Still bewildered

I recently wrote about Disrespect for my Right to Privacy. So a couple days ago I received yet another email. But this one did not disrespect my privacy. Instead it contained the emails of 122 other individuals.

[I deviate to explain to the technologically challenged that I did not count each email address. I simply cut and pasted into Word processor, and did a CTRL + H, then did a ‘Replace’ on each @ symbol, after which a count comes up. Then I subtracted 2 from the count].

So I could not help but think, “Well, if each of those email addresses were the telephone numbers of those individuals what would I think?” Well I would think it is quite a despicable thing to do. I live on another planet where people in general don’t like their phone numbers being distributed to others en masse.

Like I’m in a perpetual state of shock why it seems ‘ok’ for others to distribute email addresses around, like it is nobody’s business. I mean how would you feel if you (person A) knew that in calling me on the phone, I was likely to take your phone number and whimsically, in another conversation with some other person (person B), take your phone number distribute it and our recorded telephone conversation to B and 121 other people? I don’t think that would go down well.

As I tell all who are close to me ‘Do not distribute my email address without my consent’, I think it is reasonable to request that they do not send me emails with loads of other people’s email addresses. It is the principle of the matter that is important. The principle is privacy. If I accept emails with loads of breaches (or what appears to be breaches) of privacy then I defeat my upholding the same principle.

It would seem ridiculous to say, “Okay, don’t do it to me but you can do it to others and I’ll say nothing.” The principle had no sense of direction – it simply applies.

A slice of heaven

Kurumba pavillion

Disregard of my right to privacy…and my time...by my so-called friends

I’ve been fighting a battle with people I know, some who would feel slighted if I did not consider them friends – for the past 7 years.

This is what it is about:

1. I inform all who know me not to send my email (or other contact details) out to ‘third parties’ without my express consent.
2. Invariably they respond something like, “Goes without saying, I would never do a thing like that!" - in a tone of disapproval at my apparent lack of trust in them.
3. Then invariably they do send out my contact details – especially my email address – to third parties without my consent. They do this by idiotically:
   1. lumping my email address with several others in the ‘To’ or ‘CC’ fields of emails – a sure way to distribute my email address to umpteen people who do not know me.
   2. Clicking the FWD (forward) button on emails forwarded to others, and leaving my email address exposed, like it's everybody's business (and it ain't)!
      
   3. submitting my email address to websites to send me links or messages – like how much intelligence does it take to realise that that is in fact giving my email address to a ‘third party’ without my consent.
4. And then they go something like, "Sorry, I eh very good with IT and computers." - as if to say that is a great explanation

But is this phenomenon about a lack of intelligence or is it more about a lack of memory or consideration for me? I have to wonder. No – many of them put it down to, “I thought it was okay….” or “Sorry I made a mistake.” – as if to say all human mistakes are excusable.

The following conversation occurred recently between me and another – small print is commentary or my thoughts at the time.

Me: Please do not submit my email address to any websites as it appeared with that [named] website. [This had happened and I happened to be in ‘chat’ with the person. I’m being very clear in what I’m saying.] Other: ok, why not? [Bloody hell, do I really have to spend time explaining that I have right to privacy and confidentiality of my contact details and I expect my ‘friends’ to honour all that? Like – no! I don’t have the time. My bloody time in concentrated and I decide how I want to spend it, like now. And the reason I’m writing all this is because I’m fascinated by the stupidity of the most ‘civilised’ species on earth – or so they like to think of themselves. So I give the short answer below.] Me: No questions....just don't Other: what? So how else can I send articles? [Oh golly gee! I’m supposed to explain it. Like I don’t want frigging articles from anywhere where my email address has to be submitted – and oh, you’re meant to send copy and paste and send it in an email to me. Bollocks.] Me: How'd you like if I send your private telephone numbers to some website...it's the same thing. Look, I don't like my contact email going to other sites and that's that. [Like do I have time in a chatroom to go into this? No. Just do as I say, for God’s sakes] Other: ok, well as you wish. But you should keep several e-mail accounts then if you're worried about privacy. [Oh right – so I’m supposed to do as you say in order to receive crap and waste my time. No – ‘why don’t you spend your time respecting my privacy’ – I’m thinking. Sorry, I don’t see why I should spend my time checking email addresses for junk. Respect for my privacy is my so-called friends business too. Why should I compensate for such a lack of consideration? I shouldn’t.] Other: Oh well, I think I'm gonna take in the news. There is a live feed of the summit on. [Well, if I sense some displeasure there then I’m paranoid. Eh?] Me: No. I decide how many email accounts I want to check. I have a right to privacy. [In other words I shall not be compensating for your lack of attention and respect for my privacy] Okay – so you might be thinking that I’m going on too much about this. Read on, then.

