The Crapolla According to Fek'Lar

You know you're screwed when...

you're driving at night, and your GPS tells you to make a left turn off a cliff.

You've stumbled onto another issue of The Crapolla, a journal written for software professionals. No not the managers; I mean the people who do the work.

This Crapolla is sponsored by...

In This Issue...

Where's my Diet Coke? What am I, a mindreader!

I Know What Happened to the Telepaths

I know why there is no telepathy gene in humans. It's so very simple. You just have to understand how evolution works.

Evolution allows a species to develop new abilities and thus evolve into a new species by allowing natural selection to be the deciding factor. In most mammals, virtually all the females breed, but very few of the males. This was true in humans until that one man, one woman stuff started. So females always pass on their genes, but only some males do. The traits the females favor in males are the genetic future of the species.

This is why there is no telepathy in humans. Go back to high school. Who got all the girls? A bunch of guys who were taller, stronger, and, in many cases, stupider. But they did have one redeeming trait, they could lie through their teeth. Any guy who a girl could see right through, never got laid. The girls chose the guys who told the best stories. If there was a telepathy trait, it would have migrated from male to female, and the girls would be able to see through the lies, and no one would get laid.

And thus, we are not telepaths.

And Now A Word About Diet Coke

I was in Maui, and didn't want to get completely gang-raped by the tourist-zone prices. I bought a 12 pack of Diet Coke at the local Safeway. I didn't get a great deal, but I also didn't have to mortgage the house.

One of the cans had been damaged. The side split and there was no soda in it. This has happened before. The cans are very thin and don't travel well. I once heard of a mid-west bottler who wanted to test their chocolate-flavored soda on the west coast. They loaded up a truck and sent it west. When it got to the Rockies, all hell broke loose. The cans had vibrated against each other in the truck and had rubbed through one another. Suddenly, all of the cans failed and a stream of chocolate soda was gushing out the back onto the interstate. Aluminum cans are fine for short hauls, but they have to be cared for.

Back in Maui, I did what you should always do when you get a split can, or even a soda that tastes rotten. I called the toll-free number on the side of the can (1-800-438-2653). Coca-Cola Customer Service answers and you tell them your sob story. I explained the problem. I was asked for the code printed on the bottom, and for the four characters on the middle of the top. From this, the manufacturing date, and the bottler was identified.

For my trouble I was profusely apologized to, and a coupon for a free 12 pack was sent to my house. This is because Coca-Cola knows that keeping a customer happy is way cheaper than winning a new one through advertising. I went on to drink the rest of my sodas all over the Valley Island. When I got home, I was greeted by the letter from Coca-Cola, again apologizing, this time with coupon enclosed.

What a great company! If only their stock wasn't such a dog.

So Why The Hell Are You on Facebook?

There's been a big brew-ha-ha about Facebook and its changing of user privacy settings. The gist is Facebook opts you into to all new features, and built a group of pages to control your privacy that were confusing to the point where you might think you locked down your info, but you hadn't.

After much beating on the company, it was announced that it had created simplistic (note the word) security pages. Now everyone can calm down. At All Things D, CEO Zuckerberg was sweating so profusely over simple questions from Walt Mosberg about personal privacy, that he removed his hoodie. And if you think Mosberg is Carl Bernstien, think again.

Let's take a step back and analyze who you're giving your information to. Facebook is a wholesaler of consumer information. Those with Facebook accounts are the resources. They aren't customers, they're product. Customers are advertisers who want to better target their messages. It is in Facebook's best interest for the resources to share every little bit of their lives. This is why Facebook opts you in to every new feature. You probably won't notice that a new feature has been released, and that your information is now being shared in a new way.

But honestly, why are you sharing so much that should never be on the internet? This story really isn't about how, if Zuckerberg where 15 years older, he would have given the Spam King a run for his money. It's about how the public hasn't learned that the internet is a bad neighborhood. Would you walk through a high-crime area waving 100 dollar bills over your head? When you share information on the internet, that's exactly what you're doing. Name, date of birth, where you went to school, hometown, are these the type in information a stalker would want? How about a identity thief?

Facebook has said they've made controlling your privacy easier. And some of you are going to look at these new controls and decide they're good enough. Here's my prediction. In a little while the brew-ha-ha will be over. The media will have moved on to the new flashy story, and Facebook will go back to opting you in and not telling you. After all, you are not the customer. So ask yourself, how much information is really needed in a public forum just to stay in contact with your friends?

This Issue's Headline submission to the National Daily World Enquiring Globe.

Department of Homeland Security Locates Another Bomb!

Man Arrested for Parking a '72 Ford Pinto in Times Square!


Let's play, "Who said this?"

Heard in the halls of various software companies.

"If just there was money in releasing defective software!"
"Where the hell were you in the 90's?"

"Enjoy the frustration!"

"My boyfriend is taking me to the Sausage Factory for dinner. Should I be worried?"
"Do you like Bukake?"

"I love sucking the juice from a burrito."

"We've known each other for a long time. I would honored to smell your farts."

Excuse Me

I feel a tremor in The Force.

Fek'Lar
They pay me to think. These are my thoughts. Do you think they are getting their money's worth?

Remember: The Crapolla contains my personal opinions. That's right they're mine, so get your own! And you kids get off my lawn!

Although written with the software professional in mind, my mind tends to wander all over the place, and I sometimes write about politics, mass stoopidity, dumb things I saw, and whatever else comes to mind.

From time to time, I use salty language, thus The Crapolla is not intended for children, or certain people from the Christian Right.

This whole mess is copyright © 2010 by LowComDom Performances, all rights reserved. Wanna send this to your friends? Go ahead and pass out the URL.

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EOJ

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