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So Much For Progress

Business, Technology

…at least when it comes to buying food:

A checkout-free Sainsbury’s branch has reinstalled its tills after just three months because customers chose to queue at the helpdesk to pay in the traditional way, rather than use the app.
The Holborn Circus shop was made till-free in April this year, with customers able to pay for products using the company’s app on their phone – in a drive to speed up shopping.
Shoppers download an app, called SmartShop then scan the barcode of the items they want to buy.
But the experiment resulted in long queues at the help desk, as people tried to pay for their groceries in the traditional way.

See, I know where this came from.  Some twerp in Finance looked at the staffing costs and recommended to Management that the company eliminate people altogether from their stores.
“But how do we do that?”  Management cried.
“Fear not,” said IT (or a $2,000/hour team of consultants from Bain, after a 2-year study), “We can just force people to use Technologeh!”

So now Sainsbury’s has had to re-install checkouts and hire staff — but the Finance / IT / consultant wizards are not dangling from lamp posts along Holborn Street, as would have happened under the reign of World-Emperor Kim.

And more’s the pity, methinks.

Gag Reflex

Food & Drink

This article sparked my interest simply because I have a personal “worst dish” (one I will never eat, under any circumstances):

Irish Stew

Seriously, just looking at the pic makes me gag.

It’s a strange thing because lamb is one of my favorite meats of all — if roasted or barbecued — but I think it’s the lamb fat released in the cooking of the stew which revolts me — after eating it, one’s mouth and teeth are coated in a furry slime which

Ugh, I can’t write anymore or I’ll puke.

So, Gentle Readers:  what’s your  won’t-eat-at-any-cost dish?

Another Modernized Failure

Drive Time

I have written before about auto companies relaunching beloved older models, but in modern (post-modern?) shape and form.  To remind everyone of the concept:

Now comes Land Rover, who sold their soul company to some furriners, only to have said furriners turn around and re-release a model long ago discontinued by the British Land Rover (for reasons which escaped me then, and still do).  I speak of course of the peerless Defender model, as exemplified by the one owned by The Englishman, Stout Bulldog that he is:

In that Defender’s place comes the newer version, to the universal acclaim of journalists and the undiluted scorn of the people who are in the target market of prospective purchasers.  Even better [eyecross], the New-N-Improved Defender is made not in Britishland, but in Slovakia.

I’m not going to post any pics of the new version because copyright hucksters and asshole lawyers (some overlap), but follow the link above and form your own opinions.  (Spoiler:  it’s the one that looks like a 4×4 New Mini.)

Now all that said:  maybe the new Slovo-Defender provides a more comfortable ride than the Anglo-Defender — it could hardly be less  comfortable, and I speak as one who has driven from Wiltshire to Scotland and back in Mr. Free Market’s Defender, as well as from Wiltshire to Cornwall and back in The Englishman’s one, and have the distressed kidneys to prove it.  But that’s not the point of a Defender, is it?  I mean, one could (technically speaking) drive a Caterpillar bulldozer from Wisconsin to Iowa along the interstate highway system, but that’s not what it was designed for.

However, I rather think that I’m missing the point.  I bet that the target market is not members of the farmer-Stout Bulldog Set [massive overlap]  such as The aforementioned Englishman and Mr. Free Market.  Instead, the new owners of Land Rover are aiming for the suburban / urban middle class, purchasers of “utility” vehicles such as the Porsche Macan, BMW X3 and Audi Q5 (vehicles referred to in Britishland as “Chelsea Tractors” and in north Texas as “Plano Off-Roaders”, for obvious reasons).

And this was written in all seriousness:

“…down the toilet.” FIFY

Anyway, the reaction of existing Defender owners to this new product can best be summed up from a joint communique issued by Mr. Free Market and The Englishman via my email:

“Looks like we’ll be holding onto our old Defenders for some time to come.”

Oops.

Unfair

Men & Women

LOL I see that Monopoly is getting in on the War Between The Sexes:

Hasbro has introduced the first Monopoly that celebrates women trailblazers
Aimed at players 8 years old and up, properties are replaced by groundbreaking inventions and innovations made possible by women throughout history
Players are told ‘Collect 240 salary as you pass GO, if you’re a man collect 200’
Women also get a $1,900 at the start, compared to $1,500 for male players
Tokens include a pen, jet, glass, a watch, a barbell, or Ms. Monopoly’s white hat
Ms. Monopoly celebrates everything from scientific advancements to everyday accessories – including WiFi, chocolate chip cookies, and solar heating
Players of any gender can build business headquarters around the board to collect more money from others
In hope of inspiring others, it spotlights women who challenged the status quo

