"I've never been asked to be a juror - I must be on a list somewhere of Undesirable People.

I'd like to be asked, just so I can decline with completely uncalled for rudeness and get put on the list of Undesirable People."
- Me, on Eroswing's blog, four days ago.


They want me for jury service. A official pink letter dropped through the door informing me of the fact.

In one paragraph they assure me it's my civil duty and very important. In the next they threaten to fine me GBP1000 if I don't respond.

So, does anyone have any ideas for how I can tell them to go fuck themselves?

That film night/party/fund-raiser last night - with lots of food and
drink. And that jeans size I went down last week.

Yes, I'm back to normal. And there's four different kinds of cheese in
the fridge that no one else seemed to want.

With luck, one of them will give me food poisoning again so I can go
back down a size.


I'd like to be the first to posit a Michael Jackson/Princess Diana/9-11 conspiracy theory.

Diana was assassinated by Mossad, which is a front for MI5, under instructions from the British royal family who are shapeshifting alien lizards, to ensure the next leader of the Bilderberg group wouldn't be contaminated with popstar DNA because...Diana was carrying Jackson's secret love child.

The twin towers were destroyed by mistake when an agent was instructed to prevent completion of the Lord of the Rings movies, which contained coded hints about the Diana conspiracy. He was ordered to stop The Two Towers and, well, got confused.

Jackson, piecing the truth together from clues provided by his worldwide network of boy-spies - codenamed "special young friends" - was about to reveal the truth in his comeback album, but the Illuminati kidnapped him in one of their flying saucers, leaving behind a false body - a waxwork of Latoya Jackson.

You know more theories are on the way.



Neither do I.

Filmic


On Saturday I'm going to a film evening. There will be food, drink, conversation, and almost certainly a film.

Two weeks ago it was agreed to hold a small fundraising event. The host-to-be of the event approached me after the meeting.

Host: So what do I need for a DVD? Do I need a DVD for that?

Kap: Um. Well you'll need a DVD player. Have you got one of those?

Host: No. Do you?

Kap: I do have a spare one but I'm not sure it still works. But comrade X has a small portable player, comrades Y and Z have one, and I think comrade Q could lend us his.

Host: Could you ask them to borrow theirs then?

Kap: They'll be coming to the evening and they're all over there, so it might be better to ask one of them to bring their player with them.

Host: Oh okay then. If you say so. Can you sort that out?

Kap: [Sigh]. I suppose so. Now, you'll need a SCART lead.

Host: Ah, right. What's that?

Kap: It's a thick black cable, about half a metre long, with large rectangular plugs on either end. It connects the DVD player to the television.

Host: Oh. I don't think I've got one of those.

Kap: Whoever brings their DVD player should also bring their SCART lead.

Host: Can you sort that out?

Kap: Alright. Now, how large is your television?

Host: Um. Well. I don't know.

Kap: Is it large enough for everyone here to watch a film on?

Host: I don't know. Should we ask if anyone's got a big TV we can use?

Kap: That might be a bit difficult. Now, you'll need a place to plug in both the TV and the DVD player - do you have enough power points?

Host: Power points?

Kap: Electricity sockets in the wall.

Host: Oh, right. Probably.

Kap: Well if you don't you'll need a splitter with an extension cable.

Host: A what?


We eventually sorted out who would bring the DVD player and SCART lead, and the host said she'd check her power points.

One week later, a small leaflet was produced and distributed, just to remind us of the location and date of the film showing. The location and date were both wrong, so the next week we got a revised leaflet.

This means there are two otherwise identical sets of leaflets floating around, with different information. I'm 95% sure the one in my pocket is one with the correct information.

Tonight, after another meeting, the host did a little final checking with me.

Host: Are we all set? You're bringing the DVD?

Kap: No, comrade Q's bringing the DVD player, and the SCART lead.

Host: Oh okay then.

Kap: And you're sure you have enough power points?

Host: Power points? Oh, oh yes. I do.

Kap: Good, we're all set then.

