The Coffee Guy's blog

Management by Mere Mouthing Monthly Digibonics

With the onslaught of media monitoring movements of moth eaten issues, I find it mind-bending that we have the appetite for such prattle.  What you knew yesterday, you will probably forget tomorrow, and what you learned today will be next week’s foggy bottom.  It’s no wonder that we have such awe when we hear about what the one minded ones come up with to study.

I say we study the studious.  Take “The Center for Intercultural New media Research”.  Please!

These schemlongs of the information age are promulgating educationism and perspicacity as it relates to the hunger we have for more of what we can forget before we get home because we had to stop for milk after we got gas while stopping for the daily newspaper which we heard had an article on the company you work for that produces widgets for the automotive market which is in serious trouble because of the world-wide technology revolution posited by a professor from Eastern Europe in a country recovering from a civil war with their ex- nasty tyrant on trial in the Hague which truly has no powers any more than your daughter who is dating that schlep from the other side of town who drives that Environmental Wacko Volvo and hugs so many trees his face is all chewed up from the bark. 

What did I stop here to pick up?

You don’t believe me?  And I quote from the esteemed aforementioned Center’s interweb thingy URL, “Study two explores text messaging within the US among African Americans and European Americans. It examines the social functions of text messaging within and across US co-cultures to illuminate the following questions: (1) Do African-Americans and Euro-Americans engage in interracial texting? (2) What is the content and language used (digibonics) of interracial text messages? (3) Do African Americans and Euro-Americans vary their content and language (digibonics) when text messaging within their co-culture rather than across co-cultures?”

Digibonics?  Did you read that? Ebonics?  Nitronics?  Nope, Digibonics.  Such a case of self-adulation should be banned!  No library would stoop so low as to admit this plonk into the stacks.

Here are more:

What coaching and quality assistance strategies related to quality rating improvement systems (QRIS) are being used to improve quality in early care and education programs and home-based settings?

The Gartner Predicts 2012 special report addresses the continuing trend toward the reduction of control IT has over the forces that affect it. As users take more control of the devices they will use, business managers are taking more control of the budgets IT organizations have watched shift over the past few years. Moving forward, IT departments will find that they must coordinate activities in a much wider scope than they once controlled.

Understanding the Web browser threat: Examination of vulnerable online Web browser populations and the "insecurity iceberg"

I could go on, but I feel too insecure.  Make it steam Charlie.  I need another coffee.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side.

 

Tis The Reason for this Folly

Fa la la la laaa  la la la la.

Con we now our wave a ‘tidal.  As the season truly finds it’s delft message in the corecto de politico movement, the erosion of the past is only surpassed by the line-ups at Wally World ( Sam Walton’ store).  Thou shalt not tread wherest thine brethren hast passed. 

This is for the most auspicious of us who can avoid the Blue in a staunch march against the lowest common denominator.  If I was a cussin’ man I would have had my guzzinta’s done by now.   Let me run you the numbers for ole Saint Nick’s sake.

Our continent:

One job, 40,000 Per year.  50 of these in one small manufacturing plant.  1,000,000 widgets at wholesale of $25 each.  Shipping, 20 loads on 53’ trailer. Average 1500 Kms , plus fuel, $3000 deliver costs.  Retailing Costs prior to sale$1.00 per unit,  Sale price $52.99 per unit.  Profit to manufacturer $2,000,000 before taxes.

Samuel’s way from off shore:

Reverse engineer, skip around copyrights, create widget plant in China $100,000.  Employ 200 people working 14 hours for 6 days and five hours on the seventh, wages, $2000 per year.  1,000,000 widgets at wholesale at 3.49 each.   Shipping via container $0.02 per unit.  Landed.  Shipping, 20 loads on 53’ trailer. Average 1500 Kms , plus fuel, $3000 deliver costs.  Retail pricing $34.99.

Now all seems well for the consumer right?  Until we do the numbers.

2,000,0000 wages in the locally grown version of the widget.  400,000 in wages off shore.   Income tax for the country, 560,000 dollars for the local manufacturing.  0 dollars income tax for the foreign stuff.

