still doing crazy things…

So last week, I wrote Viking Fridays as usual, hit publish, and then disappeared… thankfully, there were a lot of Vikings around to strike up a great conversation and keep things going until I returned.

Thank you, Viking friends.

What was I doing?  Was work getting me down?  Was I stuck in meetings, with no possibility for escape?  Did I drink the Folgers by accident, losing my mind forever?

No way!

I had decided to take the day off.  I went to do something crazy.  I took a Mitsubishi Evolution MR for a test drive… the very one you see in the photo.

No, I didn’t buy it – hey, it was over $50,000, and unless I sell one of my kids, I won’t be buying it tomorrow (pssst – anyone want to buy a kid?  They’re cute and they don’t eat much…)

But let me tell you, it was a lot of fun.  This is probably the fastest thing I’ve ever driven, and I’m hoping the salesman will forgive me for going 140 in a 40 zone, but I just couldn’t help myself… it was just that easy.

(That’s 140 km/h in a 40 zone, so about 87 mph in a 25 zone south of the 49th… hmm, I wonder if I can get in trouble for admitting that here?  Oh well…)

Okay, it was a little selfish pleasure and not something I really need.  I could say truthfully that I already have more “stuff” than I need.

I was just satisfying that part of me that likes to drive fancy cars – hey, I’m a motorhead and I always have been.  Francis understands…

(Lion, you wanted to know how it drove – in a word – INSANE.)

Then I decided to do something even crazier.  Something that might just satisfy a real need, a need to do some work that means something to me.

I had this idea a while back to do some niche blogging and maybe even blog consulting in my industry (thank you to Amy Derby for the inspiration).  I had contacted “the right person”, I had “gone through the proper channels”, and I basically got the brush off.

I felt like a cog.

So I did something crazy.  I emailed my idea to the CEO of the company.  I have nothing to lose.  Hey, it worked for J Allard of Microsoft back in 1994 – he wrote a pretty ballsy memo to senior execs, and he’s a VP today.

I’ll let you know how it works out.

It just seems like a good time to do crazy stuff.  Fall is coming, and it’s a great time to take inventory of our blessings, let go of things that have held us back, and move forward.

I’ve got more in store – but I’ll let my actions speak for me.

Watch this space.

(‘Cause I’m gonna buy that car…)

they live.

The man set the dial to 138.225 MHz, one of the federal emergency frequencies, and keyed the microphone.

“Hello – this is the Factory calling, we’ve been taken over by a hostile cybernetic organism and we need assistance.”

Silence from the other end.  An open circuit, with no one there to close it.

“What the frak is going on?” said the man.

“How could this have spread so quickly from the Factory to the outside?”

The lovely lass smiled, and said, “But you know, dear, and you’re always the first one to say it, the Factory is always *the last* place on earth to get anything… so perhaps it didn’t come from inside here.”

“Brilliant, as usual, my dear.”

*BANG*

“What the frak was that?” they both said.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

The pounding sound was coming from the door to the outside world, opposite the door from the tunnel.

“Zombies do *not* knock – it has to be someone else with a brain!” said the man, excitedly.

Quickly working the controls to the video screen, he maximized the feed from the camera just outside the stairway to the world above.

A familiar shape took form on the display – a stout, friendly man with a beard, wearing sunglasses, carrying a very large and bloodied chainsaw, and a shotgun.

“Sunglasses?  That’s strange, Schmiar never wears sunglasses…”

Viking axe on standby, the man opened the door.

Schmiar literally exploded into the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Schmiar!  What are you doing here?”

The crazy fisherman said, “Stupid meeting brought me to the site, but no time for that, put on these sunglasses and tune that baby to CNN!”

Though he was puzzled, the man trusted his friend, for they had shared many pints by the bonfire.

Shades in place, he brought CNN onto the telescreen…

“Wha?!?!?!?!?  By the gods, what is that?”

Laughing maniacally, Schmiar replied, “That would be feed from the Presidential Debate… as we always suspected, these guys are not human… and it gets worse, change the channel and see what’s on the other stations…”

A quick click of the left mouse button brought up a live feed from CBC - the pride of Canada.  Blame Canada.

