Saturday, May 5, 2012
FOP: Ever closer to Home
Our story so far:
My printer, the one I bought less than a year ago, needs a new "drum." As far as I can determine, the drum is the removable cradle that the toner cartridge sits in.
Sigh.
So, off to Office Depot, where I bought the thing, and where I regularly buy the $75 toner cartridges. My spending on toner cartridges by now dwarfs the original cost of the printer. But it's a good printer-copier-scanner; prints very rapidly, and so forth.
Oops. I can't seem to find the drum, even though I see lots of drums for other Brother printers. After a bit, a helpful young man joins me. He verifies that they have no drum. So, of course, I ask if he can order me one, call me when it comes in.
"Just step over here with me," he says, and I comply, assuming he wants to write down my phone number and maybe the number of the drum I need.
But no. He proceeds to go to the Office Depot website and order the drum, from start to finish, all the dreary pages finding the right item, entering the product number on another screen, selecting the type of payment --he clicks "pay at register"-- and then he needs all my information. How did I learn about the website, for crying out loud. My address, etc.
By this time I am getting antsy, and irritated. He selects "send," and tells me it'll probably arrive at my house on Monday.
"No. I want to pick it up here. I wanted you to order it, and call me when it came in. Why all this stuff?"
"We can't do that. We don't stock it."
"So what? Get one for me. And, by the way, I bought the damn printer here; you stock that. And I have a new toner cartridge under my arm, here. You stock that."
"We don't stock that drum. We'd have to change our whole order series if we wanted to start stocking that drum. And we can't just order it. They'd charge us for it." This brings me up short, for a sec.
Whatever. We proceed to the register, where I will buy my cartridge. He's carrying paperwork. When we get to the register, he rings up two sales: one for the toner I am taking with me, and one for the $110 drum I have ordered --and for which I now must pay in advance. And he's called a manager, because to change my e-order so the drum will be sent to the store, he needs a manager. They can't change the shipping address, and I tell them that, regardless of when anyone tells me it'll be delivered, it won't. And when it is delivered, I won't be home to get it.
But I am intrigued, even as I am getting pissed off. So I ask the manager, is this really just a franchise?
"No. Officer Depot owns and operates this store."
"Then what's all this about them charging you if you order it? And who cares if they do? You obviously have a market for the drums, as I can promise you, the ones that come with the machine don't last a year."
Well, it turns out that an intercompany charge is apparently just as bad as employee embezzlement, or storm damage, or something. They must floor-plan these stores like the carmakers do the dealers. If you want something they don't have, it's to the internet.
Now, you can't pick up a news magazine these days without finding a piece on how Amazon and other virtual stores that run out of faceless fulfillment houses scattered in godforsaken rural sinks of depression around the country are bankrupting the retail stores of America. So what do the retail stores do, to save themselves and their local-merchant friendliness and personal service? Why, they operate exactly like Amazon does, except that you order on their computers instead of your own.
In the film that gave this blog its name, there is a scene where George Clooney is standing at the counter of a country general store, in need of a fan belt for his (stolen) flivver. Turns out it'll take two weeks for the fan belt to be delivered. Clooney says, "Two weeks! That don't do me no good."
In frustration, thinking, he says, offhand, that he wants some hair pomade. The storekeeper turns to a high shelf and comes back with a can of Fop.
"I don't want Fop, goddammit," Clooney expostulates. "I'm a Dapper Dan man."
"Watch your language, young feller; this is a public establishment. I can get you Dapper Dan. Take two weeks." (You can tell I'm having fun, here.)
Clooney explodes. "Two weeks! Why, ain't this place a geographical oddity. Two weeks from everywhere!"
Like George, I don't want Fop. And I don't go to a store expecting that it's actually a big walk-in computer terminal. But, apparently, that is our future.
And it's Fop. And I don't want it.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Get the Point, Rick!
Mr. Santorum, speaking with an adversarial group in New Hampshire, took the anti-gay marriage argument in a typically (for him) ridiculous direction the other day. "So what's okay?" he asked (I am paraphrasing). "What about three people --what about polygamy? Is that okay? How about man on dog? Where do you draw the line?"
In trying to fit his particular bias into a reductio ad absurdium argument, he misses the entire point: Okay, say that no, a polygamous marriage is not okay. That has no effect on the argument in favor of gay marriage. Polygamy is not okay, nor is polyandry (assuming we decide so); but they are not okay for anybody: if you allow three-person marriages in the case of two men and a woman, say, but not two women and a man, you are then in the place we find ourselves now.
The point is that the US government privileges certain people by allowing them special rights and privileges; these rights and privileges have real, serious, and lasting effects on the people so favored. If you are going to do this, then equity requires that the same rights and privileges be extended to everyone --you cannot pick and choose.