Total global economic activity for the continental composite. 80,050,000 dollars.  For the subcontinent built thingy, 39,006,000 total global economic activity.

State and retail taxes locally 6,358,800 for the home based product, 4,198,800 dollars for the offshore one.

And the pre-tax gross profit for the locally grown widget of 25,930,00 local dollars.  The import with wild Sammy Walnut, 30,974,000.

So not only does the blue behemoth make more profit, he pays less taxes, has less global economic activity, pays lower wages offshore, stimulates less economic activity locally with fewer local or states taxes paid, but he also has a net loss of continental wealth.

Let’s not have the blind leading the blithe down to the blue store any more than we have to!

Fa la la la laaa,  La la la la.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

 

Hot, Humid, Hazy Days in the Pan

Peter never stood in a mob serried or otherwise.  The sun beating down like a hammer on the anvil in a heat wave.  Pools busy amid stridently languishing bodies pulped to the beat of a new age wave.  The pan piped with H2O steaming off gallons of hydration from the plant and animal matters.

We coffee and curry ourselves off to work where other hot countries have siestas in that time of day and when danger abounds.  Is it our British mad dog mentality which warrants our work in the stink in hot days?  Air conditioning?  Whose vernacular is that we use for the depletion of heat in a small environment?  It is as if the air were ill with coolness.  Not merely absent of heat.  Houses occupy space in which we remove the heat destined for that space and time to be shunted outside for the less than cool to become more than hot.

The skin of the earth heats and cools as the seasons wax and wane through our lives.  Why do we not cook on the heat disposed of, or store it till winter?  Energy should be savoured and saved.  There is no crisis in energy, merely mismanagement. 

We could all have sequipedalian walls and still blow off more fossil fuel than an old eastern bloc resident.  We are beings of consumption.  We need to occupy so much of our time because we are led to believe we need so much.  I prefer the penumbra of cover and the air of the exterior.   Grow bigger trees and more of them.  Oh yeah we can get back the curse of curbs in our parking lots and the futility of spinning tires, but my discussion today relates not to this idiocy, but to the loathsome dipsomania we have with AC.  Not the current type but the current topic.

The displacement of heat must be the most inefficient thingy we do.  Cold, like energy, cannot be created.  It is merely changed from one form to another.  Get me a prodigious Jacaranda tree and a wisp of wind and I am good for the imbibition of the nectar of the Gods or even a nice cool one.  The thin layer we live in on the surface of this orb has nary enough space for what we are.  Now we insist on taking that which is inside constructed parts on the surface, and pushing all that we don’t like outside.  Again we exist for the prurience of desire rather than the grind of reason.

Get me a Java Joey, and make it hot!

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

MRI not MRE in a JIT Society.

The problem is not the solution to obfuscated operations on the floors of our Health Care system.  “What we have here is a failure to communicate”.  I am not a financial wizard by any means.  I am an “Operations” specialist.  On the table today is the health system we live with.  The problem is why it is dying.  What is causing it, and what can be done?

Not late last night I entered one of our esteemed domiciles of serendipitous kismet, (read Hospital).  At 6:30 PM the hollow hallowed halls were all but vacant but for a few languid laggards skulking about at hall corners and nursing stations.  No patients about, no doctors about, no cleaners about, no orderlies about, no nurses about; nothing about but opportunity.

The opportunity to maximize on the investment of space, equipment, training, and expertise lays waiting for 16 of the 24 hours available.  We use 1/3 of the capacity of most of these buildings.  Hospitals all but empty but for a few meagre patients they could not get out for day surgery. Empty but for a few tending nurses.  Empty but for the horror of tomorrow when the whole is to be stuffed into the third.  Empty but for the potential of billions of dollars of equipment and space invested.

What is the basic principle of optimization?  Use the same, for more.  Do you cognate for one simple instant that manufactures don't see the benefit of running three shifts?  You are John Galt and you invest 20 million dollars in a heavy metal stamping unit, you want that ram jamming 24/7.  In fact your business plan probably shows the best case scenario as such.

