Raptus Regaliter

Troutgirl, a well-known person in PHP circles, recently got fired from her job at a site called Friendster.  The reason given was "blogging".  However, if you read her blog, you'll find it's pretty innocent.  It's certainly freer from casual obscenity than the one you're reading.

The reason, apparently, that she got fired is that she commented on an already-public fact : that Friendster had switched from java to php, as they found they had problems with scaling.  (See entry for June 29th, 2004). This comment was picked up on Slashdot, leading to a huge argument between PHP and Java Advocacy groups.  As everyone knows, the 3rd stage of a project is punishing the innocent, so, unsurprisingly, she got it in the neck.

Well, I think that I can see why Friendster has problems.  Rather ironic, considering the name of the site.

Following Jeremy 5x5's report on Adrian's report on the ridiculous linking rules for the Athens Olympic Website...

Space Whippets stole my Toupeé

MONKEY JISM!!!!

Now then, now then, Deary Lord, rattle rattle jewellery jewellery.  (For US residents, replace the previous with similar Casey Casem-isms)

And here are the top of the flops for this weak chart...

At No.1 it's "Mental" from Androgyne - A bunch of effeminate whoopsies if ever I saw them.

At No.2, "Little Miss Perfect" from Spliff -  Mental Indie favorites gush forth on the joys of hanging round the gates of Sutton Coldfield Girls High School in a scruffy old van with a mattress in the back.

At No.3, Deviant with "Chinchilla Trouble" -  More rap metal rumblings that attempt to put a different swerve on their stablemates Korn. They're not shocking anybody, the song subject is more in-line with the Pet Shop Boys, and the only TV they'll get is on Rolf's Animal Hospital.

In No.4, it's "New Kinky Boots" by Pants, who are well-named, as they are complete and utter pants. Three semi-naked schoolgirls dancing in time whilst some emaciated bloke with terminal dandruff and greasy hair vaguely manhandles a keyboard, does not a record make..

Holding on at 5 is "Moist" from Pledge.  Yet another bunch of indie hopefuls with a meaningless name guaranteed not to offend. They certainly couldn't get arrested in this town, particularly as crimes against music are not arrestable offences.

Flouncing in at 6 : "Squelch" from Pansy.  A bunch of transvestite "EastEnders" rejects from London who think that ripping off the Velvet Underground is something new.

Gazing at their shoes at 7 : "Lickey Hills" from Sophomore.  Tuneful, catchy, upbeat, danceable - This record is none of these things.

Lolloping in looking like they've wet themselves at 8 : "Phunkee BeatZ" from Da Noo EmmCees. A bunch of idiots from Southampton desperately trying to convince everybody that they're black by wearing outsize trousers, cheap jewellery from Argos and putting their caps on back to front.

And similarly lolloping at 9 with the aid of a Zimmer frame : "Kappa Rappa Styleee" from KR&Co. Old School unhip hip-hop by old schoolboys.

Swearing the air blue at 10 : "CrockerDial" by Alley Gates.  The man has a mouth like an explosion in a sewage factory.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the state of the charts...god help us.

Any of you who remember the "Day of the Rat" episode of 70's TV series "Doomwatch" about genetically-engineered rodents will no doubt be somewhat unnerved by this story....

According to the Scientists involved, this may bring interesting benefits in the treatment of muscular dystrophy and other muscle problems.

Just as soon as they manage to catch one of the little buggers....

I expect the announcement of supercat any day now....

The Police State is alive and well.  Unfortunately.

The weekend wasn't so bad as I imagined.  Unlike some of Her Maj's past colleagues, this lot were a lot more laid-back and not obsessed with money.

Still missed Motörhead, though.

Those of you who don't work in computer programming might as well sit this one out.

Object-orientation has been one of the major innovations in computer programming in the past 20 years.  I was first taught object-orientation using ADA, which turned out to be the worst possible way to learn it.  I subsequently didn't get a handle on the methodology until much later.  I didn't really need to.

However, having now got a reasonable idea of what object-orientation is about, I'm beginning to realise that an awful lot of people who say they write object-oriented code, don't.  For example : I have recently come across a system where all database queries are done via objects.  You want a new query, you write an object to do it.  So far, so good.  I've written a similar system in the past.  However, the problem is the structure of these objects.  You see, instead of writing one base class and then using inheritance, so that all you have to do is write a class stub altering a variable or two or changing a function slightly during the inheritance, each class is fully written from scratch, and each object just contains one function.  No inheritance is done, other than that inherent in "copy and paste" coding, which, correct me if I'm wrong, IS EXACTLY THE BLOODY THING OBJECT-ORIENTATION IS SUPPOSED TO STOP!!