Host: Just one thing. Who's bringing the DVD?

Kap: [Blinks]. The player?

Host: No, the DVD.

Kap: You mean you don't have the disc?

Host: ?

Kap: The movie. The disc with the film on it.

Host: Um, well no. Who's bringing that?


I've been told not to worry, that a very capable young lady is sorting everything out - which means when something fucks up on the night, just for once I won't be blamed. Though I probably will be anyway.

Subtlety is good.



Yes, We Cam


My phone gets dropped into a bucket of water, together with my MP3 player. The I lose a memory stick and the laptop gets a virus. Cue familiar sinking feeling.

I get a new phone and a new memory stick and reinstall windows - which I've now got down to a painless half-hour process after lots of tinkering and practice.

I plug in my webcam and the network stops working. The network refuses to start working again no matter what I do, and then the webcam stops working. More familiar sinking feeling.

So I reinstall windows, set up the network, find it works perfectly...and try plugging in the webcam again. The network stops working, won't start again...and the webcam stops working too.

Right. So my network has suddenly become fatally allergic to my webcam. So I reinstall windows again, get the network working...and go out and buy a new webcam - which turns out to give a picture slightly worse than CCTV, but doesn't crash the network.

Oh hang on, yes it does.

It so happens that a friend has a super-duper digital camera which they've never used since buying it two years ago, so I ask to borrow it. After hunting down the drivers it works...but two years in a kitchen draw have left it without the ability to see yellow. So it sees everything in sharp, high resolution shades of purple.

Then I notice while checking something else that my system partition is formatted to FAT16. Now, FAT16 is "16 Bit File Allocation Table", and for the last twenty years has been used only on some plug-in memory devices. I have no idea how my C drive got formatted that way, and I wouldn't know how to do it again. But...some functions of networking and external devices like webcams don't work with it.

My C drive is now formatted to NTFS (and one day I might find out for sure what that stands for), the network's fine, my new phone is full of useless functions that I have to scroll through, the MP3 player is dead forever, the new memory stick is now permanently attached to my keyring...and I've got two deeply crap spare webcams.

Seven years ago I spent a week exprimenting with animated gifs.

How many email addresses have you got? I've got nine currently active. Some of them seemed good ideas at the time.

Facepalm Friday (19/06/09)


This edition of Facepalm Friday is a selection of things said personally to me over recent weeks.

A slow running clock is occasionally right, and the biggest moron in the world occasionally makes a good point.

The other side of the coin is that sometimes someone who really really ought to know better makes a damn fool of themselves, and for me, it's a lot more shocking when that happens.

"If you think nothing bad will happen to you, nothing will."
- Comrade 1


Bureaucrats are professionally dumb, in the same way that librarians are professionally quiet.

They may be quite smart people, but their job consists of asking dumb questions, translating the dumb answers into dumb cliches, filling out dumb forms that exist for dumb reasons, and trying to make the whole dumb system work while simultaneously pretending it isn't dumb and works already.

So sometimes they forget to switch off the autopilot.

"So you're looking for jobs abroad. Are you prepared to travel to other countries?"
- My jobsearch advisor


People ask me, "Kapitano, what is bullshit?", and I tell them, "Bullshit is saying things that don't mean anything, as though they're profound and important."

Howard Beale had a different definition, you may remember.

"The difference between God and the devil is, the devil gives you happiness, but God gives you joy."
- A mormon who tried to recruit me today


Mormons in recruiting mode are all identical. They're young, superficially friendly, and dressed in sharp office clothes that are almost painfully clean.

They're well scrubbed and trimmed themselves, with interchangeable haircuts and the kind of blank-faced politeness you get from teller machines and psychopaths. Think "Stepford Evangelicals". Oh, and they always travel in pairs.

"Marijuana isn't like God because marijuana takes away your agency."
- The other mormon


And finally, something I don't know how to adequately introduce.

"If you're a gay man, and you like looking at two men together, does that mean you like looking at two women together too?"
- Comrade 2


Facepalm!




