I Know, I Know
Being a diabetic I shouldn't be allowed to mention the sweet stuff, or it might bring on a withdrawal coma or somesuch.
However - that word again! - this Intro is not about Conrad gorging himself on a twelve-pack of cream eclairs <gets wistful look> but rather about - Art!
This chap is Lord Alan Sugar, and he is by no means a sweetie. He is the star of "The Apprentice", a program Conrad has never seen but which seems to consist of people trying out business propositions in front of him, and usually failing horribly. It's now in it's 19th season, so enough of you out there watch it to make a difference.
Unlike the Orange Land Whale, who got his big break in the South Canadian version, Lord Sugar - must resist the urge to call him Lord Sweetie - has no intention of entering the world of politics.
ANYWAY I want to set out my reasons for disagreeing heartily with Lord Sugar about his position. Art!
Conrad. In case you'd forgotten.
Working From Home - hereafter "WFH" - is eminently unsuitable for any kind of outdoors job, as in the British Gas workers currently filling in the holes they've dug so far. Art!
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| Noisy beggars |
Nor would WFH be feasible on a factory floor, although with the arrival of AI a lot of basic hands-on tasks are going to become automated and both hands- and person-free.
Especially when one had to rely upon the wretches at First Bus. The total for monthly bus passes came to £68, and if I caught the tram back to Oldham in order to be quicker, once per week for the shopping day, then that added another £24. In total £92 monthly for bus and tram, in a journey that might consume three hours if busses were late, slow or encountered heavy traffic. Over a year that comes to over £1,100. So, when G4 took over the contract I work on and instituted WFH, Conrad was a happy bunny, because it was like getting a pay raise. Art!
That's an old photograph because the premises next to the Pleasant are now 'Panthera', whatever they are, and the bus stop is just out of shot.
Do you think Your Humble Scribe wants to endure this ever again? Art!
That's the entrance to Martin House, where Serco were based, in a physical open-plan office (more steel and glass than bricks and mortar). Prime city centre property, which must have cost an arm and two legs to lease. I bet G4 underbid them because - Surprised Pikachu Face - they had all their staff WFH, thus minimal overheads and no lease to pay for. Plus Conrad doesn't have an extra 10 minute walk out through the Arena car park if there's a concert on, which used to irk me, until I began using my very small manbag.
Back to the office? Bah!
The More Things Change
The more we are reminded that everything has been done before, except for AI and aerogel, both of which are frighteningly futuristic and probably created by black magic as much as science.
ANYWAY I would like to take us back in time, to the dark days of summer and autumn 1940 in This Sceptred Isle, when the Teutons reigned supreme on the continent of Europe - those bits that their bezzy mates the Sinisters hadn't already occupied - and we had lost an awful lot of kit in the aftermath of Dunkirk and Le Havre. Art!
This is the 'Bison', which was a mobile concrete pillbox mounted on a large truck chassis, sporting a concrete cab, too. The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed the lack of doors; there was a large hole underneath the pillbox that the crew entered via, and the cab had no roof. Art!
This is the 'Armadillo', which made the Bison look like a Challenger tank by comparison. The <ahem> fighting compartment on the truck bed was made by placing one wooden box inside another, with the gap being filled up with - er - gravel. Art!
This is a Ruffian T-72 with the turret removed, then having logs placed between two sheets of metal on each side, in order to carry infantry around. They appear to be running out of proper armoured personnel carriers. This bodge-up is not unique. Art!
Behold the equipment of the 'second army in the world', rolling back technology 85 years.
'Twas Another Noisy Afternoon
One of the drawbacks of WFH is that you're only at a relatively low height, as compared to being on the seventeenth floor of a skyscraper. If there were roadworks in city centre Gomorrah-on-the-Irwell none of their noise made it to us in Sainsbos. This afternoon the honest artisans of British Gas were busy filling in their previously dug holes, to the accompaniment of much shaking and hammering. Art!
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| Before |
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| After |
They may get working on the three holes outside The Mansion tomorrow, which will make my phone work especially interesting.
"The War Illustrated Edition 202 March 16th 1945"
Yes yes yes, I know we've already covered matters martial on BOOJUM! so sue me, and this is a distinctly political cover photograph rather than anything military. Art!
Yes, this is Winnie. He, Roosevelt and Stalin all met at Yalta to discuss what the post-war map of Europe ought to be, because by this time the Third Reich was on it's last foot, never mind legs. It was patently obvious that borders and spheres of influence needed to be thrashed out, and Yalta was where it happened. Stalin refused to travel abroad, because he felt safer at home, and he could boast and swagger as much as he wanted, so once again Yalta. The discussions here determined Europe's fate for the next 45 years, so no pressure.
Finally -
My 'shower boot' arrived earlier today. Now all I have to do is work out how to put it on and thus keep my injured big toe's dressing dry. No photo today as I'm still charging my phone and the charging lead is quite testy and temperamental.
Chin chin!
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