Look; it's quite simple, folks.  Object-orientation allows you to write a block of code which can have its component parts changed, instead of copying-and-pasting code, which means that you don't have twenty different copies of slightly-different functions lying around, all requiring updating when you discover a bug.  This means that the computer keeps track of all the different versions and uses the right version at the right time, and you don't have to go around re-inventing the wheel every time you find a problem that would be fixed by function x, but which is subtly different.  This means that you don't go around WASTING MY FUCKING TIME by creating x copies of the SAME FUCKING SOURCE CODE. 

If you cannot get this major feature of object-oriented programming through your head, then I humbly suggest you seek employment in some other area.

 
Not last night, but the night before,
the Death of Rock n' Roll came knocking on the door
He didn't bring his scythe; he didn't bring a harp
just a five-string telecaster, which he'd tuned slightly sharp
He looked just like Keith Richards, and wore an evil grin,
His pass accessed all areas, (but I dare not let him in).
He said "I've been in the Business, son, for fifty years or more
and escorted some of your favorite stars to the ultimate stage door."

"'Live fast, die young and damn you all' seems to be their creed,
but when I turn up in the dressing room,
you should hear the buggers plead.
But by then, it's far too late, as if they need reminding.
They put themselves in the hands of Fate,
and all HIS contracts are binding."

"I like to play my little jokes, upon the souls I tend.
Townshend will grow old before he dies,
but I'll have taken all his friends.
So let this be a lesson, to all who play guitar
think twice about the risks ahead, if you try to be a star.
And if you do become a star, you'll rest assured for then
at a time you least expect it, I'll knock on your door again."

Well, Friday the 13th truly stuck home this week, didn't it?

First I lose my gig in Bonn on the 11th.

Secondly, this weekend is the Kölner Ringfest, and Motörhead are playing on Saturday.

But I won't be here, will I?   Because I'm being dragged down to Veldenz to Her Maj's parents, to spend the weekend with what can only be described as a "wunch" of Bankers.

Drat. And Double Drat.

This morning Her Maj and I had to go to the Ausländeramt (Aliens Office).  I have been having problems in getting my permanent green card to stay in Germany.  I originally had a 5-year one when I first came over.  When it expired I had to go to the Office in Ehrenfeld where the woman I had to talk to (hereafter known as Ermintrude) behaved like an absolute cow to me.  She gave me a 3-month pass, and told me I must produce a load of different papers to get a permanent one.

On the second visit, she was even more of a cow, and demanded to see all sorts of other papers that she hadn't told me about, including a rent contract.  Since Her Maj and I live together in a flat she owns, Her Maj wrote a letter stating that I lived there.  This, apparently, wasn't good enough for Ermintrude[1], who demanded to see the "Grundbuch" (the ownership papers of the flat).  Her maj wasn't too keen on this, as it was practically demanding financial disclosures, and so wrote another letter explaining.

Third visit: Not a good time.  The person before me had a huge argument with Ermintrude, which ended up in a screaming match.  Ermintrude then proceeded to take it out on me, taking Her Maj's letter extremely personally, and behaving generally as though she was going to have me thrown out the office, if not the country.  She insisted on seeing the Grundbuch, and as evidence, printed out a couple of sheets of paper full of indecipherable German which were placed in front of me.  She pointed to bits on the paper, then took it away and ripped it up.

It was at this point I got the message that I was dealing with a racist who believed all foreigners were idiots.

Final visit : today. An absolute necessity, as my 3-month pass runs out soon.  It turns out that Ermintrude is on holiday - doubtless deliberately making life a misery for the locals.  Her Maj had come with me (she sells distressed loans to  nervous bankers, so she's well-known for her cruelty down at the donkey sanctuary.[2]),  and was ready for a punch-up, but was disappointed.  Instead we got to see someone else, who seemed to know a bit about Ermintrude's peculiar habit of lengthening applications.  Her Maj basically talked with her for five minutes over the cat pictures on her desk, and I got my green card.

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the power of cats.

[1]  I know, Ermintrude was a nice cow, but I can't think of any nasty cows.
[2]  She can talk all four legs off one and persuade it to go for a walk afterward.  Why she has to do this to sell loans is anyone's guess.
[3]  There is no 3rd footnote.

I've hurt my hand.  I was doing some DIY stuff a couple of days ago at the behest of Her Maj, and something in my right hand went funny and started to hurt.  It didn't swell or anything, except that I can't grip anything, and that makes playing the guitar painful.  I've left off it hoping it would be back to normal in a day or so, but it isn't.

So I've had to cancel my gig on 11th August.

Shit.