I go back to 02:35AM 17th August 2008.

I heard my cell phone ringing. I struggled to answer it. It is dark. I'd been jolted out of my deep slumber. I was clueless at the time to what time it was. I answered the phone: Other: "Aye, how yuh going". Me: "Ah sleepin” Other: "Oh gord...ah sorry.. ah only see yuh online so ah press dee button....ah eh watch dee time...sorry ah gorn". [I've got Skype and it's on my cellphone - so I appear online all the time. It doesn't do the auto 'away' feature like in the usual PC version.] Me: "Alright”

I get back to sleep in a few minutes, luckily. But in those few minutes - I'm thinking "Yet another blasted Trinidadian...demonstrating the same mindlessness typical of its people". No I wasn’t particularly angry whilst thinking that - more in a state of...well it's a difficult one to find words for...I guess a mixture of expectation, confusion, disappointment, puzzlement, disgust for the human condition.

Actually the caller was the same person in the conversation at the start of this blog, and the person is used to changes of time zones and international travel. So one could expect that if making a call to anyone in another country that the time zone is checked. The time zone is actually displayed after my screenname on Skype.

‘White Lies’ – just amazing

Recently I discovered ‘White Lies’ – the group. Well when I heard ‘To lose my life’ a few days ago, I thought to myself “Hey, Bowie is back!”. So it wasn’t David Bowie, but so what? These guys are just brilliant.

I mean I can’t get their songs outta my head! Like I’m having a pretty prolonged enjoyable hallucination.

So I thought I’d spread the joy.

	The lyrics on both these music-vids are thought provoking
		Lyrics
		Lyrics – see discussion here

What’s a psychiatrist?

Recently I was in the company of a colleague who is a psychiatrist (aka shrink).

We were walking into a large supermarket. He’s saying hello to the chap who’s greeting customers. The conversation goes as follows:

Chappy: So what if you don’t mind I ask do you do?

Shrink: I’m a forensic psychiatrist – which is different from a psychologist. Basically I lock up the criminally insane and provide treatment for them.

Chappy: You know…[hesitating a bit]..you know what I thought you were?

Shrink: No, tell me.

Chappy: I thought you were a doctor. You just have that look about you.

Shrink: Well a psychiatrist is a medical doctor.

Chappy: Oh so you mean you’ve studied for your doctorate and all that.

Shrink: I’m a doctor like any other medical doctor.

Chappy: Orh..r..i….g…...h…..t [the sort of spread out ‘right’ that you get from the English when they don’t know WTF is going on].

Well actually: the non-verbal context of this was that although my shrink colleague took the effort to differentiate himself from being a psychologist, he could not have expected to be differentiated from being a doctor. It still didn’t sink when he told the chappy that he was a medical doctor.

This is the way England is. People appear to have lots of intelligence but what they really have is a lot of ‘lip’. Ooooh…now I’m extrapolating too much from one incident. No – it was an extrapolation from lots of incidents; this is just one of them. Come on – I think I can expect any person of average intellect to know that a psychiatrist is a medical doctor.

If you don’t get the point – leave it alone and move on.

Judge jailed for telling a lie.

This is an amazing story! STOP EVERYTHING: Don't go to the toilet..don't walk that dog...don't go to the grocery...don't phone that friend!

This is a tragic tale of how a judge of international repute ends up in jail - for attempting to tell a little fib.

"Marcus Einfeld, the judge in question, was certainly of high enough degree - none higher. Queens Counsel since 1977, Australian Living Treasure 1997, United Nations Peace Award 2002, the list goes on. He retired a few years ago but has continually been brought back to judge important cases about refugees because the Australian legal system can't do without his experience and prestige."

Now he's doing time (2 years) in the slammer!

Click this now: The little white lie that grew

For those who wish to listen the podcast is here.

But he is defiant - stating that he wasn't dishonest that he just made a mistake.

See: Australian Telegraph 2009-03-23 And see: The Sydney Morning Herald 2009-03-28 where he asks for cell door to be left open, a psychologist and a masseuse!

What happens when it's better than free

Well tonight I had an interesting experience. I go into the local supermarket around 20:45. There's a worker in uniform at the entrance offering me free bread. It comes with a coupon that I use at the cashier to get it for FREE.

So I say thank you very much and with some glee take the bread and coupon. I get to the cashier (or check-out, or whatever you call it - goddamit). So like I check my bill after paying, as I always do. I discover that I actually got the bread at better than FREE!!

How's that you're thinking? Right - well the computer scanned it in at 10p - and I get 25p credit with the coupon. So - that means they paid me 15p for taking the bread!!

A few seconds later I'm walking out of the supermarket and I spot the same worker flogging two other pieces of bread to two youths, who are looking indecisive. So I show them my bill and say "They paid me 15p to take the bread...it's a good deal you can't lose". To which they respond by looking at me as if I'm a nutter. Well, I couldn't care a monkey's as they in England - I like being paid to take away good stuff.