Here's how this works: if two people can file a joint tax return, then any two people ought to be able to do so, not just two of whom you happen to approve. If my spouse can be covered by my health insurance policy, and can inherit my property by operation of law, and my surviving spouse can enjoy my social security benefits, by what right do you tell me who my spouse has to be? Some years ago, states took it upon themselves to deny me the benefits of marriage to some women, but not to others: that is an impermissible intrusion into my private affairs, on one hand, and disadvantages me socially and economically in comparison with others, on no reasonable basis. This is well settled.
If you wish to do away with the joint federal tax return, fine: we will all be treated equally as a result, in taxation, and nobody can complain. If you want to change the laws of inheritance, etc, do so --but don't create separate classes of benefits for some people that others cannot enjoy.
The point, again, is simple: we don't care how you define "marriage." But you cannot define it in an exclusionary way and then privilege "marriage" in the legal system.
Maybe the government --all governments, at whatever level-- should just get out of the marriage business. Drop the concept from our laws, and gays won't have any complaints.
And if you still want to keep three people from living in a sinful menage a trois, go ahead and try.
In trying to fit his particular bias into a reductio ad absurdium argument, he misses the entire point: Okay, say that no, a polygamous marriage is not okay. That has no effect on the argument in favor of gay marriage. Polygamy is not okay, nor is polyandry (assuming we decide so); but they are not okay for anybody: if you allow three-person marriages in the case of two men and a woman, say, but not two women and a man, you are then in the place we find ourselves now.
The point is that the US government privileges certain people by allowing them special rights and privileges; these rights and privileges have real, serious, and lasting effects on the people so favored. If you are going to do this, then equity requires that the same rights and privileges be extended to everyone --you cannot pick and choose.
Here's how this works: if two people can file a joint tax return, then any two people ought to be able to do so, not just two of whom you happen to approve. If my spouse can be covered by my health insurance policy, and can inherit my property by operation of law, and my surviving spouse can enjoy my social security benefits, by what right do you tell me who my spouse has to be? Some years ago, states took it upon themselves to deny me the benefits of marriage to some women, but not to others: that is an impermissible intrusion into my private affairs, on one hand, and disadvantages me socially and economically in comparison with others, on no reasonable basis. This is well settled.
If you wish to do away with the joint federal tax return, fine: we will all be treated equally as a result, in taxation, and nobody can complain. If you want to change the laws of inheritance, etc, do so --but don't create separate classes of benefits for some people that others cannot enjoy.
The point, again, is simple: we don't care how you define "marriage." But you cannot define it in an exclusionary way and then privilege "marriage" in the legal system.
Maybe the government --all governments, at whatever level-- should just get out of the marriage business. Drop the concept from our laws, and gays won't have any complaints.
And if you still want to keep three people from living in a sinful menage a trois, go ahead and try.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Occupy, Chicago!
Here's my take on our mayor's removal of 175 Occupy Protesters from Congress Plaza in the dead of night, last weekend:
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Apocalyptica
Just now, introduced to this group by Jessica. Thank You, Jess! Cellos. And they led me, through the iTunes feature that automatically decides for you what you are likely to enjoy, to Psychgograss, and to "Midnight in Mali' by Djelmady Tounkara and Habib Koite (with whom I already was familiar). Wonderful music.
And a long way from listening to KAKC by the hour, hoping they would play "Johnny B Good." Did they invent iTunes, and YouTube, and all the rest (check out this! from Char Baho) just for the convenience of us old farts who want what we want, and now? Don't know; but, if so, Thanks! We richly deserve it. After all, haven't we fucked up the world as much as we could, during our turn? Bring on the Music!
And a long way from listening to KAKC by the hour, hoping they would play "Johnny B Good." Did they invent iTunes, and YouTube, and all the rest (check out this! from Char Baho) just for the convenience of us old farts who want what we want, and now? Don't know; but, if so, Thanks! We richly deserve it. After all, haven't we fucked up the world as much as we could, during our turn? Bring on the Music!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Lute in the Attic
Department of One Thing Leads to Another:
Reading the poem Yannis Keats by Angelos Sikelianos (tr by A.E. Stallings), a poem that left me feeling both refreshed and nostalgic (refreshed by the simplicity, the delicacy of touch and the cogency of image; nostalgic for the poetry of my youth, somehow) brought to mind instantly, and for no apparent reason, Kenneth Patchen's wonderful recording with the Chamber Jazz Sextet from, I believe, 1959 --certainly that was the year I listened to it incessantly.