But nada!  Our highly paid, highly able, highly trained, highly educated, highly respected, highly revered, highly sought after administrators and politicians can’t see the obvious.  WORK MORE.  MORE LABOUR.  MORE TIME.  Our investment in equipment, technology, training, and buildings will pay off in spades.  I wanna see a Henry Ford type person bring in a second shift, or a third to our health care system. 

You think for one second that a person waiting for serious surgery would not think of coming in at 1:00 Am for a procedure rather than wait and suffer in pain for 18 months to wait for the same procedure?   Dream, incubate, gestate, promulgate, hanker, pine, dream up.  But for our health, just work! 

Why are restaurants open late?  Why are there 24 hour grocery stores?  Why are there 24 hour anything?  Because, they are maximizing on their investments.  It’s not rocket science.  Use what you have more.

I am hungry for more of less.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

Kingston, King’s Town, Calif City

The area, now a new not new to the area producer of poultry proffered for prurient passions of mastication.  The taters are not homers yet home runs are called each time they are eaten.  The local purveyors of such fare are of the finest mettle.

Clean, fast, and interested in the welfare of the customers.  They and them do not heed to the principle of the lowest common denominator.  They strive is for higher and better.  No shortages here.  The carapace stands to the front as a beacon to traveller sustaining the petro-chemical industry.  The golden beckons between the sub-terrainian sandwicheer and the modern day Five and Dime Jimmy Dean Jimmy Dean.

With new help from northern store to those of the Smoke, we do well with what we want.  Knowledge can be a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands.  No lefts for the right here.  We work as a team, for the team, and by the team.  Now with talented staff we back to the administrative of the trials vouchsafed in our trust.

With the Ig persona-non-gratta, we revel the day after.  No after now nooned the way to the next four years.  There is a challenge afoot for the Stever; he better put it together with Mechano or the world will come crashing down to the lowest common new democrat.  The Separtiste in our midst has vanished in the fog of infamy.  Taken 20 odd years to go from revolution to revulsion.

We dawn the new day with the rain washing the old away.  The dirt and scum runneth to the gutter of past and passé.

 A short stop close by as the coffee brews.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

 

The Watched Pot Never Grows, But Springs Ahead

In Greenwich they nominated for Spring coffee on February 25^th.  The earth shook, and the ground trembled.  But not in that sleepy town where whatnot turned to not what they did not do.  Nobody had a posting for the Spring Coffee Guy.  I toss my hat belatedly in that direction.

Now with more postings than I can be banned for, the last one only had a warning, Germany is still rated highest on my banned videos list, should I and perhaps not in jest this time, protesteth my abolishment for posting a family viddy?

Or perhaps find new ways of bolstering my position so couched in obscurity not to be found by the whole of Washington’s alphabet soup?  As I had doth and will further,  all the proclivities people have toward assuming that their non or real progeny or siblings or any other form or familia or genus might or might not be presently engrossed in Face Plant, I proffer my viddy materiel on every subscribed format  and media I am a member to.  (Never end a sentence prepositionally)

It’s a sad state of xenophobia when Demand Media drops my writing application like a Hot Banana.  However, I could conger a position in that less than esteemed habitué and sit back into a life of Reilly as I surf and write my way to the bottom of the lowest common denominator.  Pith and vinegar are obviously not on the menu at the Demanded writings of the “How To” crowds most desirous wants.

After all, I have been unacceptable, persona non grata, unwanted, superfluous to their needs, de trop, unseemly, invidious, unneeded, over the top, possibly not what we need, not a good fit, inessential, non-essential,  bombastic, unsought, supererogatory, unallowable, just plain unwanted, malapropos, and mostly palaverous and pleonastic at many a web site’s applications center.

Does that bother me?  Nopers.  It’s a cuz’in I can blather together my own straw man argument.  Do I need their 3 cents a word for contentious crap?  Nopers again on that account.  Thinkin’ I am un-connecting myself to the Guru as well.  Have offered a many proposal for scribbles and scribes, and with the odd negotiational e mail back and forth, nadda to come of it.

