Greetings beautiful readers. Today is a day of utter sadness that so far exceeds my ability to express it that the excession itself is beyond my comprehension.
When last I spoke to you it was in tiny posts simply celebrating the happiness of being alive and having a birthday. At that celebration were members of family and friends. My little boy was there as well (his mother did a bunk with another guy years ago). Things seemed great.
What happens next beggars belief. The very next day my mother and sister came to visit again, a rare enough occasion with their busy lives at the best of times, and they carried with them some very bad news.
My four year old son's mother has done a midnight-flit and vanished completely.
It soon transpired that she had left with a guy she had known for (by all sources) at most two weeks (or at least been with for that time). She (it seems) had bundled the kids into a van and driven for seven hours to a point two thirds of the county away.
To you American readers this is the equivalent of dashing to the far side of a state... perhaps even crossing the state line... it doesn't scale well (sorry).
To put it shortly - I'm devastated and I dread to think what kind of impact this will have on my little boy.
Yay-hey-hey tomorrow is my birthday. I will be old(er) but still younger than 30! So if you don't hear from me it coz I'm still at a Par-tay!
Is it only me that's had enough of US politics and elections?
Tell us your views on the flood of monosubject hitting the blogs from the US.
Some days I feel in danger of disappearing up my own sense of self-importance. I think it must be my own way of remembering that I am not God or even very god-like just slightly big headed sometimes.
In remaining balanced what is your greatest danger?
Greatings beautiful Readers. Today for no reason I feel less than healthy.
I had intended to say much, write much and praise much but I have been unable to do so. I have heard so many nice things said about me by different blogs that I feel the need to recipricate.
Yet I can not.
Storm damage, health damage, work damage and stress have piled up against me. I have not been back to the office I complained so bitterly about other than yesterday when the same preasure was there like an invisible spirit leaning on my soul with a foul and oppressive breath full of the vapours of conflict.
It is likely that it is entirely within my mind and yet I feel so free now I am gone from there.
For now I must be ciontent with getting better then I will takle the next stage of my business plan.
Doan Mind Me: Storm storm storm!: "How are you supposed to feel when 80,000 people are homeless, an economy destroyed and resources are scarce?"
How does one cope with the news that thousands will die, be hurt or in some way have their lives ruined, perhaps forever?
I think all of us would like to be some kind of super powered hero able to battle storms or anything physical just to know we were making a "real" difference. We are physical beings and a physical battle is millions of times easier to comprehend.
It helps that the news coverage is scanty and we can witch a thousand other mindless programs and thank God it's not happening to us. We pretend it's not real. We let ourselves believe it to be unfathomable miles away and yet the world is a small place and we all live in it together.
It has always been hard dealing with such destruction, the knowing and the not wanting to care because caring hurts when you feel so damn helpless.
Yet what is often harder is the lack of reason, the total emptiness in the fairness column on the balance sheet and the granite hard and cold stoic: "events happen and all you can do is accept that".
I remember being read a passage that I can only assume is in the bible. Let me paraphrase it: Jesus is talking with some folk and he says what about the men who died when the wall fell on them? What wrong had they done? Do you think they deserved that fate (of course not) they and their families will not be given an explanation. It's like the answer is there is no answer "the exit leads in".
It's hard to live through a disaster. It's hard to watch one. They are simply a hard part of life and I am devoid of answers save: that which defines us as humans is not what we do, what we conquer or how we overcome but it is how we respond to that which is beyond our power. It is our reaction to the mindless random that shows who we really are.
This is a log of events taking place at the premises of NTFS Limited it is currently 1111 hours (11:11am) 08 September 2004 which seems to me a suitable time to log the activities of today and the days leading up to today.
My Name is Matthew Brown an I am an independent consultant, programmer and freelance data expert. I have trained for four years studying with singular dedication to achieve the skills that generally are failing to earn me a penny.
As such I find abuse for being me while doing my job more than I am willing to take.
I work for the bulk of my weak in the damp basement of NTFS limited writing VBa code for database systems I have designed. The pay is piss poor but I am working and earning (I will earn on completing of Project A or C plus I will given an Althon XP Top end PC).
So you see the day-to-day work is fairly badly paid in that it does not pay.
I work at this job not because I couldn't gain more at MacDonalds serving burgers (I could PC included) but because the owner of NTFS is my friend. Further more I love what I do and that should be more than enough to keep me going. That is until yesterday.
Upstairs on the ground floor is the tiny shop front that Dave has chosen to have called "The Computer Shop". The girl who works there is Lisa she is barely a child with little to no qualifications and one of the many "care workers" this county has. Now however she is working for Dave (working for NTFS Limited) answering phones and "manning" the shop.
It should be pointed out that she spends more time down here doing God-alone-knows-what than she spends up there when Dave is absent. Still as she is the daughter of the "girl friend" / "Lover" / "shag piece" / "Female Pregnant by his seed" of Dave, owner of NTFS and as such should be expected to take more liberties than any other employee.