Yup - It's a good loaf of granary bread! No tricks. No catches. Tastes good.

Now you want to know what supermarket is this. Well - no other than a Wal-mart store. Yup - that'll be ASDA - my favourite supermarket.

Really - I love the place. All the workers there are sooooh polite - I mean like sometimes I'm pinching myself and thinking 'Is this England...is this England?'. I go to ASDA regularly for meals, shopping, or just for a jaunt - and really I couldn't care less about who thinks that I haven't got better things to do with my time. I like good service and I've always got it from ASDA. I leave their shop, nearly always thinking to myself 'I've got a good deal'.

Well today I got a small but much better deal than I expected!

Macaroni and cheese

No - this ain't a recipe for it. This is about the service surrounding it. It’s a long one. I’ve taken several weeks drafting this (working on average a few minutes each week). It is such a difficult story that I could not put it down all at once. I really had to do it a bit at a time.

The story

I go to a local supermarket fairly regularly with my daughter for a meal. Their cafeteria is not the best but we both like the macaroni and cheese they serve there. BTW I'm qualified in business and my teenage daughter is studying business. Hold on. The story will come. Just relax.

So on this occasion (Saturday 2008-11-15), we go to the counter and work out rather quickly that she'll have the macaroni and cheese and I'll have the fish and chips. Normally M&C would go with other things like vegetables and chips, as full meal. But we don't want full M&C so I ask a tall female attendant behind the counter "How much is the M&C?". Why would I ask this? Because there is no sign above the food counter where the prices are normally displayed. The female person responds in English in what sounds like a German accent, "You'll have to look at the board for that" - pointing me to a large board of prices to my left at about an 8 o'clock position, roughly 5 metres away, at about 40 degrees elevation.

So I read the board diligently. I cannot see M&C priced on it. I look back at the female attendant and say "I'm sorry I don't see the price on it, can you help". She's looking away at the board and rocking with arms folding. Rocking? Yeah - like when you partially flex your knee and push on it intermittently. You know – its like she’s tapping to Katy Perry’s

Hot n’ Cold or some crap.

She repeats that the price is “there” – with this strange downward flick of the wrist while keeping index finger extended. I look again over ‘there’. By now probably 60 seconds has elapsed, which you could imagine felt like an eternity. So I look back to her and say, "I'm sorry it isn't there...in any case I only want to know what it would cost if you could serve us the M&C on it's own." She then tells me that the M&C comes with chips and peas etc. So I repeat myself, "I want to know the price of the M&C on its own". She looks at me blankly and repeats something about peas and chips. By now probably 2 min have gone.

So I politely and firmly say to her, "You're clearly not understanding my English, I'd be grateful if you could find someone else to assist." She looks displeased and goes off to find the cashier who is about 5 metres to her left. The female cashier (i.e. AttNo2) arrives within seconds.

Me: "I hope you speak English because I was unable to communicate well enough with the person to your left, who was not understanding my English".

AttNo2 says "Yes I do, how can I help?"

Me, "I'm trying to find out the price of the M&C on its own"

AttNo2: "Normally it is served as a meal and that costs £4.49, but I can do it for you for £2.00 on its own."

Me: "Thanks, that is a what I was trying to find out"

AttNo1: Now appears visibly disturbed...utters something and storms off.

Me: [To AttNo2] “That was rude of her, I'd like to speak to a manager of this facility.”

I give him the above story, and explain to him that AttNo1 was rude and lacked basic linguistic competence in English, to inform me of the price of M&C on its own.

Manager: “To be fair she only recently started and probably felt upset by the way you pointed out her lack of English.”

Me: “It matters not. She was clearly in difficulty and did not seek help. I had to tell her to seek help and when she returned her response was rude.” [And BTW how does he know anything about the ‘way’ I might have pointed our her lack of linguistic competence. Was he there? No. Was he within earshot? No. Could it be an assumption of some kind, based on the fact that I was confronting his bullshit…oooh and confrontation is not allowed in England?]

Manager: “Well all I can say is that she was new...”

Me: “Are you trying to defend your staff”

Manager: “Yes! I have to defend my staff!”

Me: “I'm not happy with you and I'll speak to your superior...you're defending staff in poor customer service.”

He goes off. You might think that that was the end of it. No.

I remain there determined to get my M&C at the £2.00. So a third attendant - a male - AttNo3.

So I go through the same thing again with him as with German sounding female. This male sounds Italian and he's go the same problem understanding "..on its own". So, I gesticulate and use simple words to communicate that I want M&C on its own. [Well as I’m writing this I’m now in a state of doubt – which is silly really – as to whether ‘on it’s own’ is too complicated English]

AttNo3: “I'll ask my boss” (i.e. the same Manager who's defending his staff).