So I depart again from the unctuous trodding to the bottom of the lowest common denominator well of worthless content.  Past offers of guest columnists to this forum have also come up shy of a rational number.

Perhaps it’s back to Haiku on coffee?

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

 

 

Cursivity Croaked as the Canister Crinkled

While in motion, I had a notion to make a potion of innovation and observation.  When the newbies on the planet amass in halls of learning, a skip of the draught has left these Smucks without a Star.  The writing of yore has lest and less to be appreciated as the understanding of such cursive writing is not taught.

Yes they know what the letters mean and they know what the words mean.  But they for the life of them could not repeat the act even closely or incoherently as is mine.  While it has been postulated in my few years of cursivity, that my “hand” could not be deciphered by a college of surgeons, I still can and still do utter such astounding depictions of the written.

With a Jo close by, I can scribble out a litany of derision and discussion with the best of them.  No faster can you say Faceplant, than I can lay down enough ink to drain a well dipped stilo.  Whereas the young folk of the day, not back in it, are at a logger-head of deciphering.  Let alone scribbling their Hancock on a note, or old-style scratching out a signat’ on a cheque.

Here in the times of the keyboard, it’s not even called typing.  The olde IBM Selectric and dad’s old Underwood, had the same Quirky keys and odd config’ for a layout as these new silicone sisters have today.  The only difference is, we have flaccid pale fingers.  To merely touch and have a red key or a hot key seems eerily unnecessary.  Other than flaming a co-Qwertiest, what would the use of several fffffffffff’s or rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’ or bbbbbbbbbbbb’ be?

But no, I even have a nut of an American overseer inside the guts of the machine I plinkle on, running around through American spelling dictionaries playing around with my typos and misdeeds.  As if I don't know what I am cursing about!  Had I been doing this cursively, there need not bee any You Ess of Eh inside my ballpoint.  I could get away with noughts of thoughts without having to drop a You, or mispronunciate a French verb.

So when you can scratch out the seven deadly sins and the anthropologic basis of such in a cursive script faster than I can toe tip around this flatboard, then I will read your blog too.  Thanx for the seed DH.

 Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

 

Cold Coffee for Cold Thoughts

Who’d a thunk?  Well the Jo and Java crankers, Espresso and Cappa crowd, Turkish or Americano Europeaneates, or one of the five types of bean lovers never suspected a cold version.

First let’s take the aroma and image of coffee.  Without cup in hand, think it over.  First the swirling steam rising and the warmth of the waft as it caresses your septum entering your proboscis.  Is any of this possible if the water were cold?

Secondly let’s explore the possibility of getting the bean to release the tawny nectar using frigid water.   Well after a millisecond’s though let’s not wait that long. It will not happen. 

So one fine concessioner forgets to turn the heating element on, and serves a cold coffee through the thoughtless fingers of some adolescent “Barista”.  The laggard at hand actually likes it and comes back to mention this banality.  Next day, menu has a new item.  “Forgetful Coffee”.

Not a big seller and shoulda’ stayed that way.  Remarketed by some west-ender or east-ender if that is where the La La landers in your city reside.  Now not only is it made, it’s still claimed to be a Cuppa.

This trifle should be banned by national edict.  In fact, seeing as how I have the good Stephen’s ear, I think this may become high on the docket as we forge ahead in our sloth-like progress through the next session in sitting. 

Twenty cents of every dollar sold from this frigid formula will be remitted as a tithe of repentance to The Coffee Guy. Oh did I say that?  Sounds like a reason to push the sloth a little further down the branch.  And to any and all who foist this feather to their MP, they will receive meagre considerations after my trough diving is complete.

For those of the StarSchmuck’s bent, get over it.  Anything small and tall at the same time not being the CN Tower should definitely not be marketed as cold as well.  Injury added to the insult already might or might not henceforth or pre-posed to be deleterious to the brand being sustained.  Let’s get is straight even for those who litigate over the fact that coffee is a hot beverage.  It is not to be confused with colas or teas.  Ugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  I just expectorated.  Perhaps more facts than are warranted at this time of the day.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

I Berry and Black Pods

What have you seen that is Berry Berry pretty.  It is also a first person singular cellular.  Or have you dealt with the black side of iPodular life?

