drastic they are I couldn't possibly say. Will my current rotation of schools remain the same? Will I be asked to help out at the middle school level, or will he be asked to cover more elementary school lessons? Will he flake out and quit after six weeks, tarnishing my reputation in the process?
Even bigger, will there be a new ALT coming at all? As the number of students in Hana Town continues to dwindle, there might be drastic changes on the horizon. I just learned today that this school, the largest one I teach at, will have half the usual number of incoming first graders in April. Other schools are similarly expecting smaller student bodies: one school is graduating eighteen sixth graders but is getting only eight new students. Another is graduating ten and is unlikely to welcome more than two or three new children, maybe less. Someone might just decide to spread my schedule thin across more schools and forgo the expense of hiring, importing, and then paying the monthly salary of a whole new foreigner.
But that's all speculative and unfounded guesswork. The bottom line is that I came here after years of work and they seem to like me, so I'm staying. Other potential employment issues may come up in 2009, but I hope to remain in Hana Town through at least July of next year with addition renewals possible. At the very least, I can take great comfort in knowing that by the time I wake up tomorrow, this asshole will be out of a job. Here's hoping his replacement doesn't flake out and quit after six weeks either.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
I'm exaggerating, of course. Some schools had me start working with students on the very first day of classes back on January 9th. Other schools, such as where I am currently sitting, prefer to let the individual teachers sign up for English classes, thereby guaranteeing periods of extreme idleness at the start and end of the semester while everyone tries to squeeze their lessons with me into the middle. So while I had no classes last Tuesday or today, I have five next Tuesday and again the Tuesday after that. It's frustrating, but then I remind myself that they don't do it out of spite, they do it because they simply don't care. I'll take negligence over hate any day.
It is in the midst of this odd period that I filed my request for an extension of my contract. The hiring and placement process for the JET Programme is so incredibly long that my Board of Ed needs to know almost six months beforehand whether or not I intend to renew my contract or not. The renewal forms are distributed three months prior to that in case people are hoping for transfers which take even longer. Hence the first steps in renewing or ending a JET Programme-brokered contract take place in October, only two months after newbies arrive and only one month after classes start.
As stressed and anxious as I was in my first year, I knew this job and life in Japan was what I wanted so I didn't hesitate in re-signing. This year I actually had time to reflect on how my job has changed (nearly entirely for the better) and think about what I want to achieve next year. Factor in a forthcoming baby and the craptastic job market both here and in the States (two big reasons not to start passing out resumes this summer) and I felt pretty comfortable submitting my request yesterday.
If I have one major reservation it is not knowing what might change in April when the new school year starts. Last year it brought about some serious shifts of personnel, including new principals at every single school that I visit. Later that month it was decided that I would stop going to the tiny mountain school in favor of increased classes at other, slightly larger schools. Again, looking back I would say that almost everything that changed was for the better, but I cannot reasonably assume that I will be as fortunate this April.
There's also the unknown element of a new ALT coming to Hana Town. The JET who currently works in the middle schools around here (and that one tiny mountain school) is at the end of his tenure. While they could still potentially offer him some kind of new contract, odds are he will move on and they will request a new ALT. This will obviously have implications for my job, but how drastic they are I couldn't possibly say. Will my current rotation of schools remain the same? Will I be asked to help out at the middle school level, or will he be asked to cover more elementary school lessons? Will he flake out and quit after six weeks, tarnishing my reputation in the process?
Even bigger, will there be a new ALT coming at all? As the number of students in Hana Town continues to dwindle, there might be drastic changes on the horizon. I just learned today that this school, the largest one I teach at, will have half the usual number of incoming first graders in April. Other schools are similarly expecting smaller student bodies: one school is graduating eighteen sixth graders but is getting only eight new students. Another is graduating ten and is unlikely to welcome more than two or three new children, maybe less. Someone might just decide to spread my schedule thin across more schools and forgo the expense of hiring, importing, and then paying the monthly salary of a whole new foreigner.
But that's all speculative and unfounded guesswork. The bottom line is that I came here after years of work and they seem to like me, so I'm staying. Other potential employment issues may come up in 2009, but I hope to remain in Hana Town through at least July of next year with addition renewals possible. At the very least, I can take great comfort in knowing that by the time I wake up tomorrow, this asshole will be out of a job. Here's hoping his replacement doesn't flake out and quit after six weeks either.
