Smells like Christmas spirit

It's been a fractured week, I'm tired and it's beyond me to tie it all together. So instead I've broken it down into sections and even added in a joke – see if you can spot it.

Home life:

Mrs R has been given a medical drug reference book. This along with access to Wikipedia is proving to be detrimental to our health. What her GP was thinking of is anyone's guess.

Work life:

Two weeks ago we had a company re-structure; our new boss will visit us next week to explain the changes. I'm going to do my bit for the team and heed one of the six e-mails of the week reminding us to keep our desks tidy. I'll even wear my best t-shirt and, who knows, I may even iron it.

Current Affairs:

More enjoyable was the Jeremy Paxman interview with the Leader of the House of Commons, Harriet Harman. Given that it's now apparently a criminal offence to embarrass the government, perhaps the police should consider locking her up as well?

Joke:

Two software developers are standing in the park.

One developer has a shiny new bike.

The other developer asks him, "Nice bike - how much?"

The first one says, "It was free."

The other asks, "Really, how did you get it for free?"

The one with the bike says," Yesterday a beautiful woman rode up on this bike, took off all her clothes and told me I could have anything I wanted."

The other software developer says, "Good move - her clothes wouldn't have fit you anyway."

A time to reflect

That's two good Fridays in a row. I once again achieved something unprecedented - though it occurs to me that if I've done it again then there is a precedent. There I am speeding through my work in a not-quite-unprecedented fashion, going so fast that I move ahead of schedule and have time for a little reflection. Not of the contemplating life variety unfortunately; nowadays when I attempt such a feat the result is something akin to tumbleweed being blown across a deserted office floor. This 'reflection' was of the type used to access private methods of a public class and, since I was feeling particularly cocky (but mainly because I had to), access public methods of a private class within a public class. I know what you're thinking… where can I find me a man like that?

Actually I must own up. You'll find this difficult to believe but I had to google 'how to' and found out... er... 'how to' on a site page published FIVE YEARS AGO. This shocking lack of knowledge on the inner workings of the Microsoft .NET framework probably explains my lack of success with gorgeous attractive women, or indeed any kind of women. There could be other factors involved, such as being married and in my forties, but I doubt it.

Disappearing up my own behind

One of the problems in withdrawing from the real world, besides the realisation that the fridge isn't large enough to hold that many pizzas, is that it's possible to lose your sense of proportion. For example, since returning to civilisation (I work in Newport, Wales) I have had to concede that the contentious issue of cutting Belle's song, When Love Is Gone, from the DVD version of The Muppet Christmas Carol didn't perhaps warrant the hours I spent researching why it was done, and whether a 'complete' version was available.

I blame a friend for this; it's far easier than blaming myself. A chance comment on the weekend reminded me of this omission and sent me into a downward spiral of nerdy behaviour. Like many of my kind I have developed an obsessive-compulsive nature when it comes to deciding on the definitive version of something. As it turns out, because if you've read this far you either want to know or you've nothing better to do (I can guess which), the definitive version isn't as clear-cut as I thought. The song was originally omitted from the theatrical release but when they released the film on VHS (remember that?) they either added the song back in or (and this is what I suspect) they couldn't be bothered finding the final cut of the film and just released what they found. Having reviewed the missing scene on YouTube (God bless 'em) I'm not sure we're missing much but I can imagine all that mushy stuff appealing to a lot of women, and even a few men. Real men however, such as me, are too busy eating their eggs, cream and bacon pie... and enjoying the scary moments…

Ever decreasing

What makes a hero

The word or the deed

Does a gift to inspire

Impart all that we need

When will you heed

The requirement to act

To disappoint many

Whilst others you back

Where is the money

For payments not met

Will saddle our children

With mountains of debt

How will you set

On the hardship we owe

To move us away

From the life that we know

What makes a hero

The word or the deed

Can your gift to inspire

Impart all that we need

Half man, half machine

I had a very strange sensation late Friday morning; for some inexplicable reason, and despite a hard week, I was full of positive energy and really enjoying myself at work. In fact I was so "in the zone" (now that we all like America again it's O.K. to talk like them) I even began to overheat. I couldn't pace myself at all, my mind raced ahead of my body, my typing couldn't keep up and neither could my breathing. I was a machine; not really functioning correctly but it felt "awesome".

Or maybe I was having a panic attack.

Anyway, during those moments where I was able to coordinate my mind and body, I managed to get a fair bit of work done. Scraps of paper, pieces of code, cobbled together sequence diagrams - nothing complete but I'm close to identifying all the pieces and I've even a notion of how they all fit together. I'm still a little behind schedule but it's become one of those things where you go past the point of being able to do anything about it; you let people know and do the best you can. I'd like to worry but it's not in the (project) plan.

I do have three glorious days off work next week, in the plan, and I plan to make the most of them. Mind you, I'll warrant my idea of 'making the most of things' is different to the norm… as I'm not really sure 'do nothing' counts?

Hail to the chief

It is one of the great political ironies of the late 20th century that the 1st female leader of a country in the western world was not from the political left, who spent a great deal of time preaching equality without ever practicing it, but the political right. Margaret Thatcher made those in the Conservative party that had gone before look positively pedestrian, and reduced many in the Labour party (women included) to hurling sexist comments at her in desperation. She was loathed by the opposition, the old guard of her own party and the establishment in almost equal measure; but she was a first.

It is one of the great political ironies of the early 21st century that the 1st black leader of the western world is not from the sophisticates of Europe, who still have a problem understanding equality, but of the 'dumb-ass' United States. A continent consisting of more than a dozen elected governments, many of whom in private (if not in public) have always looked down on their North American counterparts, has not once come close to achieving such a historic event; a continent that was no doubt prepared to ignore it's own history and proffer 'racist America' headlines had the Democrats failed to win.

Whilst much of Europe remains shackled to the core socialist belief that a (presumably benign) state is more important than the individual, America understands that to create true opportunity for all and thus for a nation to grow, individuals must be given the chance to excel. Barack Obama is that individual. Never has the phrase "Only in America" been more apt.

Heaven?

When he looked back it would be with tears of joy and a glow in his heart. Those were the halcyon days; slouched on the sofa, a pile of DVDs on the table, a cup of tea in one hand, remote control in the other… It didn't get any better. He had to acknowledge however that there might be more to life than this. How would he ever be taken seriously when he needed 5.1 surround sound to truly experience what life had to offer?

He was half way through his week away from work and already wishing he'd booked a second week of idleness; but normal life was beginning to encroach on this idol paradise. A trip to the garden centre was, he believed, only a precursor to more uninmaginable terrors.

Doubts began to play at his mind

• Should he have read a book instead?

• Was he guilty of using too many semi-colons?

• Why did his wife keep making him shepherd's pie when he'd told her he wasn't too keen? Or at least he thought he had.

• Were Liverpool FC capable of mounting a serious challenge to the title this season?

• Is bullet pointing just a cheap way to extend your blog entry when you've run out of ideas?

• Would anybody notice?

Not to be continued...