A Monster.

“And, though the past had it share of injustice 

Kind was the spirit in many a way

But, it’s protectors and friends have been sleeping

Now it’s a monster and will not obey.”

Yesterday Monster by Steppenwolf, came on the stereo in the car. A fantastic song describing the rise and fall of a dream. An imperfect beginning, a troubled middle passage and a disastrous end. All the elements of a great story. I really like the song, the power, the imagery, the story.

Today, I saw the director of Homeland Security defend the actions of the agents on the southern border, taking children from families, locking them in little prisons. “Just doing our job,” was the message. And by God, she was sick of people criticizing these fine men and women for just doing their job.

And I thought of another song, Who Killed Davey Moore by Bob Dylan about a boxer that died in the ring from traumatic head injuries, in a fight that should have been stopped. Everybody from the referee to the trainer to the boxing promoter denied any responsibility, just doing our job, was their reason. 

And I wondered how many times throughout history that was the excuse people used, “just following orders,” for some heinous action, and separating children from their families is an indefensible act of tyranny. No amount of righteous indignation, legal subterfuge, or biblical justification will change that. It is not the way a country founded on freedom and liberty should behave. 

And I worry about what it means for our future, I worry what it means for our present. To what depths have we sunk, and how much lower can go?

“The spirit was freedom and justice
And its keepers seemed generous and kind
Its leaders were supposed to serve the country
But now they won't pay it no mind
Cause the people grew fat and got lazy
Now their vote is a meaningless joke
They babble about law and order
But it's all just an echo of what they've been told”

I watch the news and I wonder if maybe John Kay’s prophecy is coming to pass. Empires rise and fall, Rome, Babylon, Jerusalem, we managed, through sheer American know how and determination to write the Rise and Fall of the American Empire in less than three hundred years. We are such over achievers. It makes me a little melancholy to see it end this way. I hope it isn’t too late.

We "Hire" a New Supervisor.

Time is fluid. Maybe it doesn't exist at all. Maybe it is a fiction, produced by humanity to enslave people when a society reaches a level when slavery is frowned upon. It is certainly not a constant. Once you are stuck in a budget meeting with upper management you understand how time is an instrument of torture. Minutes hammer you, seconds drain your will to live.

"This year has been golden in terms of productivity per unit. We have produced far fewer units, but each one took less time. We are really cranking out the units, just not very many, and nobody is really buying them. However, the units we do sell are increasingly profitable." On and on Geoff  Gordon, from production bragged. "We have reduced our time and cost per unit to almost half of last years expense." Geoff carefully avoided mentioning sales, or marketing, but his glance at Jill spoke volumes. His gaze dripped contempt for the departments that weren't production. Geoff was big, and had beautiful hair, wavy, and thick and always perfect. It made him look taller than the  6' 3" he was, and brilliantly powerful, though he wasn't.

Jill was next.

"While sales have languished a little this year we have made inroads into key markets. Many large retailers looked closely at our product, and we could have closed some very big deals had the quality been a little higher." She smiled at Geoff. At least her lips were curved upward, but it had no warmth. Her white, smooth skin, under her long, dark, red hair glowed with bitter animosity, and her revulsion was obvious.

She droned on about bounce rates, retention, key accounts, and CRM, and it seems there were some charts about per customer purchases, but it is a little foggy. I may have fallen asleep.

Finally, "Plus, many of the key customers cut back on orders, saying we needed to introduce something new to the pipeline. Everybody loved the Bulbous 200 when it was introduced, it was the hottest thing, but that was 3 years ago, and that is a lifetime in this industry." She flashed a mocking grin at the Willy from R and D. It was cold, hateful and shared her complete disregard for the whole department.

I tired to figure out how to play a game of Tetris on my phone without drawing attention to myself. I had been here for 3 days this morning, I was hungry, thirsty and nature called, and things were just getting started. We had 4 more departments to go, then cross examination. We would never get out of here alive.

Willy took the stand next, he was long winded, and constantly used "ummm" as filler. This would never end. "We, ummmm, have new...." he paused, coughed, and started to flail around wildly, clutching his chest, and grunting, cursing, and moaning. I thought he was having a heart attack.

Almost at once he stood, straight, erect, and his eyes glowed, red, horrible, and ominous. In a deep voice that echoed terribly around the room he said, "I am Siritor, flail of the netherworld, monster from the deep, demon from the ancient past, this is a hostile takeover. I now own 51 percent of the stock, and have the board of directors locked in a dungeon where they will support my every decision. Are there any questions?"

"Could I take tomorrow off? I have a dental appointment, I need a filling, and I hate coming to work with face all numb." I asked.

Yes, that will be fine." Siritor, said, grabbing a bagel, dismissing the meeting, and walking towards the CEO's office. Almost as one three department heads said, "hey, we didn't get our turn." Siritor laughed and kept walking.

This might work out ok.

Some Days are Worse Than Others.

Some days start simply enough, some are more complicated, some just don't ever quite take off. Today is somewhere south of uncomfortable, but just north of painful. It is not too hot, but not cool, kind of clammy but not too humid. It was a slightly sub average day right from the start.

Breakfast was lukewarm oatmeal with soggy granola scattered haphazardly across the top. It seemed to spell out DUM if that is possible. My coffee had grounds, and tasted like tepid garbage.