Labels: frustration, Japan, JET, job hunting, politics, predicting the future, teaching
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Thank God for Small Favors
The Supreme Court declared the Child Online Protection Act unconstitutional, ensuring the rest of us continued access to free pornography, so says the NY Times. Here's an idea for parents who want to protect their children from the Internet: SUPERVISE THEM. Stop trying to ruin everything for everyone.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Labels: Internet issues, politics
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Movies and Moore
Moore...get it? As in Michael Moore, the creator of the new film Fahrenheit 9/11. I saw it last night in Bethel, CT along with a few friends. I really enjoyed the film, which I guess tells you how I feel about the president. Still, I didn't enjoy it as much as Moore's last film, Bowling for Columbine. Part of what I didn't like about F9/11 was the tone of the movie. One moment in particular stands out. The film shows President Bush in a Florida elementary school on the morning of September 11th. As you may have heard, or seen, he remained in the classroom for about seven minutes after being informed of the second plane's impact. The footage is pretty chilling, because George has this look of bewilderment on his face. But Moore adds a smarmy narration and jokes about what the President might have been thinking. It just felt unnecessary. Thankfully, he refrains from trying to affect a Texas accent.
What was really exciting about the movie didn't happen on screen. As I said, we were in Bethel, and there were five of us which took up an entire row. During the first few minutes of the film, my friend Joe snickered and said something like "What a fucking hick," referring to GW. This little man in front of us, who slightly resembled Moby, turns around and asks "Could you please watch your language? This is a public forum," or something like that. Now I would have shut the hell up because I am, at heart, a coward. But Joe doesn't sit still for that kind of shit. I mean, we're all sitting there to watch a movie that derides the President, a movie which is rated R for "some violent and disturbing images, and for language." If this guy didn't want to hear a swear word he shouldn't have been in there. Anyway, Joe decided the best response was "Go Fuck Yourself." Two seats over (on the aisle) I cringed, and the guy ran out of the theatre. Inside, I was laughing but at the same time I was a little nervous. Maybe antagonizing that guy wasn't the safest thing to do, but at the same time I knew from my experience working in movie theatres that no one gets in trouble just for talking.
When he came back he was waiting in the aisle for someone to come in. This is the best part: On screen, there was no picture. Moore decided not to show any footage of the 9/11 attacks, just an audio sequence with a black screen. This guy was standing in the aisle and people started yelling at him to sit down! Now I was going totally crazy inside. This whole thing was hilarious but the film happened to be at a highly emotional point. Somehow I kept my composure. An old man came down the aisle and the little guy pointed at all of us. Now I was pissed and I realized Joe was right all along. This asshole was trying to finger all of us! The old man asked us nicely to "avoid swearing" and Joe denied everything with a straight face. No further incidents occurred during the film but Joe and this guy had a few words after the film about freedom of speech. I couldn't hear most of their conversation because of the exiting crowd noise. Let's just say they didn't kiss and make up, although Joe did rub the guy's shaved head. I told you he looked like Moby.
FYI, I also rented Death Race 2000 and Bad Santa this week on DVD. I recommend both, especially Death Race 2000. The disc features lots of trailers for other 70's exploitation cinema and an interview with Roger Corman by Leonard Maltin, a close personal friend of mine. ^_^
つづく...(Click here to read more)
What was really exciting about the movie didn't happen on screen. As I said, we were in Bethel, and there were five of us which took up an entire row. During the first few minutes of the film, my friend Joe snickered and said something like "What a fucking hick," referring to GW. This little man in front of us, who slightly resembled Moby, turns around and asks "Could you please watch your language? This is a public forum," or something like that. Now I would have shut the hell up because I am, at heart, a coward. But Joe doesn't sit still for that kind of shit. I mean, we're all sitting there to watch a movie that derides the President, a movie which is rated R for "some violent and disturbing images, and for language." If this guy didn't want to hear a swear word he shouldn't have been in there. Anyway, Joe decided the best response was "Go Fuck Yourself." Two seats over (on the aisle) I cringed, and the guy ran out of the theatre. Inside, I was laughing but at the same time I was a little nervous. Maybe antagonizing that guy wasn't the safest thing to do, but at the same time I knew from my experience working in movie theatres that no one gets in trouble just for talking.
