There continues to be an extinction-level event of epic proportions over on the SciFi.com bulletin boards. The forum administrators continue, it seems, the do everything in their power to kill off the membership . . . or, at least, do absolutely nothing to correct the mistake they initiated that is making it impossible for people to actually use that forum.
It really must be a wonderful thing to have a job in which you can get away with just sitting on your ass, doing nothing.
Oh, hell, it's just a stupid internet bulletin board, right? In the vast scheme of things, this ranks somewhere well below even mildly important. Who cares that the people running it have screwed things up so badly you can't access the forum? But that isn't the point. Because no one over there who is actually getting paid to make sure the forums run properly is even bothering to acknowledge that there is a problem, much less bestir themselves off of their no doubt exceptionally large rear ends to do anything about it, this issue has become almost a point of honour.
I'm tempted to say that I've seen monkey-sh*t fights at the zoo that were more organized than the apparent cluster-f*ck going on over at Skiffy, but that would be an insult to monkeys flinging poo everywhere.
Right now, I could just kick myself. All of those years I spent working at jobs where people actually expected results in return for my paycheck, and I somehow missed this opportunity. I'm thinking of dusting the old resume off and firing a copy over to the SciFi Channel for a gig running their bboards. Hell, if all I have to do is sit around picking my nose, making rude noises out of my rear end and stuff my face with cold pizza and warm Mountain Dew while not actually doing anything as the forum crashes and burns around my ears, that's really not a problem. Just hand me a paycheck every week, and I'll happily tell you that absolutely nothing at all is wrong while I completely ignore all those pesky little e-mails from those whiny little bastards who used to be customers. I mean, really, what's the big deal? All those fat little geeks need to get real lives, anyway, maybe get out and get some exercise, the damned losers.
Of course, I don't know what I really expected from a bunch of people who seem to think that professional wrestling is somehow a sub-genre of science fiction. With programming choices like that, I'm sure they network executives are all sitting around, looking puzzled and wondering just why it is none of their shows can seem to break a 1.0 rating, even on a niche cable channel.
Really, though, it's the whole "Well, who cares?" attitude over there that sets my teeth on edge. The same people running those boards who seem to think they don't have to do jack-sh*t when something goes wrong are no doubt the first ones to lose their minds when someone gets into the express line at the grocery store with sixteen items instead of just fifteen. Imagine if your doctor had that attitude; "Hmm, Mr. Jones, we found a spot on your lung in the x-rays. Well, who cares?"
I mean, how does that performance review go? "I asked to see you today because I understand that your latest upgrade to our forum software is preventing several hundred of our customers from accessing our boards. That is entirely unacceptable, and you know it. Only a couple of hundred? You're going to have to try harder if you want to continue your employment here . . ."
Ah, well. Maybe I should just take this as an opportunity to do something else, like go outside. I understand that there is this thing out there that I've heard some people call the "Sun" . . .
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