Pynchon

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

What I am not doing is fretting about arsehole behaviour over the weekend. It was a bad couple of days. I am not proud of any of it. Gone. In the past. Fuck it.

I was glad to go back to work today! Now, that is bad.

I had an email sent to me. It was from a problem that had been logged by the Internal Helpdesk of one of our customers. This is what the email said, including creative spelling.

"systm not working. was working last week. printr used to do al of it, but duzn't anymore. shold be more coming out. plse investigate urgntly."

That was it. Crap, basically.

I replied to the email, thus.

"What has been logged on this ticket is meaningless drivel. We, at The Corporation, cannot understand two words of it. Please advise the exact problem you are experiencing so that we can progress the issue."

Later, when news got around and hilarity ensued, Lorraine, as my manager, was sent to tell me off. I kept an admirably straight face. I am sorry to be a trouble to her.

Happy days.

Labels: The Corporation, Work

Yesterday, I changed the world. Did you notice?

You didn't notice?!?

How rude. I wish I hadn't bothered. So disappointing...

Anyway, I have a joke.

A man is dining in a fancy restaurant. A gorgeous redhead enters the restaurant alone and sits at the next table. The man considers engaging the redhead in conversation, but as he is a little bit shy, he decides against it.

Suddenly, the redhead sneezes and her glass eye comes flying out of its socket towards the man. Instinctively he reaches, grabs the eye out of the air and coolly hands it back to the redhead.

"Oh my, I am so sorry" the woman says, mortified, as she pops the eye back into
place. "May I buy you dinner to make it up to you?"

The man and the redhead enjoy a wonderful dinner. Afterwards they go to the theatre, followed by drinks. They talk, they laugh, she shares her deepest dreams and he shares his. She listens carefully to everything he has to say. She smiles a lot.

After paying for everything, the redhead asks the man if he would like to come to her place for a night cap and, possibly, stay for breakfast. He says yes.

Of course, they have a wonderful time.

The next morning, the redhead cooks a gourmet meal with all of the trimmings. The man is amazed. Everything had been SO incredible and SO amazing!

"You know", says the man. "You really are the perfect woman. Are you this nice to every guy that you meet?"

"No", she replies. "You just happened to catch my eye."

(At this point in the proceedings Yer Pynchon would like to apologize to any one eyed ladies who might be reading. I am sure that you are all very lovely indeed.)

Re. New Year resolutions. I try not to get involved in such nonsense, but despite my better judgement, I did make a small resolution to myself on New Years Eve. That is, illness and holiday permitting, to try to post to the blog everyday. Hah! That resolution didn't last very long, did it? One post. Pathetic.

I do have an excuse. I was tired. For the first time whilst working at The Corporation I allowed myself to be put onto the early morning rota. Lorraine said that I would like enjoy the new experience.

So it was that I found myself staggering, shell shocked, from my bed at 4:50am, at the bus stop at 6:05am, at work at 6:40am and pretending to do some work at 7:00am. True, I was gone from the office by 3:30pm, and with a convenient lift home organised with somebody leaving the office at the same time as me, was in my house and drinking a nice cup of Kenya at 4:05pm. But by 8pm... Oh, dear, I did feel tired, which is why I got this post started nice and early.

No complaints, though. I only have to do this for a couple of days and my next set of early hours is months away. There are people who have to do these kind of hours all of the time and get home late. Respect to them. My Dad was a Dustman for more than 25 years and he used to go to get to the depot for 6am every day using public transport. I do not remember ever seeing him in the mornings, except at weekends. I have no idea how he managed without the sleep. He used to go out every night. To the pub. To the cinema with me. A force of nature. That was my Dad. Massive energy. Amazing man.

Labels: Humour, Knackered, New Year, The Corporation

I will be all alone for most of this weekend. Lorraine has gone off to Golders Green to sort out some business with regard to her Aunt's house. Tonight she was supposed to have gone to the merger takeover party that The Corporation is holding, but decided against it at the last minute. I was never going to the party. When it was announced, Lorraine asked me if I would be attending. I told her that they could kiss my ass. I would rather have the money in my pocket than spend the evening socialising with people that I don't like and gorging myself on free food and getting pissed at the free bar. Other people who decided they were not going had excuses for their lack of commitment to the cause. Not me. Ain't I just the hero?