When he came back he was waiting in the aisle for someone to come in. This is the best part: On screen, there was no picture. Moore decided not to show any footage of the 9/11 attacks, just an audio sequence with a black screen. This guy was standing in the aisle and people started yelling at him to sit down! Now I was going totally crazy inside. This whole thing was hilarious but the film happened to be at a highly emotional point. Somehow I kept my composure. An old man came down the aisle and the little guy pointed at all of us. Now I was pissed and I realized Joe was right all along. This asshole was trying to finger all of us! The old man asked us nicely to "avoid swearing" and Joe denied everything with a straight face. No further incidents occurred during the film but Joe and this guy had a few words after the film about freedom of speech. I couldn't hear most of their conversation because of the exiting crowd noise. Let's just say they didn't kiss and make up, although Joe did rub the guy's shaved head. I told you he looked like Moby.
FYI, I also rented Death Race 2000 and Bad Santa this week on DVD. I recommend both, especially Death Race 2000. The disc features lots of trailers for other 70's exploitation cinema and an interview with Roger Corman by Leonard Maltin, a close personal friend of mine. ^_^
Labels: friends, movies, politics
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
"Reply Hazy, Try Again"
So in the controversial case concerning the phrase "under god" in the Pledge of Allegiance, the Supreme Court has decided...nothing?!? The father doesn't have the right to sue so the Court overturned the lower court's ruling.
So what did we learn today? Not much apparently. The Supreme 8-Ball has spoken!
つづく...(Click here to read more)
So what did we learn today? Not much apparently. The Supreme 8-Ball has spoken!
Labels: politics
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Friday, June 11, 2004
Too Infrequent?
Maybe I'm approaching this whole "blog" thing in the wrong way. I've been using it to respond to impulses or funny things I find on the Internet. It should be more like a diary, shouldn't it? Otherwise, you have a situation where I might not post every day or even every other day. And judging by the counter, I see that you're out there reading this...honestly! I'm as surprised as you are, believe me.
So let's recap today. As you may have heard, President Bush declared today a National Day of Observance for the late Ronald Reagan. I'm still undecided how I feel about his "legacy." Is he is still the hero from my childhood who ended the Cold War or is he better remembered for his faults? Irregardless, you see, because I had no Day of Observance today. I had to go to work and sit there. You see, at my shitty job all the mail arrives in the morning. We sort it and give it to the carriers who then deliver it. The rest of day is spent collecting mail from customers over the window. But there was no delivery or window service today and another guy came in early to sort the mail. Which means my job, from 9AM to 5:30PM, was meaningless. All I could do was try not to fall asleep and make sure the building didn't burn down.
Should I be content? Happy even? Most people have hard jobs or low-paying ones. I'm paid lots of money to do little or, as today, nothing at all. I find it frustrating and dreadfully dull, but maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should be thrilled to be so securely employed in an undemanding position. What do I think? Am I bitching about a good thing or is it natural to seek an intellectual response from work?
つづく...(Click here to read more)
So let's recap today. As you may have heard, President Bush declared today a National Day of Observance for the late Ronald Reagan. I'm still undecided how I feel about his "legacy." Is he is still the hero from my childhood who ended the Cold War or is he better remembered for his faults? Irregardless, you see, because I had no Day of Observance today. I had to go to work and sit there. You see, at my shitty job all the mail arrives in the morning. We sort it and give it to the carriers who then deliver it. The rest of day is spent collecting mail from customers over the window. But there was no delivery or window service today and another guy came in early to sort the mail. Which means my job, from 9AM to 5:30PM, was meaningless. All I could do was try not to fall asleep and make sure the building didn't burn down.
Should I be content? Happy even? Most people have hard jobs or low-paying ones. I'm paid lots of money to do little or, as today, nothing at all. I find it frustrating and dreadfully dull, but maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should be thrilled to be so securely employed in an undemanding position. What do I think? Am I bitching about a good thing or is it natural to seek an intellectual response from work?
Labels: politics, postal service
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Tom Tomorrow Keep Things In Perspective
Here's a wonderful cartoon from Tom Tomorrow: This Modern World: Defining Deviancy Down. I've heard this argument a lot recently contrasting the prisoner abuse scandal and the murder of Nick Berg. The idea that it's OK to torture someone because the other side does it too, well, that's absurd.
つづく...(Click here to read more)
Labels: politics
つづく...(Click here to read more)