I have done my best to be not only nice but actually pleasant to this girl and to get along with her despite having exactly zero things in common with her and a general tendency towards feelings of intellectual superiority when around her. It is, however, not nice to imply or act as if someone is a lesser person, foolish, base or stupid just because you own ego might like to think that the case. She is competent in her job and far more suitable a worker than any of the others that have been her (with the possible exception of those that do book keeping / accounting).
When she started the girl was so out of her depth around technology that I pitied her plight and attempted to help. To this end I took into work with me a copy of Lemmings, a book on royal scandals, a pair of witty and interesting books on the birth of the IT industry as we know it & the birth of the internet; and a general guide to letter writing. However I underestimated the inclination of this girl to actually read and other than the letter writing guide that was used when composing business letters for Dave the bundle went unused.
Perhaps I pitched my answer to her need to high or maybe she felt insulted by the attempt who knows because just yesterday she stormed down the stairs (abandoning the shop again) and angrily ranted that the toilet seat should be "...LEFT DOWN!". As she (didn't) ask so nicely I felt compelled to do no such thing.
For the rest of the day I could not shake the unutterable anger at this total abuse. What right had she to shout at me like that? She is not the one who pays me, not the one who asked me to come, not the one who directs my work... she's a nothing in my scheme of things. Were I a member of the company I would out rank her by shear scale of pay if nothing else. If this were a lager company a disciplinary hearing would be held regarding this upstart till girl for speaking to a senior programmer and the company director like that. However, this is a tiny operation and no such thing will happen.
It's still abuse in the work place though.
So many thoughts rushed through my head. Don't I put up with enough smelling the stench of cigarette smoke in this unventilated tunnel? Don't I put up with enough having had the heavy hatch from the counter fall on my head on two separate occasions? Don't I put up with enough working in mess and chaos? Don't I put up with enough not asking for more money for what I do? I was angry. I had not been that angry in months, maybe even years. It stirred in my gut so that I could not settle to work. I was useless for programming all that day. Simple things alluded me like the shut down command for "Microsoft Access 2000 VBa" for example. I could not concentrate.
Further stirring my anger was what happened after that.
I set about connecting the PC I use to the network for internet access. To this end I sorted out three boxes of cables and tidied a table full of junk. The room was better for my efforts, clearer and less of a fire hazard.
Today however I felt a greater sense of calm. I am independent and can not be sacked for walking out. I hold many of the cards here. Further, I am an advocate for gender equality and a defender of the rights of men. Abused men need defenders too.
New thought filled my head today. I have a right to a peaceful work place. I have a right to be treated with respect by the employees of companies I work for. I have the right to stop working. I have just as much right to leave silly signs on the toilet.
I visited the web site Everything2 and looked at a funny article on the subject: http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=407688 it contains exactly one obscenity and that is in the title: "I will REMOVE the fucking toilet seat if you don't shut up". The article talks at length about the trails and stupidities of the toilet seat debate, something I had hitherto never encountered.
I knew of this article and had always felt the writer had a funny view of the world. Today I knew he had a clear view of the world.
I thought about the sign in the toilet that had appeared saying put the toilet seat down. I thought about the lack of grace, the lack of asking nicely and then I printed the article. I stuck said print-out over the sign. I deliberately put the seat up. I sat back down at my desk with full view of the only door to the toilet.
I will remove...
My stomach was a not of tension I could not even read the daily news emails I subscribe too, I just sat at my desk pretending to read. I was experiencing fear.
Fear in my work place.
What had I done? I had started a war. There would be shouting. I would have to get out.
I couldn't move. I could only imagine that I would be phoning an ambulance to come attended to me. I imagined that if my face was bleeding even a little I would call them just to "shit her up" for her violence. I imagined how this would spoil my day and I thought about the long walk home from A&E.
I imagined telling Dave: "I'm telling you as a friend..." no maybe "I'm sorry mate but as a friend you deserve to know..." and some ending like "...I will probably be suing you company as a matter of principle."
"I hope we can still be friends."
Then my heart started to beat faster she had come to rummage around in the boxes again. (what does she do with them?) Then she opened the door to the toilet. I forced a smile onto my face and my nerves abated temporarily.
No I could do nothing the fear gripped my body and froze me to my desk.
I felt so exposed. The violence was going to happen soon and I was going to not defend myself because "YOU MUST NOT HIT FEMALES".
I was petrified.
At last I typed into a notepad file:
"Violence, Silence or Shouting?
...as I typed "...0" it was like a portend of things to come: the toilet flushed and the door opened.
I sat fixed on the screen starting at the words I could not read commanding my body to look relaxed. I braced my self to be hit. "I can take it!" I told myself over and over. "I can take this I am a man!".