The advertisement showed a cityscape, and with the glasses on, a grey distopia full of subliminal messages, just as you see above, faithful reader – yet, glasses off, the image was of happy people going about their business on a beautiful summer day.

“How the hell are they doing this?” the man asked in dismay.

Schmiar’s brow furrowed as he said, “Nearest I can figure, they’ve been doing this for some time, putting up all this subliminal stuff as they infiltrate our society.  They’ve been covering it up with some kind of wacko radio transmissions, until they were able to poison our coffee supply.  Whatever’s in the coffee does nothing unless you’re being bathed by these radio signals.”

(Schmiar, you see, had a Ph.D. and spent a lot of time thinking about these kinds of things.)

“And here’s the best part – remember the SUMAC project that was just cancelled?  You always said they had other plans for it, and you were right.  Well, that’s where the radio signals originate, as far as I can tell… it must beam up to orbit from that antenna array on the roof of the building.  Because we always get everything last, the government decided to run this from here, as no one would suspect it!”

The man scratched his chin…

“I know who’s orchestrating the whole thing, Schmiar.  It’s the Demon Queen, and she’s running the whole op out of The Cell.”

The lady, who had until this moment been silent, said “Well then boys, we’ve got to get to the roof of the SUMAC and destroy that array – I’ll take that shotgun, Schmiar.  We’ll need it, as there’s no tunnel from here to the SUMAC.  Once they don’t have the cover of the radio signals, we can go after the Demon Queen.”

The man said, “Alrighty then – today’s a fine day to die – on three?”

Schmiar smiled as he put his hand on the door, and said “Three.”

–

Yes, I know I said last week that today would be the conclusion, but this is just too much fun… stay tuned for more tales of alien cyberzombie politicians from Planet X…

(Pictures from They Live, 1988, Alive Films)

viking fridays – be sparing of speech.

Of his knowledge a man should never boast,
rather be sparing of speech
when to his house a wiser comes;
seldom do those who are silent make mistakes.
- The Hávamál

Once again, a great piece of work from the Friar – I think I saw something like that at the cafeteria the other day.

Yet another case of someone who had started as a regular Joe, who had spent a few years greasing the right palms, pushing ahead and now telling everyone about all the great things “he” had done – conveniently forgetting everyone who helped him get there in the first place.

So what are the Vikings telling us today?

(Other than to push little old ladies out of the way to get to the food… you can bet that’s not Friar’s mom, because she’d probably have some words for our Viking friend…)

We’re all great at something.  In fact, there is something that you can do that no one else can do better – and if you can figure out what that is, watch out world – you’ll be unstoppable!

BUT – be humble.  Be proud, but not boastful.  Don’t forget the people who have helped you along the way.  Your parents.  Your teachers.  Your ministers.  Your friends, in the real world, and out here.

That’s why link posts can be a good thing.  I’ve not done one for a while, so consider this a big thank you to each and every single person who has been with me along the way.

Really.

Thank you.  Each and every one of you.

I believe it is very important to do that from time to time, because if you look hard enough, you can find people who came out of nowhere, just like we all did, rose to “stardom”, and then seemed to forget all of those who helped them to get there in the first place.

It is one thing to do that in the real, physical world, and it is a completely different story out here on the web.

The web is a harsh mistress.  She forgets nothing.

So – be proud of what you do, be positive, for you will accomplish all that you set out to do – but don’t forget to be humble.

the thing that should not be.

An eternity passed as the coffee pot followed a parabolic trajectory from her hand to the floor.

All eyes in the adjacent room were on the shattered carafe, or more precisely, the contents.  And as the braindead owners of those eyes were busy lapping up the ichor they so craved, the two slipped silently around the corner, down the stairs and into the catacombs.

“Achtung, baby…” said the man, as he stepped into the tunnel, knees slightly flexed, Viking axe on hot standby.

Dust – an inch of dust on the floor, and no footprints.

“Perfect… that’s the good thing about the Factory, no one knows where anything is anymore… so we should be safe down here.”

Hand-in-hand, the man and his lady moved swiftly and silently towards the bunker, towards temporary salvation.  As they reached what seemed to them to be the midpoint, the lady stopped and cocked her head.

“A tone – I hear a tone from outside.”