To make the thing even more true to life, CHANCE cards should include ones like:

  • “Congratulations on your divorce!  Collect your free house on Boardwalk*” or
  • “Congrats on your new baby!  As you aren’t sure of its paternity, collect $500 from each male player every time you pass GO” or
  • “You accuse someone of sexual harassment at your job.  Collect $50,000** from the bank” or
  • “You were caught shagging one of your students, a fifteen-year-old boy.  Go straight to jail.  (Just kidding;  get three extra rolls of the dice)”

The funniest part of all of this is that the more Ms. Monopoly is tilted in Teh Grrrls’ favor, the fewer men will want to play this poxy game — which will no doubt cause women to write weepymoany articles in Salon or HuffPo about how men are shunning them.

*Mayfair, in the Brit version

**I know $50,000 would bankrupt the Monopoly bank and end the game.  So?

Eye Witness

Terrorism

From Reader Mark D, an account of 9/11:

September 11, 2001 was a beautiful fall day.  The sky was blue, the day was mild. I’d gotten up a little late that morning.  My wife suggested that I should take the later train (about 40 minutes later), but I really wanted to stop in Borders Bookstore in the World Trade Center that morning.  I did that once every couple of weeks, just to browse thru the books.  So I pushed myself out the door, drove to the train station, and caught my usual train which took me to Hoboken, NJ.  From there I took the Path train to the World Trade Center, but completely forgot that I wanted to stop at Borders, and entered the Courtlandt St subway station.  After I paid my subway fare I remembered that I’d intended to stop at Borders, but decided that I’d either stop tonight on the way home or tomorrow morning.  The time was about 8:10. I got my usual R train and headed into Brooklyn, just as I had every work day for the last several years.  I arrived, as usual, at my desk at about 8:30.

About 9:00 a co-worker came in and told us that a plane had apparently hit the World Trade Center, that he saw the smoke on his way in.  We turned on a radio and heard that a small plane had hit the North Tower.  It seemed like an accident.  As the news rolled in, we learned that it was a passenger jet, not a small plane, that hit the tower.  Then the South Tower was hit.  Then there were reports of a plane hitting the Pentagon.  I called my wife to tell her I was OK, she said they were watching the news on a TV.  I thought it was a little odd that she didn’t seem concerned about me since my commute took me thru the World Trade Center, but I decided not to press the issue.

A few of us decided to walk down to the East River to see what was happening, when we got there my first impression was that there was a lot of paper in the air, apparently sucked from the towers.  There was a huge hole in the North Tower, full of flames.  The South Tower was partially hidden from view by the North, but it was obvious that it was burning too.  We were too far away to see the people falling, we didn’t hear about that until later.

At this point I was thinking that the fire department would evacuate the buildings, put out the fires, and then something would need to be done to repair the towers.  It never occured to me that the towers might be too badly damaged to repair.  Then the South Tower (or what I could see of it behind the North Tower) sort of tipped at the top, then collapsed in a rain of dust and debris.

I didn’t have another coherent thought for the rest of the day.  I couldn’t stay there anymore, we left, headed back to our office building, where we found that the building (a New York City municipal building) was evacuated and locked down, we weren’t allowed back in.  We met up with our manager, and we all went to her apartment a few blocks away.  On the way I stopped in a store for a bottle of soda and learned that the North Tower had collapsed, but I was numb at that point.  I remember repeatedly thinking “This day needs to be over.”
Since New York City was pretty much locked down I couldn’t get home, so I and some others spent the night at our managers apartment.  The next morning we decided not to open, and by then the transportation system was functioning, so I headed for home via the Path train in Mid-town Manhattan.  Everyone I saw on the way home had a thousand-yard stare, like they were in shock.  From the train I could see the smoke rising from where the towers had been, that column of smoke would be part of the landscape for a long time.
I arrived home in the early afternoon.  My wife arrived home from work at her usual hour.  As we talked about the events of the previous day I mentioned that I’d been in the basement of the World Trade center a half-hour before the first plane hit.  She sat bolt upright and said “You were WHAT?” She’d completely forgotten that my daily commute took me thru the World Trade Center, which was just as well or she’d have been beside herself with worry.

Do not forget what happened that day.  Do not forget what you were doing, where you were.  Do not forget that three thousand people who did nothing more sinister than show up for work or ride a plane died that day.  Do not forget that those people were murdered, they did not die in a natural disaster.  Do not forget who murdered them.

Can’t (and won’t) add a single thing.  Thank you, Mark.