"Put the fucking toilet seat down!" she shouted. I barely heard the exactness of her words but he demanding, ordering and abusive tone was clear. I raised my middle finger to her and refused to look away from the monitor. My vision had tunnelled to utter blackness and I could effectively not see. I remember readying for a fight at school when I knew the bigger lad was going to try and beat me to the floor. This felt the same. It felt worse because you can hit boys and you only get a one hour detention if unlucky enough to be seen.
The she was gone, up the stairs and back to the shop.
I reach forward and typed "Fly by shouting." though in retrospect I think I meant "drive by shouting" like a drive by shooting in a gangster movie.
I trembled. I let the tension ebb away.
So that was blind rage then! Literally you become blind. Astounding!
Now in place of the tension came renewed anger. She could at least damn well ask me.
She should ask.
I will remove...
I could remove the seat from the toilet.
Then I got up I went to the toilet room and I turned on the light. The seat was down and my sign untouched.
My only thought was "The illiterate bitch didn't read my message" as I lifted the toilet seat up and departed the room.
I sat down at my desk again and tried to see the funny side of it. There is no funny side.
I hope Dave reads the sign and laughs. I hope he sees the funniness of the joke in the toilet room.
So that brings us to 1111 hours and me starting to type my account. It is 1211 to the minuet and the irony of the exactness is not lost on me. I doubt anyone who reads this will believe the times but they are gospel truth. This account has taken me an hour and I feel that I have expressed everything that has happened to the fullness of my skills.
I think back and my heart quickens, there is a flutter and a mild fear.
This is the face of work place abuse.
This is how women abuse men and get away with it.
What I might do now is print this out and pin it to the wall where I have worked in the office of NTFS limited and then I will leave for the very last time (screw them!). I will go and see the competitor two doors away. At one time they too were my friends. I will give them a copy to hold in a sealed envelope. I will go home and feel sad that I may never own that great PC. I will hope that Dave and I will continue to be friends.
Maybe I will continue to work on the projects that I started but if I do I will work from home.
If I can help it I will never work in an office I do not own again.
I might even take legal advice but on that score I just don't know.
A big woo-hoo to all my guests and visitors over the past month. Thankyou for helping to shape this blog.
If I could just point out the comment section and maybe draw your attention to it that would be good.
Whenever I visit other sites, especially blogs and homepages I always try to do one of a few things. The reasson is those actions are what I would like to see happen on my blog, homepage or other site (I get about a bit).
Action number one is to read what ever the site owner has taken the good time to write. I might not read it all and sometimes I find I only read very little but I do try to atleast understand the bloggist to some degree.
Then I like to read the comments other people have left. Only after all that do I allow myself to do the best bit of all - I post a message.
Posting messages is a form of real power - you get to add something to the website. You change that site forever. For this reason I try to say something worthwhile.
There are real benifits to you for your efforts at commenting. Most commenting system allow you to provide some way for your that sites visitors to find you and return the favour. This means that you may get none, one or some return visitation. Which is a big deal if you readership is close on none at all.
There are further benifits from visiting a site and commenting, especially if you return and say hi again and again. You both gain a small sense of friendship, community and conectedness. This tends to be a two way thing and can lead to many hours or even days of constant happy blogging.
Try it to day drift outside of your box and say "hi" to the world. Tell them the Beautiful Talker sent you, just for fun.
It's a real nice day again today, far too nice for me to spend so much time on-line. Sorry guys I'll probably not post today.
This feed is down. It will be replaced in good time.
The Beautiful Talker does not care for the outer appearance of the blogger. He does not care for the gender of the blogger.
The Beautiful talker feels that to distinguish bloggers for gender, shape, size, colour, hair, religion or for any other reason that is not the content they produce is wrong.
The Beautiful Talker does not like the fact that bloggers should be advantaged or disadvantage based just on gender. It is not moral or good to promote a link because the writer of the blog is a man or a woman (depends on bias).
The Beautiful Talker now aims to ensure that blogs that use discrimination will not get a link from this blog.
Just for fun I've taken the blog title and Googled it. These are some of the results
Blogs at Buzz 42:
You may also be interested in the Buzz 42 Community
The Link club. A dotty bunch of blogs all linking to each other for the simple reason we are all mates in real life.
You want to join you say? Hmm... better start telling everyone how great these blogs are then!
paris hilton, eminem, britney spears and other girls were not involved in makeing this Blog.
green day, lindsay lohan, carmen electra, jennifer lopez, 50 cent & girls gone wild compleatly failed to inspire anypart of this creation.
This is not anime and we did not cause tsunami regardless of what you may have been told.
We do not usher in new games with weather related lyrics.
tattoos of thongs, jessica simpson and the word "dictionary" are not only unconected but unconnected with us in any real and meaningful way.
The Beautiful Talker wrote 50,000 words in just 30 days!
The Beautiful Talker is not ashamed to be a bloke even though he might get less links and less clicks. However it says this low down so you judge first on content first.