So. All those weird things I've posted are what I see in my work inbox all day long. Simply because the posters on the lists that I happen to be on, decide, every now and then, to use a naughty word.
What the fuck the point of this mailscanner is, god alone knows.
Is to to save bandwidth? Surely not - for the entire fucking message has to be downloaded by the work Exchange server before it can be scanned.
Is it to hide my fucking sensitive eyes from seeing the word? Again, surely not. After all, the mailscanner tells me about the blocked mail, and then very helpfully spells out the word and all its variations right at me...
And not once (let me repeat: not once) has it ever stopped a legitimate message. Never. Nada. Zero times. If just once I had seen it tell me that it had stopped an email from 'viagrashop@hotmail.com', I would have felt that just maybe, MailScanner has a place in this world.
It does not.
Cunts.
Die Broke
A Radical Four-Part Financial Plan
Stephen M. Pollan and Mark Levine
You are not a corporation - you are a human being. Your money shouldn't outlive you. You should exit life as you came into it: penniless. Your assets are resources to be used, for your own benefit and for the benefit of those you love. Every dollar that's left in your bank account after you die is a dollar you wasted. Use your resources to help people now when you know they need it, when it will do the most good, rather than hoping they'll be helped when you're dead. The last check you write should be to your undertakerÂ… and it should bounce.
Been meaning to mention Moyo for a while. Went there once. Apparently everyone else loves them.
They've replicated the African dining experience perfectly: right down to the crap service and non-English-speaking waiters.
Why is it that UNIX-based Windowing systems never get the font/typeface support right? While the rest of us Wintel-addicts are revelling in the glories of perfectly rendered, sublimely aliased, pitch-perfect Verdana, nestling gently up against Tahoma, and fondling Trebuchet, UNIX refugees bravely face the world, a blocky Arial their only weapon?
Look, UNIXy layout applications always got it right at the printer level. Which is way too late. At least on the Wintel boxes, those ever-fewer blue-screens-of-death look damn good.
I'm using Oskar's computer at the moment and I'm feeling visually assaulted by all these errant pixels.
Kern, baby, kern.
Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.
Hard drive failure. Eskom die.
Recently on the Hivemind, Ivo had this to say. Published here with his kind permission.
--
In this thread the usual batch of misconceptions about money and
capitalism popped up. Let me try to clear 15 of them up:
Finally, to repeat a well-made point of earlier: if money is evil, why
does the lack of it cause so many ills and injustices?
Why (despite some internal mechanical reason) are CD drive buttons routinely placed below the tray? This would only make sense if you have the drive located above you. And that's rare. Well, I've never seen it so.
And even in that case, you're still putting the CD in the tray from the top, and not from the bottom. At which point, you have to then reach around to find the button to push to close the tray. And don't tell me to push the tray in - there's an awful sound and feeling if you do that (which roughly translated would come out as: "you need to buy a new CD drive soon".)
It would make far more sense if the buttons were placed above the tray. Think about it.
Went to Station this weekend. It's an exceptionally well-laid out club. Low points are that it's in Midrand, and that DJ Sakim was playing. Thankfully, so were the other DJs.
In particular, Jason Magic's set was simply stunning.
So there you are, adjusting your monitor settings, and the one icon that actually resets everything looks extremely similar to the icon that exits the menu. Predictable gnashing of teeth ensues.
And I've done this more than once.
It's 8:30 in the evening. I'm at home, and logged in. Well, obviously, or you wouldn't be reading this, I guess. Anyway, the standard IT workers hectic weekday evening procedure is in full swing: get home, feed cat, pop dinner in the over to reheat, undress, put on white towelling gown, boot up PC, log on, check that stuff you've built during the day at work hasn't decided to break.
Actually, this time I'm mainly logged in to pay bills. Sometimes I despair with Nedbank. You see, a couple of years ago, they were the first bank in South Africa to go online with 'self-service' banking. Well, First National Bank beat them to it, but all that FNB allowed you to do was kinda check your balance and maybe see a statement online. All the joy of an ATM, with all the functionality of an ATM (then). So anyway, Nedbank goes online with full strength encryption. FNB was only 56 bit, and Nedbank was pretty happy with themselves that they had this little proxy that ran on your local PC, that managed to encrypt your transactions with the Nedbank server at the 128 bit level. At the time, the company I was working for was tasked with developing and deploying this app, and it was my job to write the install package for it. All hail InstallShield (seriously cool software). But I digress.
At first, I was really excited about what was happening with Nedbank. They were my bank at the time, and had been kind enough to give me a student (which kinda meant that I was able to study and therefore get a job from those studies, that enabled me to work on software for them. Oh, the irony.) Suddenly with the help of this app, I was able to pay my bills and do various other transactions that meant I had to set foot in a physical branch of the bank even less. Ah, bliss. Or so I thought.
You see, at that stage you couldn't add your own beneficies while online. You had to physically walk into the bank and tell them the account details of the people or organisations you wanted to pay, and they would add them to your profile. Sure, this is a once-off thing for each beneficiary, but we all live in the wired world, and suddenly once you're given a tool, you want to use it for everything. And we as Nedbank clients were promised that 'real soon now' we would be able to add our own beneficiaries online. That was back in December 1996.
About a year ago, Nedbank upgraded their online banking site (called NetBank - cute), which now did allow you do add your own beneficiaries. Oh the excitement I felt when I read this. I hastily logged in, visions of full-service floating in my head. And, like a date where you finally get the person you're sexually attracted to home from the club, undress them and discover they're woefully, um, 'underpowered' in the genitalia department, I was suddenly disappointed.
Yes, you could add beneficiaries yourself. For other Nedcor accounts. Only.
If you wanted to add someone banking at another institution, it was 'visit the branch' again. And in the ensuing years since December 1996, ABSA, Investec, Standard Bank and a host of others had already provided more functional online banking sites, rapidly leaving Nedbank in their digital wake.
So, in a fit of customer-(dis)service-pique, I called their help line, and ranted politely about how this sucked. The drone on service was polite, and agreed with me, but could do nothing.
Here's the reason constantly given by the bank: security. They reckon that if someone should break into your account online (despite them having to know your profile number, profile PIN, and profile password, and it being over a strong secure connection) that person could add themselves as a beneficiary and empty out your account into theirs.
This makes sense, and I understand the bank wanting to protect their customers from this scenario. So I came up with this idea: let me add any beneficiary at any institution I like, but don't activate that beneficiary yet. Instead, have some backend process whereby I'm notified (by phone or GSM SMS) that a beneficiary has been added. And at that point I can confirm that I added it. And then Nedbank could activate that beneficiary.
The customer-service drone agreed with me that this was a good idea. That was over 12 months ago. I still can't add beneficiaries from other institutions online, and I'm charged over R20 a month for this.
Go 20twenty!