This week, Wednesday I think it was, the management decided that everybody who going to the party could leave at 14:30 to give them time to 'get ready'. That was nice of them. Shame they never said that a couple of weeks ago. They might have had a few more people attending. At 14:30 I stood at the window and watched the people leave. Pigs at the trough.

Bitter? Me?

Ha, ha, ha, ha...

Still, I have had an entertaining evening. Junk food, a double bill of "Scrubs", an episode of "Gangsters" on DVD, paid some bills, surfed the net. I will be watching the "Comedy Showcase" on Channel 4 in a minute and then I will be going to bed. I have a mad amount of things to do tomorrow.

Labels: The Corporation

It has been a bit of a disappointing week, blogwise, but I don't suppose every week can be a maelstrom of activity, now can it? Anyway, I couldn't be particularly arsed. I had, as Lorraine so succinctly puts it, "One on me".

Still, I have not exactly sat staring at the wall doing nothing.

This week I have...

1. Watched television.

Over the past month, BBC 3 have been repeating all of the recent "Doctor Who" series and specials, from Christopher Ecclestone to David Tennant. I have not watched them all of the repeats religiously, but I must say that what I have watched again, I have really enjoyed.

This week the climax of series 3 finally arrived with appearances of Derek Jacobi as Professor Yana and John Simm as Mr. Saxon. I really hope that one of those actors reappears in the next series. UK viewers will know which one I mean. I thought he was over the top and insane and cruel and just marvellous. (No spoilers for foreign friends who are still watching "Doctor Who". I believe that abroad the latest series is still being broadcast.)

I've also been watching "Heroes" on BBC2 (we have just reached the "Six Months Ago" story) which I am really enjoying. Last night I watched "Fonejacker" (never seen it before) and I laughed like a hyena and "Dog Face" (ditto) that was kind of terrible, but it had some moments.

2. Read books.

I have finished "The Blind Assassin" by Margaret Atwood, which I thought was really good. A really engrossing read. I think it is the first Booker Prize winner that I have ever read. Maybe I will dig out a few more of them.

I am now halfway through reading "Making History" by Stephen Fry, about which I have mixed feelings.

"Making History" is quite obviously a Stephen Fry book (he always uses 3 words when he could quite easily get away with 1.) It has (I think, but I may be wrong) a bit of gay subtext that is about to come to the fore. It has got the most obvious Time Travel plot of all time, which would normally have been rejected by anybody who has read any Science Fiction as being total cliche from start to end. It ignores the whole principle of time paradoxes. It contains lazy passages where, I feel, Mr. Fry just couldn't be bothered to write it properly.

(So you are not enjoying it then, John?)

Au contraire! "Making History" satisfies the only requirement of a book and that is to keep you turning the pages because you want to see what happens next.

3. Working.

After the release of the new organisation chart (on which I am positioned just above the guy who cleans the toilets) the new M.D. deemed to pay us a visit to do a morale boosting presentation to the troops. I thought that Max Headroom had disappeared many years ago, but obviously I was wrong.

Max was blonde and blue eyed. Slick hair. Nice suit. He spoke well, I'll give him that, but his spiel was so full of little jokes and, aww shucks, self depreciating, I'm-just-like-you modest sentiments about himself and his role in The Corporation, that I wish I had had a grenade to toss into the centre of the room to end it all.

Suit. Salesman. Shark. Nazi youth Conservative poster boy. Tosser. Cunt.

Of course at the end everybody clapped like seals, including Lorraine who was sitting next to me. I sat on my hands, fingering my crack (the highlight of my day) and scowled. Lorraine told me to "Stop it".

4. Told Lorraine that she looked great.

Lorraine had her hair done last night. She was due to have her hair done on Sunday, but we will be travelling back from Nottingham. I compared Lorraine favourably to Vanessa Feltz. It didn't go down well. (How was I to know?)