“What do you mean?”, said the man, too deaf to hear it from too many years of Viking metal shows.

“It sounds like something is being broadcast over the outdoor PA system, but it isn’t anything I’ve heard before.”

“Perhaps we will find the answer within the bunker”, said the slayer of the undead.

One final corner at the end.  Skull-splitter in striking position, muscles itching to fire, the man quickly peeked around the corner, then took one step back.

“Clear!”

The two stepped up to the entrance, and the lady produced the key.

“Too bad we don’t have any more Folgers, my darling…”, said the man.

“Well, Mr. Bunyan, you’ll just have to cut down the whole zombie forest then… I hope that thing is sharp.”

“As a razor, my queen…”

Slowly… silently… she turned the key in the lock, and then opened the door.

Empty.  Perfect…

Closing and locking the door behind her, she ordered her man to secure the room.  He did a quick sweep of the perimeter, gleaming axe ready to split any zombie brain buckets it encountered.

Checking that the other door was locked, he said, “Only two souls in this room… let’s fire up the computers, milady.”

And she knew exactly what to do, as she’d had a tour of the bunker only a few weeks before.  She quickly made her way over to the master control – a BIG RED BUTTON!

*CLICK*

A droning sound filled the room, as the computers and projectors sprang to life – and then, slowly, the pictures came into focus on the screens across the room.

The brain-eaters were all moving inwards… following a rhythmic tone, the same one the lady had heard… towards a building known as “The Cell”.

The man’s jaw dropped open… he *knew* at that moment who was behind it all… though he hoped he was terribly mistaken… and his fingers quickly worked the controls, to bring one particular camera feed from the periphery to the main screen.

And there she was.  The Demon Queen.  And yet, something was different… the “management training” was complete…

The thing that should not be.  A horrific vision of a zombified cybernetic organism sat on a throne in the heart of The Cell.

“Frak me gently with a chainsaw“, said the Viking warrior.

“It all makes sense now… the infiltration was slow and calculated.  First, computers and cell phones, then CrackBerries and bluetooth headsets…”

Around the dark queen stood her minions – middle-management cyberzombies, bending to her every wish, linked to the hivemind through the marvels of modern digital communication.

The mind-altering coffee was needed to control the minions, the legion of workers who were not “privileged enough” to have a digital ball and chain.

“What are we going to do now?”, asked the brave lass.

Reaching for the radio transmitter, the man said:

“Nuke the entire site from orbit.  It’s the only way to be sure.”

–

Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion to the cyberzombie mayhem… same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.  And don’t forget to press the BIG RED BUTTON!

PS – this episode was late due to an unscheduled interruption from some of my favourite Viklings… “Daddy, can we go for a bike ride?”

viking fridays – naked, i was a nobody.

Two wooden stakes stood on the plain,
On them I hung my clothes,
Draped in linen, they looked well born,
But, naked, I was a nobody.
- The Hávamál

The Vikings.  Wise men of the North.  Who knew they were more than horned helmets, axes and severed heads?

I’m sure eventually I’ll run out of quotes from the Hávamál, yet it continues to amaze me… obviously our society has done nothing but plagiarize the works of the Norsemen.

No wonder they got ticked off and went pillaging…

Save us, oh Lord, from the wrath of the Norsemen indeed.

So what are they saying this week?

The clothes make the man.

Mark Twain said it like this:

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.

(Was Mark Twain a Viking?  Or were the Norsemen after his head for stealing their words?)

And how true that can be, during a job interview, a performance appraisal, or just your day-to-day dealings with people.

Even on the weekend, I tend to shave every day and try to dress well.  You never know – that lady you saw standing in line at the coffee shop – she might be interviewing you next week.  Or she might be your next client.

So if you’re going out to chop heads this weekend, make sure your sword is polished (shut up Friar), colour coordinate your belt and your tunic, and make sure your helmet sits straight upon your head.

Now – watch this video (warning: crazy Viking metal), and go kick some ass.

so you’ve got yourself a gmail account – now what? backup!

Gmail.  It’s cool.  You can use it anywhere.  It has great search functionality built-in.  It has a great spam filter.  It will even do your taxes for you.

Okay, I made that last part up.