Mother's a beta tester for Windows 7. Having spent an half an hour just figuring out how to set up the screen icons, I can reveal that it combines the annoying graphics of Vista with the annoying misorganisation of Vista and the annoying unconfigurability of bloody Vista.

It also takes up 7.31GB, and seems designed around the notion that the most important thing computers do is receive streamed video. This from the company that's trying to oust Google five years too late, with an inferior search engine.

Typical Microsoft.


I should get food poisoning more often. I've gone down a jeans size.

The Devil in Me


I'm never busier than when I'm unemployed, never happier than when figuring out how to solve a problem...and I never watch so much crap on TV than when I'm ill.

I've seen a lot of crap this last week. Currently I'm ploughing through both seasons of The Collector. The plot is that the devil buys people's souls for ten years of whatever they want, after which he takes them to hell. The devil gives them what they want by shifting their misfortune onto someone close to them, but they can evade hell if they undo this damage before the contract ends.

He employs a few damned people to collect contract-signers for him and one, our hero, decides to help those who've signed the contract gain "redemption" this way. The devil lets him do it because he likes playing games.

There's exactly one interesting thing about this setup - the hero fails about half the time. There's subplots about a cocaine addict prostitute the hero helps, a journalist who's after him and her creepy autistic son - who may or may not be the angel Gabriel - but the interesting (to me) thing about The Collector is that you can't be sure the bad guy - the ultimate bad guy - will be defeated at the end of the hour.

So that's what I do when I'm ill. I catch up on five year old trash TV culture, and wind up enjoying it probably for the wrong reasons.

UPDATE:

Having now seen all the first two seasons, I've one or two more thoughts.

Eroswings asked how the story ends. The answers are:
(1) Only the first two of the three seasons are available to me on TVOD, so I don't know how it ends, and
(2) There might be more seasons in the pipeline after season three, so no one knows how it might end.

However, from what I've seen, the second season doesn't so much reach a conclusion as...dissolve. The journalist gets taken to hell, her sister replaces her as the third lead before disappearing offscreen, and the angelic/autistic son become simultaneously all-seeing and irrelevant.

The last three episodes are, in order:
* A mish-mash of some of the sillier Jack-the-Ripper theories - The lodger, Walter Sickert, and the prostitute killing other prostitutes.
* A time-travel predestination paradox story about the holocaust
* A flashback to the collector's first case - in which we learn that it's forgivable to kill defenceless women if it's to save your soul, but not to touch up children, apparently.

So we don't get any conclusions or progression towards resolutions - we get the series breaking up into sidelines. Oh, and we get the hero's pining after his lost love examined and revisited long beyond the point of tedium.

One thing to notice in the credits list is that nearly all the names are Hungarian. Evidently porn wasn't the only thing to come cheaply out of Eastern Europe in the zeros - we got film crews, nonspeaking extras and rustic medieval settings too.

There are a few recurring themes. Addiction and relapse (to drugs, power, alcohol), single motherhood (the journalist and several one-episode characters), and miracle disease cures (AIDS, cancer, the plague). I'm not sure these constitute an arc - more a series of tropes.

The biggest theme of all is of course that of the Monkey's Paw - that the devil gives you exactly what you ask for, in ways that negate what you hoped for. A comic-book fan wishes for superpowers, which wind up killing the people he's trying to save. A woman wishes to prove that she's as good as any man, and so becomes a series of men. A UFO-watcher gets proof that aliens exist, when he goes to hell and meets alien souls.

I think the thing which appealed to me - which kept me watching in spite of the dodgy dialogue and hammy acting - was the way the show kept unflinchingly to it's premises. There's no deus ex machina (literal or figurative), and no sudden reversals in the final five minutes that magically make everything all right.

God is invisible or absent, unable or unwilling to make the world less horrible. The devil always tells the absolute truth - but never the complete truth. There's no easy distinction between good and bad people. The rules are arbitrary and unfair but unbreakable - irrespective of what may be just.

