theoldwolf: (Default)

Dear Microsoft:

This is my system:

opsys

It looks pretty robust, don't you think?

1) THEN WHY THE HQIZ DOES WINDOWS LIVE MOVIE MAKER (chhxxxxtxxt-paTOO!) KEEP CRASHING WHEN ALL I WANT TO DO IS MAKE A 25-MINUTE MOVIE WITH THREE TITLES? THIS PROGRAM IS A PIECE OF CAMEL EJECTA!11!

2) Yes, my system came from Dell, pre-loaded with Win7 Pro... but WHY IN THE HQIZ DO I HAVE TO CALL DELL FOR SUPPORT? THE ISSUE IS WITH *YOUR* STINKING SOFTWARE.

3) For years you have foisted off such abortions as Windows NT, Windows ME, and lately Windows (chhxxxxtxxt-paTOO!) Vista onto the unsuspecting public, and despite almost universal opprobrium, no one at your company has ever had the cojones to step up and say "Yeah, we really up with those operating systems, we're sorry and we'll try to do better." Could it have something to do with the fact that you' think you're bigger than God, and you don't really care what your users think? If I were running your company and something like Vista ever slipped out the door, the next day's headlines would read

MICROSOFT FIRES ENTIRE DEVELOPMENT SECTION
CEO RESIGNS IN ABJECT APOLOGY

But no, all we ever get is customer service reps in India, weak-sauce explanations like "That's not a bug, it's a feature" or "It's obviously hardware's problem" or "You need to talk to the third-party developer of that software." Gah.

Never mind that your operating systems now have seven-gigajillionteen lines of code, all written by 500 different developers, none of whom is ever told what the guy in the next cubicle (or the next country) is doing.

By now, all my Apple-friends are screaming "Get a Mac!!!", my Linux-friends are screaming 'Ubuntu!!!" and both have merit, but sadly that doesn't solve my immediate problem. Truth is, I haven't got the money for a Mac or the time to surmount the open-source learning curve at the moment and I'm pretty well locked into the PC environment. And I'm frustrated with software that doesn't work, a company that makes it impossible to ask for help or provide feedback unless you pay, and useless error messages that are aimed at people who never made it past the third grade.

My experience of Microsoft Customer Support can be summed up in one word: This.

By the silken breast of Mogg's sainted mother, I really wish I could say "shibboleet" and talk to someone who a) knows what they're doing and b) gives a rat's south-40. As it is, I'm left with high blood pressure, no answers, and no help in sight.

But venting here has helped. Now back to my regularly-scheduled life.

theoldwolf: (Default)
To whom it may concern:

I lack sufficient adjectives to describe my dissatisfaction with your keyless chuck electric drills. I've owned two in the last several years, and both have the same problem: they won't hold the hqiz jævla drill bit.

What good is a drill if the hqiz jævla thing just spins around the bit, regardless of how tight I try to crank the chuck down?

I can guarantee you I will never buy one of these hqiz jævla pieces of again until you start making cordless drills with a key again.

No love,
-Me
theoldwolf: (Default)


That is all.
theoldwolf: (Default)
Corollary 42a to Murphy's Law of Construction

When exercising a new skill, say, re-grouting a tiled bathroom, the correct technique will always be found when 4/5 of the job has been done.

Corollary 42b

The correct technique will never be the one they tell you on the box.

theoldwolf: (Default)
(Newser) – A Massachusetts principal has banned an unlikely word from school grounds: meep. The nonsensical word—it's from the character Beaker on The Muppet Show—has for inexplicable reasons gone viral. Meep was such an epidemic at Danvers High—where students were using Facebook to plan a mass meeping—that principal Thomas Murray sent out an automated call to parents warning of immediate suspension to any student who uttered it. "It has nothing to do with the word," Murray tells the Salem News. "It has to do with the conduct of the students. We wouldn't just ban a word just to ban a word."

There's hope yet. If I can just get "hqiz" on the national stage...

theoldwolf: (Default)
Exodus 20:7 - Don't use the name of the Lord in vain. OK, I do my best on that one. Sometimes I slip. Especially when something jumps out at me in the dark.

Matt. 5:37 - Don't swear by anything in the heavens or the earth, but say what you mean - "yes", "no". OK, I'm pretty good on that one. My intention is to say what I mean, and do what I say.

But, like unsalted meat, or one of those never-sufficiently-to-be-accursed puffed rice cakes, language without color is flat and tasteless. So when one comes nigh unto breaking a toe, or whanging one's thumb with a hammer, or any number of other tear-jerking vicissitudes of life happens to happen, what does a weak soul, struggling to live in True Choice and act like a Compassionate Samurai, do for comfort?

In the heat of the moment, as one's thumbnail turns an angry red and black, and one's vision clouds with coruscating sparks of high-voltage energy, it's hard to talk like O. Henry or Eudora Welty. These people, among many, many others knew how to use language that fills the mouth and the soul at the same time. Thus far, I have found few things that are as satisfying as calling upon The Man Whose Middle Initial is Reputedly "H". But having been asked by Him not to do so, I've been constrained to look for other alternatives.

Enter Mogg, a fictional deity inspired by two comic strips by Bill Redfern and the late Paul S. Gibbs (Haul Trek, later morphing into Freighter Tails). The God of a race of felines with so many relatives and so many parts that one can never run out of things to swear by, and not lose a moment of sleep worrying that one might get smitten. By Mogg's tufted tail, by his diamond-tipped claws (with a tip of the hat to E.E. Smith's Klono), by the holy skull of his grandmother, and by the silken breast of his mother, finally I have things to say when words fail me and/or I wax less than poetic.

When a single word is all that's needed, "Hqiz" (pronounced /hqɪz/, with that voiceless uvular plosive in there) does very nicely, and like other Anglo-Saxon lexemes can function as multiple parts of speech. I've tried many other substitutes for an echoing, resounding scatological reference, but most of them have failed me. So this one is mine, and mine alone (Google it - mine is the only semantically significant hit) - thus it works. I can use it freely, and nobody is offended. Unless they have a filthy mind, for which I'm not responsible. In which case, by the fuzzy ears of Mogg's sister, they can shut the Hqiz up.

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