But one thing I won’t make up is this – all your base are belong to Google.

So if Gmail goes down, or if Google decides one day, “Don’t be evil?  Frak that!”, then your email is not your email at that moment.

Unless you’re smart.

And you are smart, because you’ve enabled IMAP in Gmail and you have a locally synchronized copy of your mail.  Monika talked about wanting something like this in her Office Setup post.

(What’s Brett been smoking, you ask?  I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about!)

Backups are very important – as Harry and Melissa have shown us this year.  (Sorry guys, I’m not picking on you, honest!)  And if you use Gmail, a good way to backup everything is to enable IMAP and use an email program on one of your computers as a local mirror.

Here’s what you do.

Just go and visit “Getting started with IMAP for Gmail” – read through it, and start by clicking on “enable IMAP in Gmail” – that part is really easy.

Once IMAP has been enabled in your Gmail account, then go back and follow the “configuration instructions” for your email program of choice.  Really, just about any email program will do.  I chose to use Mail on my MacBook Pro as it came with the machine, and I’ve never used Mail before.  I wanted to try something new and learn about it.

If you don’t know what to use, you could use whatever is on your computer right now (Outlook Express, or Outlook, or Windows Mail if you have Windows, or Mail if you have a Mac like me).  Or you could download Thunderbird and try that (it’s the email program from the folks who make Firefox).  I used it for many years and it is very good.

In any case, just follow the instructions for what you are using, and before you know it, you’ll have an IMAP-enabled email program on your computer with a local backup of your Gmail.

Just remember to start up the email program once in a while to synchronize everything!

What if you don’t use Gmail, but Hotmail, for example?  I’m not sure if Hotmail allows IMAP, but I do believe if you use Windows Live Mail you can pull mail down from your Hotmail account that way.

As always, if you have any questions about this, email me at brett DOT legree AT gmail DOT com and I’ll be here to help.

eyes.

Hundreds of eyes were locked on him.

Mere seconds had passed since the man threw his chair through the window, and stepped out, Viking axe in hand, to face the unknown.

And they could smell him.  They could smell his brains…

Though they were slow, the undead legions would close in on him were he foolish enough to stay exposed.

The man, however, was no fool.  He had worked at the Factory for nearly a decade, and boredom had given him an intimate knowledge of the geography.

With one fearsome chop, his Viking axe sang the funeral dirge for the solitary corpse standing between him and the interior parking lot.

Salvation, camouflage, cover, row upon row of cars and trucks.  And no brain-sucking necro-bastards…

(I mean, no one would be out in the parking lot at coffee time!)

He would not have much time.  Though unseen, they could smell him.  And they were moving ever closer.

A side note, for those unfamiliar with zombies – their strength lies in numbers of course, and in the assumption that their prey is insanely stupid enough to allow themselves to be surrounded.

They do not attempt to flank, or ambush, their victims.  They only move straight ahead.

Fail.  Man 1, zombies 0.

The man had studied mathematics for many years, and moved in a tangential fashion away from the undead ones, through the parking lot, up along a ridge, finally popping out at the back of his faithful’s office building.

He scaled the back wall like a tormented animal – not difficult, considering that most of the buildings at the Factory were in a sad state of disrepair, with many impromptu hand and footholds – and smashed through the window, careening off a table and just missing the evil coffee pot!

He greeted his lovely wife.

“Hello, my darling – now what?”

His mind raced.  Time stood still.  How would they escape to warn the outside world?  Though their car was just outside in the parking lot, there were other problems.

Serious problems.

You see, Factory security guards drink a lot of coffee.

And they also carry automatic weapons…

Zombies with machine guns!

(Sounds like a Plasmatics album…)

Escape was not an option.  The only logical choice was to get to “the bunker” – a room used during site-wide emergencies as a command and control centre.

Within the bunker, a radio.  Dozens of networked computers, with displays for cameras all around the site.

And…

Vault-like fire doors, that could be barred from inside.  Food.  Filtered air.  Emergency power.

Yes.

The man’s mind frantically calculated the odds of survival for multiple pathways to the bunker, when suddenly, calmly, his wife provided the solution.

For you see, she was smarter than he – and just as bored, she absorbed all things while she toiled at the Factory.