A serial killer gets off scot-free by following the rules of his satanic contract to the letter, a career criminal similarly avoids hell, and a yogi sees his followers suicide when they take his philosophy of peace literally.

Anyway, I've no wish to see any of it again, but I'm glad to have been laid up in bed long enough to see it once. Now can anyone explain to me why all the American sci-fi/fantasy I've enjoyed for the last decade...has actually been Canadian?

Kapitano Has Sex


I've had some lousy shags in my time, and I've been in some absurd situations. And oddly enough the two tend to coincide.

Last night I logged onto a certain friendship/dating/shagging site I sometimes use, just to check email. And found myself chatting on IM with a local guy who'd liked my profile and wanted to "meet up". I saved the conversation so here's a few highlights of his chatup technique:

  • "hey buddy how you doing. i LOVe sucking on big balls."

  • "i would love to have you cum in me or my mouth. just have you work my nipples while i suck you off"

  • "you let yourself in and i can suck you off no strings cum in my mouth and go"

  • "i love to suck a guy off and work tits""

  • "love big balls to suck


  • Clear, direct, no BS - what more could you want from meaningless sex? He's a great felateur, I'm lazy, he's desperate, I'm desperate too easygoing.

    He wanted me to drive out there and then, I said I didn't have a car, he said he'd pay for a taxi, I said thanks but I was tired so could we do it tomorrow...he said okay.

    So the next day (today) we exchange a series of text messages to the repeated effect of...

    Him: You coming today?
    Me: Sounds good. What's a good time for you, and by the way where exactly do you live?
    Him: Anytime.

    Him: When are you coming?
    Me: Is 7pm okay? Where are you?
    Him: Anytime is good.

    Him: You going to come today?
    Me: Be there at 7 - as soon as I know where to be.
    Him: Great.


    Eventually I got him to tell me where his home was - he sent the postcode, and I got the street from Google Maps. A few more texts, and I had the house number too. It was ten miles away - thirty minutes by car, or three hours on foot.

    I called a taxi, texted to say I was on my way, and got the response "OMG your in a taxi?! Don't u have a car? I only want suck n go!". Sigh.

    The taxi driver was a helpful, friendly Indian guy - who didn't know the area we were going to. I'd brought along a map, and he navigated with it perched on the steering wheel. Eventually, between us we figured out how to work his swanky new GPS gadget too.

    Meanwhile, every five minutes or less my partner in erotic rondezvous texted to ask me where I was and what I was doing...and whether I'd got the last text asking me. He also had the brainwave of kneeling blindfolded with mouth open on the floor, waiting for me to silently arrive. Um, okay.

    I was just starting to get a bad feeling about the whole thing, when the driver found the street...and charged me 175% of the estimated fare. And offered to stick around with the engine running and the meter ticking in case I found we'd come to the wrong place. I politely declined.

    I found the house, went in, and had sex with the big red faced man in front of the television. The whole thing lasted less than five minutes before he looked up and said in a squeaky, apologetic voice, "I'm gonna cum". And proceeded to do so.

    He'd completely forgotten his promise to reimburse my fare, in any case had no cash, and wanted to me to leave as quickly as possible. He didn't even want to shake hands.

    So, unwilling to spend another GBP20, I started walking home - consoling myself with a box of overcooked chips from a kebab shop. There was a bus stop, with a timetable announcing that I'd just missed the last daytime bus, and the night service would start in an hour - and end two hours after that.

    After ninety minutes trudging I did catch a bus to save my aching feet.

    So there you have it. My sexual appetite not so much quenched as squashed. And another answer to the eternal question, "What could possibly go wrong?"

    Facepalm Friday (29/05/09)


    Welcome to a new feature on Le Blogge Kapitaneau, one which may or may not last beyond the first installment: Facepalm Friday.

    This is simply where I post five of the stupidest things I've read on the net recently. Conspiracy nuts, psychocons, hatepreachers, famous people inadvisedly sounding off, and ordinary dumb folk with extraordinarily dumb opinions.