When I got to work Delores from accounting was waiting to demand answers about a trip to Chicago that I didn't take, in fact I've never been there. Fortunately her inquisition was cut short by an explosion in the parking garage.

People were running down the street, being chased by a monster that had escaped from the blackest pit when the gas line ruptured and tore the floor off the sub basement in the structure. Delores was distracted by the harrowing scene outside as the hideous beast threw cars and buses carelessly across the street.

We stood, Delores and I, transfixed by the carnage and destruction. It was awful. Several units of national guard setup on the corner of 4th and Vine and opened fire. Even behind the glass on the fifth floor the sound of gunfire was overwhelming.

It was slowing the beast down, but it looked bleak for our intrepid guardsmen. They stood their ground valiantly as the demon closed on their position, The rate of fire multiplied but it did not look good.

Suddenly a helicopter gunship flew in from the rising sun and unleashed a hail of air to surface missiles blowing the monster into little pieces, completely covering Bob's Cart O' Breakfast Burritos in smoking flesh. It was an amazing sequence of events.

Delores turned to me and waved a folder in front of my face and said, "I know you went to Chicago, you little Sh#ta$$!" And stormed off.

Doctor Dawg walked by and said "Try to do something about our bandwidth, would you? This is just stupidly slow."

Man, will this day never end?

Selecting the proper after dinner wine.

Things got a little tense, and we had to call security.  It all started innocently enough, we were sitting in the kitchen, having some pizza and a few laughs.  It was really relaxed, and people were genuinely enjoying the camaraderie.  There is a special bond that develops between people who work so closely on something for so long, a unique brotherhood.  And, that was evident in the atmosphere after dinner.

We had worked so hard, and for such an extended period, battling monumental odds.  Finally we were able to transport matter across great distances  using kinetic motion energy (we had sent a box of generic brand tissues from the lab, to the bathroom, while not that far, it is well over 100 feet, and that is nothing to sneeze at, even if you have a box of tissues).  In layman's terms, we had "blasted" it from one place to another using a controlled burst of synthetic energy.

What makes this so remarkable, and so difficult is controlling the amount of energy so preciseley, that it doesn't damage the wall, and leaves the tissues intact when they reach the limit of the beam.  It would have really been a mess had it turned the box of tissues into confetti, and the custodian would have been really steamed.

He still hasn't gotten over the "nuclear microwave" hot dog monster who had sprayed everyone in the kitchen, and the kitchen with catsup, mustard and sweet pickle relish, before succumbing to massive myocardial infarction, turns out hot dogs really are bad for you, despite being so delicious.  Just as a cautionary note, don't ask him about the atomic hot dog monster, he might go nuclear.  Sorry, just a little scientist humor there.

Anyway, things were going well, a real celebratory aura, a spirit of accomplishment, and delight.  But, things turned sour quickly.  Once the chardonnay was gone, and they broke out the merlot we knew it was going to go bad.  You know the old saying "merlot then chardonnay, that's ok, chardonnay, then merlot, oh God, no."




There is nothing worse than a bunch of exuberant scientists all hopped up on a little of the red,
slamming down burgundy glasses full of merlot, it is an ugly sight, and it degenerates very quickly until they are nothing but a mob of angry, threatening gang members, in white lab coats.  Fortunately, they can't hold their merlot very well, either, and soon they were all slumped onto the tables sound asleep, wine glasses, and prescription eyeglasses laying everywhere.

Well, tomorrow is going to be a long, bad day around here.  I should get some sleep, and I don't want to be here when the custodian sees this.

Good news, maybe.

Here is something that is very difficult to catalog.  Should this be filed under "Good News," or "Bad News."  It is a little like finding out the Monster Under the Bed ate the Monster From the Closet, while it is true that there is one less monster in the room, now there is a monster under the bed that is able to eat other monsters.  

According to one highly placed source in the shipping department, (who requested anonymity, as he thinks this blog is a huge waste of time) "this is not good news, because I never have any bats bothering me, but, there are always a bunch of spiders creeping around."

It might be time to seriously consider colonizing space.

Unless you're in Antarctica, you may have seen none other than a bat-eating spider. (Yes, that's right folks!) A new study released on March 13 that surveyed scientific journals, blogs and even Flickr accounts for them showed that they're a growing phenomenon across every continent, except for the aforementioned, Antarctica. Fifty-two incidents, to be exact, were found of spiders munching on bats-an animal with few other natural enemies, and researchers are concluding that spiders consume bats more frequently than previously thought.

According to UPI.com, while most incidents involved web-building spiders in the tropics and warmer climates, the scientists also reported an "attempt by a large fishing spider Dolomedes triton (Pisauridae) to kill a bat pup...below a bridge in Indiana."

In other incidences, orb-weaving spiders have been known to block the entrances to bat caves in southeast Asia and the tropics.

Huntsmans and tarantulas -- spiders that hunt for their prey rather than waiting for them to fly into a web -- have been spotted eating small bats that have fallen to the ground.

Spiders (order Araneae) are air-breathing arthropods that have eight legs and chelicerae with fangs that inject venom. They are the largest order of arachnids and rank seventh in total species diversity among all other groups of organisms.^[1] Spiders are found worldwide on every continent except for Antarctica, and have become established in nearly every habitat with the exception of air and sea colonization.