Hmm, in all this excitement, I seem to have lost count myself.  So you have to ask yourself, “Do you feel connected?”.  Twenty-five years ago, without the assistance of Cell Phones, E mail, Conway and his Twitter, Faceplant, MyTube, YourTube, Texting, Sexting, MSN, TSN, Ip’s, Ups, TLC, and almost any other sort of ethereal social medium, we survived.  Went to the Moon numerous times.  Lived.  Died.  Thrived.  Suffered.  Warred and Pieced.  (intentional spelling)

Yes, I am connected multifarious ways.  But I still step out.  Take it off the hook

Don't answer it.  Don't respond.  Don't take the thing with me.  Don't turn it on. 

It is possible.  Very few people actually die because they don't respond to an electronic prod.  No cattle were harmed in the posing of this blog.  Very few people have ever had a catastrophic episode because they forgot their thingy at home.  Very few people have been saved from mortal danger by a silicone chip carrier.  Are we all so paranoid and fearful form watching and getting Tweeted about the latest breaking news based on the gore principle?

Let’s deconstruct the average plastic and metal pocket gizmo and see what we possibly have in there that which could save us materially from peril.

The antenna.  More than likely a weak think filament.  Few phones actually have extending wire antenna any longer. 

The battery.  Not enough power in Amps to start a fire.  Not enough chemical to cause a burn.  Not enough heavy metal to be used as a lethal weapon.  Not strong or wide enough to stop those crushing sides of the ever shrinking elevator found in James Bond movies. 

The screen.  Too small to watch a  movie on even if the battery is charged.  Too thin to lever up the lid on the locked dungeon.  Not bright enough to signal an over flying plane when lost on a deserted isle.

The CPU.  Not running hot enough to start a fire.  Not enough lead to kill a Mockingbird.  Too small for using as a door stop.  Not enough wiring to tie up a robber.  Not really even enough silicone to seal up the water closet.

Step out and turn it off for an hour.  See the serenity of your ways.

So here I am on my own lil Silicone based RAM using device, plunking away on my TypePad type pad blogging about my twittering thoughts about Tubing my video out on the interweb thingy, all the while my Java Jo close at hand.

This DOES NOT happen with Tea drinkers.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.

 

Globalization of our Society is like Unanimity of the Masses

With us and them there are always two sides, one of them is always the other.  Up with that bro?  Down with my meaning?  Come over to my way of thinking.  Slip around to a better understanding.  How many ways can we be similarly different?

I venture that I have been down this road before.  One last Norse God divines a wine from a vine of his own.  From Gin Gin north on the Bruce,   the peninsula probes northward into that Iroquoian  lake, faced on one side by the promontory of Niagara.  Not a stiffening of the ridge but a Turkey of a Hungary Nepalese Yak.

Yak a Tee Yak, don't talk Balk. I mean Balkan.  As the world tours.  There has been this ditty passing through the aether of the interweb thingy about our global state.  Harumph.  There is at last recent count: I did it yesterday, 195 countries in the world.  Not the accepted 192, or countries signed up but not necessarily financially current in the UN.

So as a member of the club either you do or you do not have to pay your dues.  Duality encumbers the force of nature.  You naturally find you wended ways regardless of our global cake in which we are baked.  We the mixed gelatinous goop of society.  We make the decisions to pay or to not.  We decide we want the things on the shelves of pusillanimous merchandising gluttony.

The masses fact toward the unwanted and discarded of society.  There is more waste in the world than there is use.  I used to know a guy whose second cousin on his mother’s side had a friend whose brothers buddy had a thing.  It was the only one of its kind.  Now it resides in the Lesser Antilies more or less.

Its on the interweb for those who wanna ogle it.  Now whatever happened to friendly travel in the skies over the orb?  The skies have turned unfriendly, travel is via wire, sights are digital, and our experiences are ethereal.

Go out pick a daisy, touch someone.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land.