    1) Why do politicians think a small amount of power turns them into experts? Why do pop stars think a hit single turns them into opinion formers? And why do sports commentators get addicted to the microphone?

    David Icke tried to save the planet from pollution - before trying to save it from shapeshifting alien lizards. Keith Olbermann was the voice of baseball for years, before becoming the voice of outraged liberals, sir. And Reggie White thought bobbing and weaving was the way to score a goal off the field.

    "I'm offended that homosexuals will say that homosexuals deserve rights. Any man in America deserves rights, but homosexuals are trying to compare their plight with the plight of black men or black people. In the process of history, homosexuals have never been castrated, millions of them never died. Homosexuality is a decision."
    - Reggie White (Footballer and Commentator)


    2) Movie critics have the same delusion.

    "Hollywood has declared war on America...This is the only way the terrorists know they can win. This is the only way Hollywood knows America can lose. And so they have joined forces."
    "Dirty Harry" (Film reviewer)


    3) There are those who reject evolutionary theory without understanding it, but there are also those who accept it without understanding it.

    "Men are naturally more altruistic than women, period! It's evolutionary."
    - UnderseaCaveman (on youtube)


    4) Glurge! Bigotry makes you sick. So they coat it with so much sugar they think you won't notice. But that much sugar makes you sick anyway.

    "A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?"

    "Because I'm a woman," she told him.

    "I don't understand," he said.

    His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will.""

    - Inspiring story on PositiveThoughts.com, about "Why Do Women Cry?"


    5) Glenn Beck wants us to know what he thinks - about everything. He does standup comedy, shockjock radio, shockjock TV, interviews, columns and books, just so we can know all his opinions. So it's no surprise the nonstop twitterer is on Twitter too.

    "I like fish"

    "I’ve been thinking about it more, so I wanted to clarify. I don’t LOVE fish, I just like it."

    "we're all going to die. Soon."
    - Glenn Beck on Twitter


    Facepalm!



    100 Things about Kapitano, Part 5: Things I Like, but Shouldn't


    21) Crappy Sci-Fi Serials

    Earth: Final Conflict. Most shows have a shaky first season, then get better, then get stale and cancelled. This one started off smart, intriguing and even believable...then got a new lead, new writers, and new budget for the second season, and became the biggest pile of aimless dren ever to lose its entire fanbase.

    Enterprise. Trekkies are a loyal bunch, but even they (we, cough) gave up on this one. A thuggish captain leading a forgettable crew through a galaxy composed entirely of hostile, fanatical foreigners alien species.

    Even when it tried to be intelligent and right on - with the deeply hamfisted AIDS allegory - it shot itself royally in the foot by portraying metaphorical AIDS victims as metaphorical gay sex fiends who brought it upon themselves.

    Andromeda. Imagine Firefly, and subtract everything that made Firefly worth watching. The same cast of strong leader (Hunt/Malcom), kickboxing pseudo-girlfriend (Rommie/Zoe), psychopathic strongman (Tyr/Jayne), wimpy geek (Haper/Hoban) and mysterious outsider (Trance/Book), but with no clear plot, no deep characterisation, dialogue that only thinks it's smart and snappy and the the same politics of liberal imperialism that blight nearly all TV sci-fi from Buck Rogers to Babylon 5.


    22) Cheesy pseudo-cyberpunk synthpop bands

    S.P.O.C.K sing about Star Trek. They've got titles like "Mr Spock's Brain", "Charlie X" and "Never Trust a Klingon", which features lyrics like:

    "With their cloaking device they remain invisible
    until the time has come
    To appear right ahead of us
    and obliterate everyone"


    23) "Straight" men.

    Men who are completely and utterly heterosexual...but have gay sex because "My girlfriend doesn't understand me" or "I just want to try it for a laugh". Men who feel it's really important to tell you they're thinking about women while you twist their nipples. Men who's idea of plausible deniability is the sexual equivalent of "The dog ate my homework".