5. Got better.

The dizziness stopped once the earache started. Maybe it was something to do with my inner ear? The earache has also stopped.

We are in Nottingham tomorrow at the social event of the year. (Informal, thank God! I have not worn by wicked blue suit since 2004. I doubt at this moment in time that I would be able to navigate my belly into the trousers. I would be fucked if I really had to dress up for a bit of a do.) Maybe we will see some of you there. If not, I will be back on Sunday.

Labels: Reading, Television, The Corporation, Time

"The 39 Steps". The Criterion Theatre. Evening performance. 25th August 2007.



It's funny how these things work out.

About a month ago, on one lazy Saturday afternoon, I found myself watching Hitchcock's 1935 movie version of "The 39 Steps". I cannot be bothered to look up the post at this exact moment, but I think I remember writing that I thought that "The 39 Steps" was a little bit old and a little bit creaky, but that the script still sparkled and probably would still work as a modern film with modern production values.

Did I mention at the time that I thought "The 39 Steps" was also prime material for a parody of an old fashioned British thriller, featuring a frowning hero well versed in the art of the stiff upper lip? I don't think that I did, but I thought it at the time. (I have resisted the temptation to adjust the previous post. Revisionism of history is so easy when blogging, isn't it?)

For a while now the Arts pullout in Saturday's edition of "The Independent" has had the stage version of "The 39 Steps" as one of the best 5 West End shows in London, and rightly so. "The 39 Steps" is a riotous, energetic and glorious piss take of Hitchcock's movie.

"The 39 Steps" features 4 actors playing 139 roles. A nearly empty stage. Clever props (packing cases, chairs, a window frame, a door frame, a toy train) and lighting. With those ingredients, plus great performances, "The 39 Steps" manages to duplicate the entire original movie.

I thought "The 39 Steps" was wonderful. Absolutely brilliant and a great tribute to the original film. Really funny and well worthy of the Olivier award it picked up for best comedy last year.

********

No more reviews until the weekend.

You're relieved....? I'm knackered. It's hard work writing, when you actually have nothing to write and are crap at it anyway.

Oh, by the way. I forgot to mention it. The Corporation has decided to finally scrap the product that I work on.

Worry? Me? No sweat. Apparently I still have a job. I don't know how that happened, but I suspect that the photos I have of the new M.D. with a mountain goat might have something to do with my delayed departure.

Lorraine is dragging me along with her tomorrow to see her ex-Boss' new baby. (Ex-Boss being Bobby Blue who is married to the lovely Lana with the torquoise eyes. I think I may have mentioned Lana before.) I may be here to post, or I may not. Either way, I will be back on Saturday.

Have a good weekend, all.

Labels: Plays, The Corporation, Work

Somewhere along the way I forgot to mention seeing "Grow Your Own" at the Midlands Art Centre, on Saturday.



While it's not exactly a film that is going to set the world on fire with it's originality, "Grow Your Own" is a perfectly OK drama/comedy. (Note, it is a drama/comedy rather than a comedy/drama. There is a difference.)

The trailer would have you believe that "Grow Your Own" is a film concerned with British eccentrics, stuck in their ways, perturbed by the influence of foreigners on the little piece of England they call the Allotment. Er... Actually that is exactly what it is about (cliches ahoy!), but it is the sometimes very tragic human stories behind the cliches that make "Grow Your Own" interesting enough.

The cast is made up of the same faces that are always turning up in British films. (Philip Jackson, Eddie Marsan, John Henshaw, Olivia Colman, Omid Djalili, et al.) All of them perfectly, and probably obviously, cast.

Not world breaking, but a perfectly amiable film for a quiet afternoon at the cinema. Yes, it is another, I'm assuming, lottery funded British movie of no interest to anybody outside of the British Isles, but give it a go. You might like it.

******

The Company is now The Corporation. The takeover, announced several months ago, has been ratified. There was a presentation outside the canteen today. I didn't attend. I had important things to do like plucking the hair out of my arse. Lorraine didn't push the point. Somebody had to stay behind to man the phones.