Patchen's art --almost unique, to my mind-- was in taking an often dark and sort of laconic mode such as was common to the Beats (at least the ones I read), and giving it an oddly compelling beauty. Nowhere, for me, was this more true than in "The Lute in the Attic," with the music, I now learn, derived from Thomas Campion. A sample (from memory):
"Your father's gone daft, Willy.
And Iselena's flaxen hair
Is the color of the mud at the bottom of Rathbeggin Creek."
Ugly, in one way; but beautifully stark all the same, with the purposeful "Willy" (the poem had introduced the character as "William," if I recall correctly) forcing one to confront an unadorned truth. Hugely suggestive, and at the same time a kick in the teeth. Certainly to a boy of fourteen.
And with the facile, almost effortless internet at hand, I found not only the essay referenced above, but lots more on Patchen, Kenneth Rexroth, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso, and on and on. And eventually, a New Republic essay by Rexroth in 1960, about (of all things) the Nixon-Kennedy debates, from which these gems:
"As time goes on, television may well purge American politics of gross ill manners."
"I don't think there is any question but that it would be impossible today to run, much less elect, a gross buffoon, a ruffian, or even a boozy, good-natured rascal."
Mercifully, perhaps, Rexroth died in 1982, a decade after Patchen, and less than a year before the much younger poet who introduced his work to me, Ted Berrigan.
So, I'll find a copy of Patchen's Selected Poems; maybe, if I'm lucky, find the recording, too. Relive my youth, and dig out of the cold earth of Foreign Affairs and The Economist, into some thick enveloping loam. Funny: never worried about Fop, then.
Reading the poem Yannis Keats by Angelos Sikelianos (tr by A.E. Stallings), a poem that left me feeling both refreshed and nostalgic (refreshed by the simplicity, the delicacy of touch and the cogency of image; nostalgic for the poetry of my youth, somehow) brought to mind instantly, and for no apparent reason, Kenneth Patchen's wonderful recording with the Chamber Jazz Sextet from, I believe, 1959 --certainly that was the year I listened to it incessantly.
Patchen's art --almost unique, to my mind-- was in taking an often dark and sort of laconic mode such as was common to the Beats (at least the ones I read), and giving it an oddly compelling beauty. Nowhere, for me, was this more true than in "The Lute in the Attic," with the music, I now learn, derived from Thomas Campion. A sample (from memory):
"Your father's gone daft, Willy.
And Iselena's flaxen hair
Is the color of the mud at the bottom of Rathbeggin Creek."
Ugly, in one way; but beautifully stark all the same, with the purposeful "Willy" (the poem had introduced the character as "William," if I recall correctly) forcing one to confront an unadorned truth. Hugely suggestive, and at the same time a kick in the teeth. Certainly to a boy of fourteen.
And with the facile, almost effortless internet at hand, I found not only the essay referenced above, but lots more on Patchen, Kenneth Rexroth, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso, and on and on. And eventually, a New Republic essay by Rexroth in 1960, about (of all things) the Nixon-Kennedy debates, from which these gems:
"As time goes on, television may well purge American politics of gross ill manners."
"I don't think there is any question but that it would be impossible today to run, much less elect, a gross buffoon, a ruffian, or even a boozy, good-natured rascal."
Mercifully, perhaps, Rexroth died in 1982, a decade after Patchen, and less than a year before the much younger poet who introduced his work to me, Ted Berrigan.
So, I'll find a copy of Patchen's Selected Poems; maybe, if I'm lucky, find the recording, too. Relive my youth, and dig out of the cold earth of Foreign Affairs and The Economist, into some thick enveloping loam. Funny: never worried about Fop, then.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Republicans: Further Cuts Needed
Rep. Paul Ryan (R, WI) heralded a new round of federal austerity measures in a hastily-called news conference on the steps of the United States Capitol today.
"I was outraged to learn, in research as part of my role as Chairman of the Budget Committee, that the amount known as Avogadro's number is over six hundred sextillion," Ryan said. "We are going to look into that; and we're going to reduce it."
Ryan called for hearings, which, he promised, will be fair but uncompromising. "Waste, in a program that size, is a serious concern," he said. An aide later clarified that Ryan was not accusing anyone of any specific malfeasance, but believes that government must do more with less, given the deficit. Responding to questions about Ryan's assertion that Avogadro had been a "big-government liberal," the aide indicated that the congressman had been speaking in general terms.
"The congressman believes that nothing is off the table, nothing is sacrosanct," the aide told reporters gathered later in the congressman's office. "We're looking into E = mc2,for instance. That's a huge number. We ought to be able to get by without the exponent, in these difficult times."
"I was outraged to learn, in research as part of my role as Chairman of the Budget Committee, that the amount known as Avogadro's number is over six hundred sextillion," Ryan said. "We are going to look into that; and we're going to reduce it."