    Men who are not supposed to say things like this;

  • "I thought we could try a sixty nine."
  • In response to "Do you want me to suck your cock instead?" - "No thanks, I'm good here."
  • "Do you want to fuck my mouth?"
  • "That's good. Harder."
  • "Wank hard. It turns me on."


  • 24) Incredibly Stupid People on the Internet

    This fellow reckons he's got a cure for all psychiatric disorders, that also eliminates "birth trauma" and resets dislocated joints. And it is...to slap someone's head so hard they lose consciousness.

    Schemefighter is a youtube poster with a political theory. See if you can figure out what it is from these quotes.

  • "You fascist liberals are in cahoots with big business like Webster dictionary."
  • "You fascist liberals fought against civil rights."
  • "The Liberals used terrorism, such as firebombing, slashing tires, death threats, like they did against the soldiers at Berkeley, or to try to steal elections, or to advance their big Brother global warming tax agenda."
  • "Bush is a watered down conservative, McCain even more so."
  • "You fascist liberals are cleverly disguised anti-Semites."
  • "You fascist liberals are neo-Nazis."


  • 25) Porn with Faintly Disturbing Titles

    Straight porn tend to be, well, straight to the point.

  • She's Got Big Boobs
  • Psycho Bitches from Hell
  • This Ain't the Partridge Family
  • Scent of Mom
  • Phatty Girls
  • I Fucked my Daughter's Best Friend 3
  • Lesbian Psycho Roommates
  • Revenge of a Motorcycle Mama
  • Anal Apocalypse
  • Mixed Meat Sandwich
  • Annie Sprinkle the Original Squirter
  • I Spit on Your Corpse
  • Super Slurpy
  • Girls Who Love Big White Cocks 3
  • Captain Lust and the Pirate Woman
  • Wadds of Johnny
  • Soft Places
  • English Spanking Classic (Vol 29)


  • Gay stuff is slightly wittier:

  • Money For Nuttin'
  • Go Fuck Yourself
  • Anal Abyss
  • Pissing Around
  • Piss Police
  • My Dad Loves Black Cock (Vol 3)
  • Monsterballs
  • Breed My Raw Hole
  • Sucking Freakin' Huge Monster Cocks
  • Bro-Mancing the Bone
  • The Gay Team
  • Chateau d'Lust


  • But titlewise, bi is best:

  • Blow Bi Blow
  • Wanna Fuck My Wife Gotta Fuck Me Too
  • Bi Pole Her (vol 4)
  • Best Bi Far
  • Down Bi Law
  • Bi Bi Love 2
  • Fine Bi Me 2
  • Bi N Sell
  • Bi Accident 3
  • Bi Racial
  • Good Bi Lover
  • Bi The Way 3
  • Bi Bi American Pie (vol 16)
  • The Bi Linguist


  • ...and my particular favourite:

  • Bi Now, Gay Later


  • 54321


    Over the last two days I've watched thirteen episodes of Countdown with Keith Olbermann1. Seven of them consecutive. And I've picked up a few things along the way, about American politics. So if the subject doesn't excite you in hidden places, skip.

  • Ann Coulter's reflexive contrarianism is now so boring, even those who reflexively rebut her...can't be bothered any more.

  • Sean Hannity is on similar autopilot.

  • Rush Limbaugh is really, really needy. He's got nothing to say anymore beyond "There's no problem" (about the environment, the economy, the war and the Republican party) and "I was right" (about everything) - but is desperate for unquestioning disciples.

  • Micheal Steele (Republican National Committee Chair) is a loose cannon. He's one of those people who has half an idea and rushes to tell the press, before thinking it through, or discussing it with his own people.

  • Newt Gingrich has become the same but with brains.

  • Dick Cheney is two people. Cheney1 controlled Bush like a ventriloquist, juggled a dozen agencies to get the culture he wanted, and is a very smart, subtle operator. Cheny2 is a very stupid, unsubtle operator. He goes on TV, telling the world just what he did, which laws he broke, which principles he violated...and how he was morally right to do it. But not why.