“There is a passageway through the catacombs of this building, to the bunker.  And I have the key.”

The man smiled, then said, “But how are we to get past our ‘friends and colleagues’ outside your office door, and then to the stairs?”

“Simple”, she replied, “As I waited for you, I was examining the pot of coffee – as I moved it, the eyes outside my window followed it.”

“You, my darling, are a genius.  You throw the pot, and I’ll cut down anything in our path that isn’t chasing the Folgers…”

Steady, steady…

“On three”, said the man.

Hand on the door, she smiled, and said, “Three!”

–

Will our heroes be able to radio for help?  And will help arrive in time?  Will they uncover those responsible for this nefarious plot?

Tune in next week to find out!

viking fridays – never lift your eyes.

Never lift your eyes and look up in battle,
Lest the heroes enchant you,
Who can change warriors
Suddenly into hogs.
- The Hávamál

The message from those crazy Vikings comes through loud and clear this week, especially to me.  As if they are talking directly to me.

Never lift your eyes and look up in battle.

I am guilty of that.  I know what I want, I know how to get it.  And yet, I lift my eyes.  Not because of my family, or my work.  No, because I have this terribly fertile mind that always comes up with new ideas.

A mind that needs a big Viking boot in the “mind-ass” to keep it focused on the important things.  On my goals and dreams.

As the Little League coach says, “Keep your eyes on the ball, son.”

See, I would have been the kid who got hit by the ball, because I’d have been busy chatting with the spider crawling across home plate.

(Hey, spiders are cool, okay?)

Never lift your eyes, lest the heroes enchant you.

The heroes might be real people – could be hucksters, could be well meaning folks, could be jealous folks – family, friends, naysayers.  Doesn’t matter.

Never lift your eyes and look up in battle.

I mean really, who wants to be changed into a hog?  For what is a hog, but a side for scrambled eggs.

Chatting back and forth yesterday at Writer Dad in the comments, I got to thinking.  One thing I really need to do is finish my book.

November is coming.  NaNoWriMo.  National novel writing month.  What a great time to push on my manuscript.  To keep my eyes focused on the battle.  So I’m toying with the idea of pre-writing my posts for November, and basically taking the month to write.

Sure, I’d check in from time to time to delete the Viagra spam, but otherwise, I’d be writing.

I think that might just be what I need to do.

Maybe some of you are also writing a book.  Maybe you’re working on something else.

Why don’t we all focus on the battle?  You could join me in November and do it then, or you could start today.  Note, I’m not going to put my writing on hold until November – I’m just thinking it might be a time for a real push.

Let’s all charge into battle, and keep our eyes down, focused.

Let’s all be like the Viking in the middle of Friar’s cartoon.  Not like the guy on the left.  Okay, you can be like the gal on the right if you like, she seems pretty cool.  But the guy on the left, not good.

Tomorrow: more tales of zombie horror at the Factory…

things i learned from sharkboy and lavagirl.

Today, I’m taking a page from Writer Dad – why not, he’s a cool guy – and I figure, I have four kids, and I’m a writer, so I’m sort of a writer dad in my own way!

My kids’ current favourite movie is “The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl” – it seems to play non-stop at our house.  It has a happy story and appeals to our 7-year old as well as our 4-year old triplets.

On the surface, a kids movie – but having watched it a few times, there is more to it.

Amazing what you can learn from a children’s story.

“Everything that is or was, began with a dream…”

-Lavagirl

This, within the first 30 seconds or so of the movie.  It made me think, the first time I really paid attention to it.

We all have dreams.

My dreams are to become a writer, and to live in New Zealand.  Well, I am currently writing this blog, and I’m working on my book about my wife, my hero.  So I guess that dream has already become a reality.

I am a writer.

Eventually, I will be a published writer, like many others.  I believe it.  My draft manuscript will be finished within a few months.

And we’ve been to New Zealand, for a visit – we continue to work towards this dream.  Every week, we progress.

We will get there.

That leads right into the next line that struck me -

“You must keep moving to survive.  Always go forward, never back.”

