Oct. 21st, 2005

thessalian: (defensive)
Oh, this is just creepy.

In other news, James didn't do a damn thing while I was away. Not. One. Thing. Oh well, at least it's not that bad but seriously, I did kind of want to take a couple of days off next week and now I'm kind of afraid to. Well, I'll see how far I get on the backlog today. I should know by lunchtime if I can go on holiday or not. I'm guessing so, seeing as most of it was piddly stuff anyway (so why couldn't he have just filed a few things? Guess since that's my job now, he doesn't have to. 'Cover' apparently means 'I'll only do it if it's really urgent').

First glimpse of the Metro for two days. The weather has gone intensely screwed, hasn't it? We barely have time to wring the last drop of media interest out of one hurricane before another one comes along and flattens some other part of the world. It makes a nice distraction from, I don't know, weeding out the corruption and incompetence that made the devastation caused by Katrina so much worse than it had to be. And, in fact, every other piece of crap that happens in the media. Oh, people apparently want to see heart-rending tales of people suffering a long way away so that they can put a few quid into a charity somewhere and feel like they're Good People. And don't get me wrong -- they are good people, or at least they're better than the people who don't give at all on some weak-arse premise like "Well, most of the money's not going to the needy people anyway". Because some of it is, and a half a loaf is better than none (though I suppose I can understand not wanting to give money to bureaucrats who couldn't manage money if their lives depended on it). It's a combination of schadenfreude and a ploy to make themselves feel all generous and prosperous.

I want real news. I want to know why the government's still pushing these ID cards when they're expensive, supported by a buggy system and generally useless. I want to know why anti-terrorism laws are being used to keep dissenting but overall peaceful voices out of the Labour party conference and keep pedestrians off cycle paths. I want to know why people are being arrested for wearing T-shirts, be they Cradle of Filth ones (two people on record as having been arrested for wearing these under anti-hate laws) or anti-Blair sentiments. I really want to know why all the money that could be used to promote reduced emissions, better healthcare, better anti-drug campaigning, better education and generally a better standard of living is going to fund that unsanctioned bloodbath in Iraq. I want to know all these things, but no one who really knows will tell me. Why? Because they're ashamed of the answers, probably.

I want the answers anyway. I want, just for once, for these people who run our world to own up to what they're doing. I want them to be held accountable. I want them to either stand up and give the people valid reasons for what they're doing -- ones that are open to debate, thank you -- or I want them to admit that what they're doing is wrong. Even if they still refuse to back down from the idiotic mess they're making of society as a whole, the very least they could do is admit to us why they won't do the right thing. People have a right to answers like this.

Yet they don't think they do, because the people in charge tell them that they don't have the right to those answers. We don't have constitutionally guaranteed freedom of speech (though fat lot of good it's doing the Americans); the only place we have a voice is in the polling booth, and what happens after we get out of it and discover that we have been lied to? Do we rise up righteous and demand to know why the hell we were lied to? Do we use the mouths and brains we were born with to pry the truth out of these eejits so that we can make an informed decision about who runs our country? Do we take down the lying, warmongering, borderline dictatorial regimes and replace them with someone who will, at the very least, not lie, cheat and backstab at every opportunity without giving some kind of reason?

No. Instead, the vast majority of us accept that our news is going to forever consist of natural disaster coverage, the occasional blurb about the horrible things terrorists are doing and celebrity gossip like Sarah Jessica Parker allowing her wardrobe to be held hostage by her four-year-old Beatles-obsessed entitlement brat. Oh, and sport. Can't forget the sport. Bah fucking humbug to the news. There need to be more Spider Jerusalems on newspapers.

Right. Have ranted. Feel better. Back to work.
thessalian: (bored)
The work is done. Repeat: the work is done. I am an admin god.

Unfortunately, I have found out the hard way how much one bangs the backs of one's hands against things in the course of the average day. All that dead skin on the burned bit of my hand? Well, it's not there anymore. There is a fabric plaster. There is useless micropore tape. There is pain. (There is now no longer useless micropore tape, because micropore tape is ... well, useless. And not sticky. Cat hair sticks faster than that stuff. Then again, cat hair sticks harder than any substance known to man, except possibly SuperGlue or whatever keeps Blair's lips perennially attached to Dubya's arse.) But on the whole, there is pain. Whee.

I booked my annual leave and will be spending those three days ... well, working. Though the commute will be a bitch (heh). Seriously, I plan to get lots and lots of Affils work done next week, barring random acts of kitten and nothing worse happening to my hand. And not being sucked mind, body and soul into the Legacy Challenge thing. Well, I could possibly just get it out of my system tonight, after quick drink with [livejournal.com profile] dodgyhoodoo and [livejournal.com profile] weaselbitch this evening. Saturday, of course, could go either way until 7 pm, when I'm meeting North London NaNoers (hopefully; some of them can't make Saturday), and Sunday's Mage. And of course, possible random acts of [livejournal.com profile] lokean.

Oh yeah; a minor note about The Good Old Hockey Game, the fantasy NHL league in which I participate. Well, sort of participate. Um-participate, if you will. I am getting my arse kicked. This is because I never remember to update my team to reflect which of my players are actually playing on any given night. This is either because I am completely overextended, or because I am a dumbarse. I'm really not sure which yet. Either way, at least I'm not dead last. Though that will change after this week because I am, I repeat, getting my arse kicked. 3-10 on points. Ow. I never win these things. Of course, it might help if I had a better idea of how the various players in the League are actually doing rather than relying on stats, but that's not going to happen because, hello! England! No televised NHL hockey except possibly at about 2 am in the middle of the fucking week! And yet I continue to play Fantasy League. I don't know why, but I am leaning towards either national imperative or dumbarse again.

I'm bored. I want to go home.

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