  • The CIA can't even keep accurate records of which lies they told to who and when.

  • The Democrats are spineless. They talk a good fight about liberty and justice, but you've only got to suggest a vague potential threat to "national security", and they do exactly what you want.

  • The Republicans are split between the lunatics (Texas seccionists, teabaggers, those who think the Democrats are "socialists") and reformers (like Colin Powell(!)) who think two viable parties is kind of the minimum for a functioning democracy.

  • Sarah Palin really does think she could be president in 2012, and she's pissing off her own core support campaigning for it now - neglecting her real job and being a prima donna.

  • Bill O'Reilly is the Worst Person in the World.

  • Omaba is...difficult to get a handle on.


  • Oh, there's one other thing. It's often said that the best political commentators are comedians. I suspect it's more complicated - political commentators disguise their commentary as comedy so people'll listen. The right wing for some reason still haven't produced a commentator-comedian who's only funny when they intend to be.


    1If you feel like a view of Olbermann without the propaganda bias of the liberal media elite, try Conservapedia and Olbermanwatch. And stop laughing, it's ungodly.

    Guitar Anti-Hero


    Steve Krenz is an accomplished guitarist and guitar teacher, and he can help you not just learn but master rock guitar. At least, that's what Steve Krenz says. Has he really played with the greats of American rock, does he know his A-Sus-4 from his E-Aug-7, could he teach a penguin to waddle? I've no idea.

    A quick google search produces a wealth of hits - most of them suspiciously similar. At the top there's three sites with sponsored placement.

    One's called "Steve Krenz Guitar Scam?" and asks "Is Steve Krenz A Liar?". The answer comes back, "I think Learn and Master Guitar is a great course" and "I would recommend Learn and Master Guitar to you any day".

    Hmmm. The second advises "Before Buy Steve Krenz's L&M Guitar Make Sure You've Read This First!", before telling us...

    "Steve Krenz is the creator of Learn & Master Guitar. He has taught thousands of guitar lessons to guitar players of all ages and skill levels helping them go from where they are to where they want to be."


    Are you starting to see a pattern? The third asks ""Steve Krenz" a Scam?", even managing to suggest with the scare quotes that this scammer uses a fake name. On the site we find the banner "Read My Independent Review and Discover the Truth of Learn & Master Guitar Now!"...followed by...

    The DVDs are the best I've seen from any program...The instructor, Steve Krenz (world famous guitar player, teacher and professional)...provides the information to the students...to promote more effective learning.


    Yes. It looks like a purveyor of dubious product is anticipating his own exposure, and muddying the waters with fake exposes, with a series of pretend-critical "independent reviews" - all looking like they're written by the same person.

    But they're all so sycophantic, so overflowing with effusive praise that tells us nothing specific about the course, so obviously fake, overdone and badly done, that I can't imagine anyone being taken in.

    A few of the sites try to adopt a more realistic tone - somewhat marred by the fact that the ever-so-slightly "critical" article is duplicated around the net, and attributed to different writers.

    Other sources - seemingly genuinely independent - don't praise the product to the hilt. But neither do they slam it. Steve Krenz's 10 DVD guitar course probably can teach you to play the guitar, and probably isn't a scam or waste of money if you're a serious student.

    The marketing just makes it look that way. It seems we've now reached the stage when "viral" marketing and planted reviews actually work against the product - at least for those who aren't terminally gullible.

    Advertisers have always lied to consumers, consumers have always disbelieved them, advertisers have found new ways to lie, and after a few months consumers caught on and disbelieved them too. Now advertisers are pretending to be consumers debunking advertisers - and consumers don't believe that anymore.

    I don't know what the next stage is, but I somehow doubt it'll be a return to slightly less dishonest advertising.

    But It's All Shit!


    "I don't know why I've always loved talking about poop, but to me it is a great tool in detecting what's wrong in our bodies. I continuously monitor [my son] Evan's poop by sending it to labs to get tested to make sure things are all running smoothly..."
    - Jenny McCarthy (anti-vaccination nut)

    I need to stop wasting time. That's what I've been doing for the last fortnight - a lot of mental activity, all spent on pointless persuits.