Ryan called for hearings, which, he promised, will be fair but uncompromising. "Waste, in a program that size, is a serious concern," he said. An aide later clarified that Ryan was not accusing anyone of any specific malfeasance, but believes that government must do more with less, given the deficit. Responding to questions about Ryan's assertion that Avogadro had been a "big-government liberal," the aide indicated that the congressman had been speaking in general terms.
"The congressman believes that nothing is off the table, nothing is sacrosanct," the aide told reporters gathered later in the congressman's office. "We're looking into E = mc2,for instance. That's a huge number. We ought to be able to get by without the exponent, in these difficult times."
When pressed by reporters about Avogadro's number, for example, being a scientific constant, the aide replied, "you mean it's in the hands of the same people who make wild claims about global warming? In the Winter!!!???"
"Don't think that we're not on to what some scientists are doing," said Ryan's appointments secretary. He pointed out that, with a simple adjustment to the Congressman's thermometer, the water for his tea now boils at 80 degrees. "That's the kind of savings you can expect from a new approach, a conservative approach," the secretary concluded.
"Don't think that we're not on to what some scientists are doing," said Ryan's appointments secretary. He pointed out that, with a simple adjustment to the Congressman's thermometer, the water for his tea now boils at 80 degrees. "That's the kind of savings you can expect from a new approach, a conservative approach," the secretary concluded.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Signals?
From this morning's report on NPR:
1. Regarding the death of the musician Kurt Cobain, which was mentioned in a "preview" of some broadcast scheduled for today: A sound bite from someone who knew him (and I am paraphrasing): "I remember, I woke up the next morning and I said to myself, 'I'm waking up, and ... he's not. Wow.'"
Not exactly "In Memoriam A.H.H." But a common type of expression of the profundity of things in general, these days. We're still slightly above the level of grunting; but the progression towards monosyllabic verbalization of our understanding of life, the universe, and everything proceeds apace. We used to parody the stoned hippie's "Oh, wow!" as the height of his expressive ability; nowadays, such expressions get you on NPR.
2. Libyan rebels celebrated the news (premature, as it turned out) of the capture of Sirit, Qaddafi's hometown, with wild demonstrations of joy, principally involving the firing of automatic weapons into the air.
The use of machine guns as roman candles, of course, is a familiar sight, particularly, it seems, in Arab lands. But this does not speak well for the organization, professionalism, or even sense of purpose of the Libyan rebels. Rather, it marks them as what they are more or less acknowledged to be: ragtag assemblies of angry young men without any particular structure to their effort.
This does not bode well, either for their success, or, should they succeed, for their long-term prospects as organizers of a new government. This is particularly true given the report that followed, which focused on their ability to resupply and stated that they will, quite possibly, run out of weapons and ammunition.
If this is who we (sorry, I mean the "coalition") are sponsoring, we may come to regret it. It would appear that the Taliban are models of discipline by comparison.
Both these items are emblems of the deterioration of things in the world, as if entropy is reminding us of its inevitable triumph. Or maybe I am just an old guy who longs for President Eisenhower or something.
1. Regarding the death of the musician Kurt Cobain, which was mentioned in a "preview" of some broadcast scheduled for today: A sound bite from someone who knew him (and I am paraphrasing): "I remember, I woke up the next morning and I said to myself, 'I'm waking up, and ... he's not. Wow.'"
Not exactly "In Memoriam A.H.H." But a common type of expression of the profundity of things in general, these days. We're still slightly above the level of grunting; but the progression towards monosyllabic verbalization of our understanding of life, the universe, and everything proceeds apace. We used to parody the stoned hippie's "Oh, wow!" as the height of his expressive ability; nowadays, such expressions get you on NPR.
2. Libyan rebels celebrated the news (premature, as it turned out) of the capture of Sirit, Qaddafi's hometown, with wild demonstrations of joy, principally involving the firing of automatic weapons into the air.
The use of machine guns as roman candles, of course, is a familiar sight, particularly, it seems, in Arab lands. But this does not speak well for the organization, professionalism, or even sense of purpose of the Libyan rebels. Rather, it marks them as what they are more or less acknowledged to be: ragtag assemblies of angry young men without any particular structure to their effort.
This does not bode well, either for their success, or, should they succeed, for their long-term prospects as organizers of a new government. This is particularly true given the report that followed, which focused on their ability to resupply and stated that they will, quite possibly, run out of weapons and ammunition.
If this is who we (sorry, I mean the "coalition") are sponsoring, we may come to regret it. It would appear that the Taliban are models of discipline by comparison.
Both these items are emblems of the deterioration of things in the world, as if entropy is reminding us of its inevitable triumph. Or maybe I am just an old guy who longs for President Eisenhower or something.
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