-anonymous shark

True, isn’t it.  Always go forward, never back.  Don’t live in the past.  Live in the present, look to the future.  Keep alive the memories of the good, of what you’ve learned, but don’t dwell on the unpleasant things that may have happened in your past – you survived them, and you can’t change them anyway, so let go of them.  Learn from them, by all means, but always go forward.

All this, within the first five minutes of the movie.

My kids watch this movie over and over again, and you know what?

With messages like that, I don’t mind.

So there you have it.  You don’t need to go out and buy the latest personal improvement book – just watch a children’s movie, or read a children’s story.

Tomorrow: more hard-hitting Viking words of wisdom!

Saturday: The zombification of the Factory continues – will the man and his lovely wife escape with their brains intact?

(Photograph – The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl, Dimension Films, 2005.)

george a. romero, inc.

It was a dull grey Friday morning.

The man walked slowly back to his car.  He had forgotten his ID lanyard, which all Factory employees were required to wear.  The lanyard also included various pieces of Factory propaganda – mission statements, mottos, safety tips.  Helpful stuff.  Like how to walk on ice.

And the keys to his office.  There had to be a practical reason for wearing it, after all.  The man prided himself on being an “island of practical” in a “sea of ignorance”.

With lanyard in hand, the man turned and surveyed the Factory site before him.  He marveled at how it looked like something from the 50’s – shades of grey, under a grey sky – only the distant trees provided a splash of colour.

Of course it looked like something from the 50’s – it was something from the 50’s…

The man sighed, and began the long walk to his office.  At least it was literally all downhill from the parking lot.

A warm feeling came over the man, and he felt faint.  He blinked, opened his eyes, shook his head, blinked again.

“Whoa.”  (I know kung fu.)

Now even the trees seemed grey.  And the birds had stopped singing.

The man thought, “Too much beer at Friar’s last night.”  He pulled a long drink out of his coffee mug.  A little piece of home, untainted by the Factory.

“Strange”, he thought, as he approached his office building.  “Everyone seems to be walking in circles more than usual today.  It must have been a good time at the prefab pub last night.”

They also seemed to be muttering something.  The man could barely hear it, but it sounded like “Train… train…….. train…”

“Well, hockey school is starting up soon”, he thought.  Nearly everyone at the Factory played hockey.  Many held on to a dream that their kids could actually escape the Factory’s clutches that way.

But no NHL scouts had been seen in the area for years… fools!  Doomed to work at the Factory, forever!  The man, however, had other ideas…

The man passed through the double doors, turned right and went down the stairs to his office.  He tried not to laugh at the sign above the stairs.

“Locked.  My co-worker must be sick today”, he mused.  As he keyed open the door, he noticed a congregation of faithful Factory workers down by the coffee room.

“Train… train……. train…”

As the man didn’t care to hear about hockey school, he pushed his door shut, not bothering to take off the automatic lock.

This small action probably saved the man’s life.

As the man’s computer woke from hibernation, the telephone broke the monotony.

“You’ll never believe what’s going on over here!”, the man’s wife said.  “It’s like everyone’s lost their *brains* today…”

Brains.  Now it all made sense.

The man dropped the phone, and grabbed the fire Viking axe from outside his door.

“Brains… brains…….. brains…” said the faithful, as they moved towards the man’s office.

The man slammed the door and picked up the phone, as his wife continued.

“They’re making me resubmit 71 documents because *the template* has been updated!  Never mind that the content is correct, it’s more important that *the template* is the correct one!!!  Doesn’t anyone have any *brains* around here?”

The man said, “No.  Something’s happened here today – have you had any coffee?”

“No, other than the coffee we brought in with us today.  Why?”

The man continued, “Good.  Don’t drink anything – they’ve put something in the water, to turn us all into zombies.”

For as everyone knows, zombies make perfect corporate slaves for companies like the Factory.  Zombies do not question useless, counterproductive procedures and processes.  And zombies have no use for their brains…

“Lock your door, lock your windows, and stay put – I’m coming to get you.”

The Factory zombies were by now clawing at the door…

The man threw his chair through the window, and with Viking axe in hand, proceeded out into the unknown.

“I’ve got a lot of heads to chop, and this axe is hungry…”

—

Will our heroes escape the clutches of the Factory?  Tune in next time!

Until then – don’t be a zombie.  Use your brains.  Before it’s too late…

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