    Last week I hacked a porn site. Or rather, last week I spent five minutes figuring out how to hack a porn site, another five finding an effective but inelegant way to get around the DRM...followed by two days failing to get a more elegant way to work. And then five days of downloading smut from the 70s and 80s.

    One day I might feel like watching it.

    This week was spent mostly arguing with net nuts on youtube. Here's a sample of their wisdom:

    "Black people have dancing in their blood they are born with it thats why they got rythym and they have amazing moves." [ILoveKelseyBriggs]

    "i can be friends with gay but i dont like when some 1 stand behing me lol" [ghhf1]

    "An elementary rule of Scripture is that God has deliberately included SEEMINGLY contradictions in His Word" [bornagain001]

    "god doesn't like homos - he finds them awfully irritating." [dirtyskank007]

    "New Coke wasn't a blunder it was a deliberate long-term strategy to make regular Coke into the more prestigious Coca-Cola Classic" [derpenstein]

    "How gives a shit about mixed up gay people. Fuck them." [Machtvollkommenheit]

    "Global warming is a huge lefty scam to take money from the poor and give it to the rich, like Al Gore." [unknown nut]

    "I decided to be heterosexual because I was raised that way." [TheFlashBeer]


    There's been other things - weeding someone's garden (two days), fixing someone's computer (two nights), writing blog rants then deciding not to publish them (too much) - but I'm feeling the need for something that

    (a) stretches my abilities a bit
    (b) is enjoyable
    (c) I actually want to do, and
    (d) isn't a complete and utter blithering waste of time.

    So I'm going to invent some musical instruments. Software ones, that is. I've been hovering around the forums for the software that makes software instruments...and I reckon a week of intensive study should get me famillar with it.

    So this is me, not wasting time anymore.

    Arte del Banco


    A few days ago I was alone in the house when the phone rang. I answered it, and the voice on the other end claimed to be from Barclay's bank - asking to speak to my father.

    Now, the previous week someone had called, claiming to be Barclays, asking him to "confirm" his bank details. Yes, it was a scam, trying to get his sort code and account number, and dad did his routine of keeping them hanging on the line for half an hour, making friendly chat at great length about nothing, before saying he wasn't a Barclay's customer and putting the phone down. Nice one dad.

    This time I decided to play along, pretending to be my father. If it was a scam, that would become apparent pretty quickly, and I could do my routine of giving lots of vague, contradictory and evasive answers...before telling them to fuck off. Or if it really was the bank, I could just be conveniently called away and hang up.

    They had some security questions, to check that I really was my dad. First question: What are the last two letters of your mother's maiden name?

    After a few seconds wracking my brain, I spat out two letters - immediately realising I'd got them wrong. The bank didn't seem to mind, telling me that was fine and moving on to the next security question.

    When was my year of birth? I couldn't remember what year my father was born, and he's always cagey about his age, so I took a wild guess. Which was accepted as correct.

    So we moved on to review "my" financial arrangements. The lady caller told me all about my father's standing orders, and I said it all sounded "about right". And no I didn't want to make any changes.

    She then moved on to the real point of the call - to offer to change my account to the new high interest version. This is where you get slightly more interest, and get charged GBP50 a day if you go overdrawn.

    I said no thanks, as we'd already examined and rejected all the new accounts - which was even true. She immediately lost interest and said goodbye.

    So, I now know several things:

    (1) It probably was Barclay's Bank.
    (2) Cold callers can't tell the difference between a man in his 30s and an asthmatic ex-smoker in his 70s.
    (3) My father's financial arrangements - he probably isn't supporting a second family on the other side of town.
    (4) Security questions are a meaningless ritual - they don't bother to check your answer.
    (5) Had I wanted to, I could have got a lot more info. And changed it.

    I hope this has helped you feel just a little happier about banking security.