One of the reasons I didn't go was because I was annoyed by the 'welcome' email from the new Chief Executive. In it he compared the two pre-takeover Companies as being 'Championship Teams' and the post-takeover Corporation as being a 'Premiership Team, soon the win the Cup!'

Utter nonsense. Fucking bollocks.

I didn't fancy hearing any more of this Corporate shit. Apparently, from the reactions of people afterwards, I made the right decision. The cunts suits shifted greasily like used car salesmen or paedophiles and nothing of interest was said. Difficult answers to difficult questions (like "Will there be redundancies?") were glossed over. ("There are a lot of decisions to be made", blah, blah.) Did we really expect anything else? No.

A new Corporation logo was unveiled. Very nice. Later, I unveiled my own Corporation logo. Two stick men, signifying the workers and the management, underneath The Corporation logo. The worker stick man is bending over while the manager is fucking him up the arse. Tasteful, I thought. I stuck it on my PC. Lorraine removed it. For some reason she didn't like it.

I think I should really get my CV started, but at the moment I am channelling Keith Allen, a man who really does not appear to give a fuck about much all. A good book will always influence my thinking.

I'm just about to start "Mort" by Terry Pratchett. Pray for me.

Labels: Movies, The Corporation

Yesterday, on a cold and miserable morning in Birmingham, Bill Smug (M.D. of The Company) called a meeting of all employees. The meeting was held in the big room outside of the canteen, where the gnomes of Web Support live. After a bit of faffing about it was announced to the expectant throng that The Company were going to merge with The Corporation.

There was a presentation. It was on a flipchart. Old school.

Phrases were bandied about like

"The opportunity to create a business synergy between our two compatible, but competing, business enterprises was an irresistible force too great to resist"

and

"We expect a phased, strategic rationalisation of merged company resources to take place over the next 9 months"

and, my particular favourite

"The expanded enterprise will gain from The Company's wildly successfull Software team on the Indian sub-continent, enabling it to bring new technological benefits to the customer's of The Corporation worldwide".

What's that again?

"wildly successfull Software team"??

Oh, fuck off, will you please?

There were other key phrases, but they gave me a headache when I tried to digest them. Anyway, by that point I was busy checking out the arse and the legs of some girl from accounts, who was standing about 3 feet away from me. She had on high heels, no tights or stockings, a purple skirt. That's as far as I got.

Smug answered questions.

"What's the new operation going to be called?"

"It's going to be called The Corporation."

"Not, The Company-Corporation?"

"No."

"So, it's a takeover and not a merger?"

"No... It's a takeover."

"So, why isn't The Company name going to be part of the new name."

"Er... That's just the way it is."

Ah... That's OK then.

"What about redundancies?"

"While we obviously cannot rule out redundancies, staff levels will need to be studied to make sure that we are competing..."

Blah, blah, blah. You can make the rest up for yourself, if you like.

"Why did they take us over and not us they them over?"

"They are more profitable than us, even though their product isn't as good!"

Of course. That makes sense.

It turns out that Bill Smug will be taking up a temporary position as Bagman Deputy M.D. with The Corporation during the merge takeover period. A party will be held, at some juncture, to celebrate his departure when it happens.

Party? WTF?

Takeovers. Mergers. Business corporate maneuvering. I am uninterested.

What's going to happen is going to happen with no input from me, and it might turn out to be a great thing for me (the almighty kick up the arse that I need?) or it might not (business as usual.). Lorraine has expressed the opinion that if The Corporation are a professional outfit, and it looks that way, the takeover might be a very good thing indeed, with a cull of middle management most definitely on the cards. There has already been one high profile scalp and that is the Finance Director of The Company, who will not be joining The Corporation in any context. Shame that. I have spoken to that guy on a number of occasions and he seemed a very decent, straight kind of guy.

I'll wait and see. What else is there to do? One guy has already said to me that he will be praying to be kicked out so that he can enjoy the payoff. He advised me to do the same.

As if I would do anything else.

Labels: The Company, The Corporation