There I was, in my office, headphones safely ensconced over my grimy ears, listening to music that made blood trickle down my external auditory meatus, minding my own business. Those are the conditions under which I work the best.
Suddenly… what’s that? Brenda Lee?
There goes my toe a tappin’. And I just lost the ability to properly nest my code. What was I working on again?
Yep. Christmas music in April. What’s wrong with this picture? My wife knew something was up when she heard me in the kitchen. “And we’ll do some caroling.” She just shook her head.
Little did she know it wasn’t my fault. I’m here to tell you about the feature that
time Apple forgot.
It’s an idea so simple and elegant that Apple probably worried it would make them a bit too cool. Apple knows there’s a law of diminishing returns on coolness.
The missing feature I’m talking about, of course, is a “Festive” system that tells Shuffle to omit music flagged as “seasonal” during certain months of the year. If enabled, for example, seasonal music would only play Nov. 15 through Dec. 27th or so. (The actual dates could be adjustable.)
While I hold my breath and wait for Apple to get right on this humble request, who wants to lend me a hand? These halls aren’t going to deck themselves! It’s beginning to sound a lot like Christmas around here. And, baby, it’s cold outside!
Because you ask, the answer is no. This is a friendly cousin of an old favorite, “Because, you wish it!” which I picked up from a happy-go-lucky Klingon Commander in the movie Star Trek III: The Search For Spock.
It’s a simple policy I find to be remarkably effective.
For a limited time, I’ll explain how it works.
Step 1: Find someone to ask you for something. This usually isn’t too hard.
Step 2: Say “no.” The phrase “Because, you wish it!” is optional but provides a certain undeniable flair.
If you can’t find someone to ask for something, try going grocery shopping. 99% of the time (or so I theorize) the amount of your purchase will contain a fractional amount of dollars. (I’m in cents about that.) That’s when the happy-go-lucky clerk will loudly ask, for all to hear:
You’re not such a selfish sack of shit that you’re unwilling to “round up” for charity, are you? Huh, huh, huh? Greedo! I must be Han Solo because I’m firing first. I dare you to say no. It’s for “charity” and that’s always good, right? Am I right or am I right?
Listen, fuck face. I’m doing you a courtesy by shopping in your establishment. And you respond to that by trying to guilt me into some action that will ultimately make you look good?
I decided the best course of action is to carry an actual bottle of Roundup® Weed Killer on my belt. (Who says Monsanto can’t be handy?) When some snot nose practitioner of psychological warfare asks me if I want to “round up” I’ll happily reply, “Don’t mind if I do!” and spray that shit right in their face.
Human acute toxicity is dose related. Acute fatal toxicity has been reported in deliberate overdose. Epidemiological studies have not found associations between long term low level exposure to glyphosate and any disease.
Based on an assessment completed in 1993 and published as a Reregistration Eligibility Decision (RED) document, the EPA considers glyphosate to be noncarcinogenic and relatively low in dermal and oral acute toxicity. The EPA considered a “worst case” dietary risk model of an individual eating a lifetime of food derived entirely from glyphosate-sprayed fields with residues at their maximum levels. This model indicated that no adverse health effects would be expected under such conditions.
In June 2013, the Medical Laboratory in Bremen published a report that glyphosate was present in human urine samples from 18 European countries. Malta showed the highest test results with the chemical showing up in 90% of samples and the average for all countries was 43.9%. Diet was stated as the main source.
Thanks for the assist, Wikipedia! 🙂
It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. “Won’t you round up that wee bit for charity?” That sounds a lot nicer than the reality: “Gimme some arbitrary amount of your cash for our cause that you know nothing about. Our admin costs are only 98%. Ha ha ha!”
Or, worse: “We’ll use this money to fight against you, your core beliefs, and every cultural warfare front on which you stand opposed.” On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be shopping at Chick-Fil-A and/or the Boy Scouts after all.
What’s wrong with asking for a little charity? Mainly that it makes it your decision and not mine. What could possibly be wrong with that? Only that I have absolutely no idea what my money will be used to support. Duh.
Recently a dude came to my door and asked for marriage equality support. That’s one of my pet causes. I gladly told him we already signed the petition when we enjoyed a “free” concert in the park. (Ha!) He said, “That’s great. I also need $60.”
“I don’t know who the hell you are.” Worse, the dude was a paid canvasser. Bothering me in my own home was his job. Somehow that rubs me the wrong way. It’s feels like spraying Monsanto on those alleged grass roots.
Long story short, me and the dude had a 45-minute conversation on my front porch and we connected. I ended up violating my own rule and giving him the oddly specific amount of $60. It didn’t hurt that this was a cause I believe in. What can guru say? Guru is often too nice.
A few weeks later, though, come to find out there are two different groups operating in the state, ostensibly for the same overall goal, but employing differing and contradictory strategies. Holy crap. Which group did I agree with? Which strategy did I end up “voting” for with my money? Did I agree with it? Or was I on the wrong side?
This is why giving to charity should be an outgoing decision, never incoming. Ever. To choose to do so is akin to voluntarily flushing your money down a toilet. Or worse.
So sell me my groceries and shut the hell up. I got hit by enough beggars just by walking into your store. That should have been my first clue, I guess.
Ever get a response to a request for help that proves the person on the other end didn’t take the time or effort to actually read what you wrote? That can be frustrating.
This time it happened at WordPress Support. I’m a big fan of WordPress and quite pleased to be on their platform, but I cannot tell a lie. Their response to my request for help sucked.
The other day ALL of the images on my blog just up and disappeared. It freaked me out a bit since I have no backups (dumb) and some of them are irreplaceable one of a kind originals. (Ha!) I had recently uploaded and deleted one image in the Media area, so I thought that might have something to do with it. Frantic, I sent a support request and received the following reply:
Subject: [WordPress #nnnnnn]: Media – All images missing
From: Xxxxx – WordPress.com (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Sent: Wed 1/0X/10 3:07 PM
To: shoutabyss at live dot com
> I did: Uploaded an image to media. I then deleted that image.
> I saw: All my images disappear.
> I expected: Please tell me you backup my images. I don’t have other
What’s the image in question? If you delete an image from your Media Library you can’t get it back.
By the way, that “I did, I saw, I expected” crap is theirs, not mine. Apparently they had to revert to a template like that based on the average bear who contacts them. I love being treated based on the lowest common denominator.
So, was I not clear enough? “All images missing” in the subject line seems pretty freakin’ simple. Then in the body I grammatically point out: “All my images disappear.”
The response was so quickly received that I was stunned. I think it was something like only 30 minutes or so. That is unheard of. But what they had to say indicates they only read part of what I had written and they offered no actual comment, insight, or solution regarding my actual problem. They also completely ignored the second part of my request which was a question about backups.
Luckily my images started working a short time later and I moved on and didn’t pursue the crappy response any further. Apparently it was just some sort of temporary WordPress glitch. Here’s hoping I never have to contact them again.