Lately I have been allowing the recruiters a single chance to not screw up. It's the "one strike and you're out" rule. Usually they blow it by lying to me. Know how I can tell they're lying? Their lips move.
And I always assumed they send the same "job opportunity" email to 99 other addresses. Here is one example.
http://blog.reverberate.org/2008/07/17/416-random-people-with-ror-on-their-resume-reply-all-reverse-flash-mob/
Monday, July 21, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
An American Crime
I was not prepared for such a wrenching horror story. This film is vastly more disturbing than anything Clive Barker or the video game industry could dream up.
My HS social studies teacher told us the story of Kitty Genoves's murder in NYC. In the popular imagination Genoves' murder marked a (low) point in American history where one could argue that our American civic culture was dead. Or at least dead in Queens, New York. The story of her murder was grossly distorted by the press but it's also true nobody made sure the police came. None of the witnesses could have been sure what they saw but none of them bothered to investigate the situation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitty_Genovese
What happened under Gertude Baniszewski's roof goes way beyond the "bystander effect." Be advised this is a deeply disturbing film.
My HS social studies teacher told us the story of Kitty Genoves's murder in NYC. In the popular imagination Genoves' murder marked a (low) point in American history where one could argue that our American civic culture was dead. Or at least dead in Queens, New York. The story of her murder was grossly distorted by the press but it's also true nobody made sure the police came. None of the witnesses could have been sure what they saw but none of them bothered to investigate the situation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitty_Genovese
What happened under Gertude Baniszewski's roof goes way beyond the "bystander effect." Be advised this is a deeply disturbing film.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Random Harvest
Great old black and white film. This may have been the original amnesia romance film.
You Kill Me
Skip it. Wasted effort for all involved. A story like this is better told with unknown actors. I don't think any of these stars really felt invested in their roles.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Close Brush with Whitetail Deer at Fresh Pond
Noice day for a jog at Fresh Pond. Surely.
I started out at the Smith Place entrance and managed to maintain a snail's pace as I reached the section of road where the golf clubhouse and playing fields are. There's a steep, forested hill rising up from the pond which keeps the road in deep shade this time of day.
To my right I heard a crash and what do I see bounding down the hill but a full-grown, whitetail deer. She flies across the road maybe 15 feet in front of me and runs full tilt into the eight foot tall, chainlink fence at the water's edge. She bounces off the fence and falls to the ground, mouth agape; eyes wild with terror. She stumbles to her feet, wheels around and deliberately runs into the chainlink again, desperate to escape into the pond. She bounces off again and this time bolts back up the hill.
About 1/16 mile down the road I happen upon a park ranger. I stop and try to catch my breath and say, "I almost got tackled by a deer!"
She says, "a deer?"
I say, "A full grown deer. A female, I think. She ran right into the fence, bounced off it then ran into it again then ran back up the hill."
"Where did this happen," asks the ranger.
I tell her, "about a quarter mile back, downhill from the playing fields."
Ms Ranger waddles down the road the way I came. I notice her ass is the size of a beachball. Maybe two beachballs. You don't expect to see fat park rangers, even in the city.
If I had been another 10 steps further down the road this beastie may have collided with me. I would certainly have been injured. I guess it pays to go slow sometimes.
I came within a tenth of a mile of completing the loop around Fresh Pond. Cramps got me.
While exiting the park on the same path I used to enter, I look up at this massive sycamore tree
with an unusual T shaped crown. Sitting at the center of the T is a racoon the size of a spaniel. It took me a few seconds to be sure what it was. All I could see was this big gray lump but it was moving so I shouted, "HEY RICKEY!" He looked down at me and I laughed.
I started out at the Smith Place entrance and managed to maintain a snail's pace as I reached the section of road where the golf clubhouse and playing fields are. There's a steep, forested hill rising up from the pond which keeps the road in deep shade this time of day.
To my right I heard a crash and what do I see bounding down the hill but a full-grown, whitetail deer. She flies across the road maybe 15 feet in front of me and runs full tilt into the eight foot tall, chainlink fence at the water's edge. She bounces off the fence and falls to the ground, mouth agape; eyes wild with terror. She stumbles to her feet, wheels around and deliberately runs into the chainlink again, desperate to escape into the pond. She bounces off again and this time bolts back up the hill.
About 1/16 mile down the road I happen upon a park ranger. I stop and try to catch my breath and say, "I almost got tackled by a deer!"
She says, "a deer?"
I say, "A full grown deer. A female, I think. She ran right into the fence, bounced off it then ran into it again then ran back up the hill."
"Where did this happen," asks the ranger.
I tell her, "about a quarter mile back, downhill from the playing fields."
Ms Ranger waddles down the road the way I came. I notice her ass is the size of a beachball. Maybe two beachballs. You don't expect to see fat park rangers, even in the city.
If I had been another 10 steps further down the road this beastie may have collided with me. I would certainly have been injured. I guess it pays to go slow sometimes.
I came within a tenth of a mile of completing the loop around Fresh Pond. Cramps got me.
While exiting the park on the same path I used to enter, I look up at this massive sycamore tree
with an unusual T shaped crown. Sitting at the center of the T is a racoon the size of a spaniel. It took me a few seconds to be sure what it was. All I could see was this big gray lump but it was moving so I shouted, "HEY RICKEY!" He looked down at me and I laughed.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Trailer Park Boys
This show is every bit as funny as The Office UK, Curb Your Enthusiasm or anything else you'd care to compare it to. I have finished season five and I'm still hooked. Season four, episode two had me laughing so hard the tears were rolling down my face. Absolute genius.
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