Me: “Thank you.”

AttNo3: “I can't serve it to you like that.”

Me: “Why?”

AttNo3: “Because my boss says I can't.”

Me: “I'm confused. The cashier (me pointing in her direction i.e. AttNo2) just said we could have it for £2.00.

AttNo3: “Well I can't serve it to you because the boss said so.”

So what happened next? You’d think I might give up. Not me. I then complain outside and ask speak to a floor manager, to be third by AttNo4 that, “They’re all in a meeting” – and of course not sure when they’ll be out. Amazing isn’t it – this is England for you – meetings don’t generally have a start and end time. And…and..this is a Saturday so the meeting could go on forever – eh?

AttnNo4 explained to me that the canteen is not really run by them, but by a contractor. Like now I’m jumping for joy – that really helps me – huh? This is how she explains it “I’m not trying to be funny or to say that what you experienced wasn’t bad…..” Ok, you guess the next word……. Yup that famous “but” – this is the way the English talk utter crap. Ooooh now I’m racist for referring to ‘the English’. Gimme a break. That’s my perception of them and that is them culturally.  I don’t want to hear about bloody ‘but’. Crap service is crap services. I’ve experienced it and that’s that. I don’t expend so much time and effort in your bloody shop for the fun of it. I happen to have better things to do. So why did I spend so much time on it? Two reasons: 1) My daughter is a business student – so it was for her to experience what poor customer service is about. 2) I happen to like the cafe I have an interest in getting rid of wanking staff.

You’d think I would give up. I give them half an hour while I do some shopping. After that the meeting is not over. Surprise surprise. So I give a description of my complaint to the AttNo4. She taps in the stuff on screen and promises me a copy, after taking my address and phone number etc. Do I get a phone call? Your guess.

What happened next? I get a dumb letter in the post apologising for what happened and a card bearing £5 credit.

So what have I learned. Well first of all this was not in a Wal-Mart store (such as ASDA here in the UK). Nope Wal-Mart has much more respect for customers. They really believe and understand that the only reason they are in business is for the customer. No – I’m not one of those ‘the-customer-is-always-right’ sort of people, nor is Wal-Mart. Well what I learned more about is the big rip-off Britain. Basically the British and particularly the English don’t like to complain – relative to American folk (from what I’ve picked up). So English business enterprises get away with ‘murder’ – and they like it so. I am so thankful that Wal-Mart is here in the UK. I’ve never been treated with such contempt as above.

Bending the rules

This is an exploration of how people interact with rules and regulations. It is largely based on personal observations. Therefore it is subject to all the biases and weaknesses that go with personal observations of the world.

What kinds of rules are there?

1. Law (Primary, secondary, delegated legislation, legal regulations).
2. Quasi-legal regulations (i.e. codes of conduct and practice that do not have statutory force but have the backing of statute).
3. Policy (i.e. written policy agreed and imposed by employers for example).
4. Other – a diffused set of rules that are written.

I do not go into moral rules, because these are hardly ever written or directly enforceable.

What motivates me to write about this?

I find in my worldly interactions that people often know what the rules are or they can find them – yet they choose to bend the rules to suit their own needs. This causes differences of opinion between me and others on a fairly regular basis.

What do I mean by bending of the rules?

I mean holding a personal interpretation of the rules that ends up (from my perspective) at much distance from what the rules were meant to achieve. Bending sometimes goes so far that it actually breaks the rules.

How (or why) do people effect the bending of the rules?

None of the categories below have sharp boundaries.

1. Appeal to the generality of conduct i.e. everybody else does it ‘so what’s the problem’.
2. Herd effects – everybody gets away with it, so I just do as others do. 
3. Tradition – i.e. ‘we now what the policy says but this is how we’ve always done it – and no one has ever raised a concern – and by implication ‘who are you to raise a concern now?’
4. Personal justification – i.e. ‘It’s rubbish the way the system is set up. The rules are stupid. I don’t agree with it. It is morally wrong and totally ridiculous so I’ll do as I think best’.
5. Minimisation – the rule or regulation is reduced in importance i.e. ‘Nothing much will come of it if you do it outside of the rules.
6. Disparagement of authority - ‘These people at the top are clueless paper pushers; what could they know of things as they really are.’
7. Lack of enforcement – if there is not enforcement of a rule, it is as good as no rule.
8. Pressure to act – from others or cumulative pressure from systems can cause others to bend the rules.
9. Failure of systems of justice – this is not necessarily about legal matters. Justice is a concept that permeates everyday life.
10. Not knowing the rules – but thinking that some one else who mentioned them knew the rules (when they didn’t).

….to be continued….I’m thinking more about this.

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling