This was the best April Fool joke I ever did.
I was Customer Service Manager in a large call-centre, working for a company that was contracted to ITV to provide call centre operations. In each wing of the centre there was a large photocopier and scanner. These were used a lot for scanning documents in, and general clerical stuff to do with customer accounts. They were concealed from the main area by a moveable screen. One day, we got some new ones in. They just happened to come into service on April 1st.
That morning, I sent out a memo to all my team leaders. "We have installed new photocopiers in Green Wing, which are state-of-the-art and voice-controlled. They are very simple to use and should save the teams a lot of wasted time dealing with all the buttons on the old ones. Please brief this to all teams during the pre-shift briefing: ..." I can't remember how it went after that, but it was mainly telling them to put the original on the glass bed, close the lid and then say "Print" in a clear voice. If the machine didn't respond, you weren't speaking loudly or clearly enough. I think I refined it with commands like "Add Paper" and "No, not that paper, I said A3" and things like that.
Then I retired to my desk and waited.
It was a complete riot and an unmitigated success. All morning people were disappearing behind the screens and then you could hear, louder and louder, "Print. Print. Purrrrrint. PRINT! Look, just fucking print, OK?" One girl eventually started to say 'please', which spoke well of her upbringing, but nothing for her common sense. After a while, most people had got the joke and were just waiting for yet another innocent to go behind the screen and try their luck. People had tears in their eyes, and calls to ITV that morning were not answered with our customary professionalism.
I was really proud of that one. Have a good day, and don't be fooled. Not by anyone.
Even me.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
I give up
I was going to do a spoof post about ACPO wanting to restrict motorcycles to certain 'allowed areas' only, and supporting a ban on anything over 12 bhp as 'unncessary in today's challenging road conditions'. It was going to end with this link.
But I couldn't. The more I wrote, the more depressed I got, as I realised that what I was writing wasn't a parody at all, but was merely what a lot of people in our Superior Class would like to see happen anyway. It's just that they would be more subtle. I did rather like the name I had for the ACPO spokesman: Roger D Kabinensteward.)
When you can't parody your own Government, it's time to give up, so I did. No-one would have laughed, anyway. It's too close to the truth.
But I couldn't. The more I wrote, the more depressed I got, as I realised that what I was writing wasn't a parody at all, but was merely what a lot of people in our Superior Class would like to see happen anyway. It's just that they would be more subtle. I did rather like the name I had for the ACPO spokesman: Roger D Kabinensteward.)
When you can't parody your own Government, it's time to give up, so I did. No-one would have laughed, anyway. It's too close to the truth.
Words I Hate
It's not news, and others have covered the story already, but there was one thing about this one that made my blood boil.
Ofsted have been failing some of the country's top independent schools - not because of poor results, because the results are generally outstanding, but because the schools haven't been keeping up with the box-ticking exercises that they have been charged with. Things like:
The one that make me choke on my cornflakes was:
But it's that word 'appropriately' that makes me want to chew the carpet and hit someone.
It's such a common usage these days that no-one probably thinks about what it means any more. If you try to unpick the meaning of the word in this sentence, it is saying that there are approved ways of playing, ones which fit all our preconceptions, and that doing anything different is somehow disobeying an agreed and sensible principle. It's a pompous and self-righteous word, one which says that I know better than you do what is good for you.
I don't mind the word itself. If I am ill, I want my doctor to prescribe me an appropriate medicine, that is one that is designed to do the job. If I am in the market for a new car, I would listen to advice on what model is appropriate for my needs. But when people start talking about laughter at a joke being 'inappropriate', what they are saying is not that the joke isn't funny (when laughter would be inappropriate), but that you shouldn't find it funny. A whole different concept. By using 'appropriate' in this way, you are saying that your opinions or views or prejudices are normal, mainstream and educated, with the implication that if you disagree, you are odd, badly brought-up, or too thick to tell the difference between good and bad.
It's the same trick an advertiser uses when they say "clever people buy Snibbo." You buy the product (or adapt your behaviour) to fall in line with what someone else thinks is good and proper. It plays on the desire to conform.
So children playing like - well, children - is 'inappropriate'. What would they have them do? Sit in the same classroom and do homework? Get the chairs in a circle and conduct a session of enlightened self-criticism? Read a nice book? (Appropriate author and content, of course.)
When it was Her Majesty's Inspector of Schools, they were checking that teaching and learning were up to standard, and a good thing too. It seems that, when they find a school where the teaching and learning are exemplary, they have to find trivia to criticise.
Because they must find something to criticise, mustn't they? We can't have private schools being successful, after all.
Ofsted have been failing some of the country's top independent schools - not because of poor results, because the results are generally outstanding, but because the schools haven't been keeping up with the box-ticking exercises that they have been charged with. Things like:
- keeping CRB check documents in a separate location, rather than a central file
- not having a specific statement on 'behaviour management' in their school policies (perhaps because at the schools concerned, good behaviour is assumed to be the norm)
- not making parents aware that they can have sight of a copy of the school's plan to meet the requirements of the Disability Discrimination Act 2002
The one that make me choke on my cornflakes was:
- Children have "not been taught how to play appropriately" because at break and lunchtimes they "often run around the small area shouting and letting off steam".
But it's that word 'appropriately' that makes me want to chew the carpet and hit someone.
It's such a common usage these days that no-one probably thinks about what it means any more. If you try to unpick the meaning of the word in this sentence, it is saying that there are approved ways of playing, ones which fit all our preconceptions, and that doing anything different is somehow disobeying an agreed and sensible principle. It's a pompous and self-righteous word, one which says that I know better than you do what is good for you.
I don't mind the word itself. If I am ill, I want my doctor to prescribe me an appropriate medicine, that is one that is designed to do the job. If I am in the market for a new car, I would listen to advice on what model is appropriate for my needs. But when people start talking about laughter at a joke being 'inappropriate', what they are saying is not that the joke isn't funny (when laughter would be inappropriate), but that you shouldn't find it funny. A whole different concept. By using 'appropriate' in this way, you are saying that your opinions or views or prejudices are normal, mainstream and educated, with the implication that if you disagree, you are odd, badly brought-up, or too thick to tell the difference between good and bad.
It's the same trick an advertiser uses when they say "clever people buy Snibbo." You buy the product (or adapt your behaviour) to fall in line with what someone else thinks is good and proper. It plays on the desire to conform.
So children playing like - well, children - is 'inappropriate'. What would they have them do? Sit in the same classroom and do homework? Get the chairs in a circle and conduct a session of enlightened self-criticism? Read a nice book? (Appropriate author and content, of course.)
When it was Her Majesty's Inspector of Schools, they were checking that teaching and learning were up to standard, and a good thing too. It seems that, when they find a school where the teaching and learning are exemplary, they have to find trivia to criticise.
Because they must find something to criticise, mustn't they? We can't have private schools being successful, after all.
Down the Pan
Well, the Pan is sold. It has been on an eBay auction which ended last night. There seemed to be a lot of interest, with over 60 people watching it and lots of enquiries, and the bids came close to the reserve price quite early on, but there was no last-minute rush and at the end there were only two bidders, both of whom had been in touch before. One guy bid in the last 20 seconds, reached reserve and it was sold.
I now have full payment in my Paypal account, which is good in one way, but a hassle in another. For one thing, Paypal have creamed off about 4% of the payment in fees, so that although the price it sold for meant I was better off than if I had part-exed the bike, after the fees I am slightly worse off. For another, the large payment means that Paypal have put a restriction on my account (quoting anti-money-laundering regulations) and I have to go through a few hoops with numbers on bank statements and the like before I can withdraw the money. (There is also the haunting spectre of Paypal Chargebacks, which I had never heard of until Paypal told me they were still possible, even though the guy had paid in full, and which will no doubt cause a bit of anxiety until 120 days have passed and a chargeback is no longer possible.)
The White Rhino is now waiting to be picked up by a courier and whisked off back to the frozen North, whence it came. The name comes from its appearance, which is stylishly brutal, a bit like one of those white plastic soldiers in that space film, and partly from a phrase in Bike magazine which stuck in the mind: a bike they had on test was so fast "it was like a charging rhinoceros with a spear up its bum."
I'll be sorry to see it go, in a way, but I have really developed no affection for it, merely a lot of respect for its capabilities. I've had bosses like that: great respect for what they do, but no feelings of friendship. In this it is, I think, unique for me: with all the other bikes I have owned, I have formed some kind of emotional attachment. Some have been genuine affection, as with a faithful dog; others have been frustration. But there was always a feeling of a kind of bond. The Honda always sat there, as efficient as a washing-machine, but about as thrilling.
So, a last shot of the Pan:
And a Star Wars Trooper, for comparison:
I now have full payment in my Paypal account, which is good in one way, but a hassle in another. For one thing, Paypal have creamed off about 4% of the payment in fees, so that although the price it sold for meant I was better off than if I had part-exed the bike, after the fees I am slightly worse off. For another, the large payment means that Paypal have put a restriction on my account (quoting anti-money-laundering regulations) and I have to go through a few hoops with numbers on bank statements and the like before I can withdraw the money. (There is also the haunting spectre of Paypal Chargebacks, which I had never heard of until Paypal told me they were still possible, even though the guy had paid in full, and which will no doubt cause a bit of anxiety until 120 days have passed and a chargeback is no longer possible.)
The White Rhino is now waiting to be picked up by a courier and whisked off back to the frozen North, whence it came. The name comes from its appearance, which is stylishly brutal, a bit like one of those white plastic soldiers in that space film, and partly from a phrase in Bike magazine which stuck in the mind: a bike they had on test was so fast "it was like a charging rhinoceros with a spear up its bum."
I'll be sorry to see it go, in a way, but I have really developed no affection for it, merely a lot of respect for its capabilities. I've had bosses like that: great respect for what they do, but no feelings of friendship. In this it is, I think, unique for me: with all the other bikes I have owned, I have formed some kind of emotional attachment. Some have been genuine affection, as with a faithful dog; others have been frustration. But there was always a feeling of a kind of bond. The Honda always sat there, as efficient as a washing-machine, but about as thrilling.
So, a last shot of the Pan:
And a Star Wars Trooper, for comparison:
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