S.J.A.Turney's Books & More

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It all hinges on this…

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So… I can recite for you a list of the Roman Emperors from the foundation of the principate until the later civil wars of the third century. I can fix problems with fax-from database software (which still surprises me). I can tell you the uses of the Scriptorium in a medieval abbey. I have at least a 50/50 chance of giving you some detail on any town name you care to mention within the boundaries of Europe. What I can’t do is work out a hinge!

Yesterday we had a new monitor of the Sony, black, TFT, sleek variety delivered at work and I unpacked said item in order to set it up. And couldn’t put the stand upright. In the end I figured it must be considerably more complex than merely pushing it through 90 degrees and so unpacked the manual. You’ve failed, not only as an IT manager but also as a human being if you need a manual to deal with a monitor. I was shamed and slunk wherever I went. But then I read the manual. And I quote:

  • Unfold the base
  • Put the monitor face down on the safe surface.
  • Pull up the base (here it shows someone doing just that with a ‘click’ in a spiky box like you’d get on the old Batman series full of ‘ker-pow’s and ‘wham’s.)

So… I was not being ridiculously thick. I was, in fact doing it right. So I try again. I heave on the base until my forehead runs with sweat and the plastic cover of the stand is making dangerous straining noises and going pale in the join like rapidly-breaking plastic. I panic and stop. I realise that I’m only doing what it tells me to do, but still, I don’t want to break a brand new tft screen because of brute force and ignorance.

So… I start to take the stand apart with a screwdriver. I remove seven screws in total (which are all that can be seen/got at) and succeed only in making the decorative plastic cover over the stand loose. Now it won’t bend, but the plastic rattles around like an inanimate pole-dancer. At this point I opened the floor up to McBoring the HR Manager and dared him to try. He also read the instructions and heaved on it until he dared heave no more for being peppered with fragments of breaking plastic. The last twenty minutes of work last night consisted of myself staring at this item and scratching my head, occasionally bursting into fits of laughter in disbelief.

So today I returned to work and picked up the monitor, screws, screwdriver and so and and went up to the desk I was installing it on. I (with some difficulty) reassembled the plastic covering of the base and screwed it together and gave a heave on the thing…

and it went together through 90 degrees with a neat click.

Bastard!

So this may be proof that Mondays are, in fact, evil.

And on a completely different note…

I’m worried about the security of our new home. Oh I know we live in a ridiculously low-crime area. We’re not a long way from the type of situation where all last year’s crime was down to ‘Old Seth’ and his drink-driving three hundred yards in a tractor. But still, a week or two ago I was astounded while pottering (which is something us coutry-folk do) around the house on a sunday morning while Mrs Moosehunter was working overtime, to head to back door slam open. I went to examine the situation and presumed (like you would) that Mrs M didn’t shut the door properly when she went to work. I closed the door and thought nothing more about it. Until yesterday. I returned home first, beating Mrs M by around 15 mins, to find the back door open once more. This time the lock was very clearly locked, with the huge rectangular steel block sticking out of the door but into nothing instead of into the door frame. There was no damage and nothing in the house had moved. Thus we had not been broken into. It was windy enough to blow a three-hundred pound man around the village like an empty shopping bag. The wind had blown open the locked door! I’m trying to figure out what to do about this. I’m considering adding a bolt to it, but if it can blow open with a huge and strong georgian lock fastened, what difference is a bolt going to make? Hmmm. Perhaps one night I’ll come home and find the house disappearing into the countryside in the middle of a twister a la ‘Wizard of Oz’.

It’s curious and perhaps worrying.

I looked up to see Moleman just then who’d taken off his glasses to wipe his eyes and instead of looking like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, without his glasses he looks Waldorf from the Muppet Show. You remember the two guys who sat on the balcony and ripped the rest of them to shreds? The fatter of the two… Creepy.

Anyway, I guess that’s enough for now.

Ciao everybody

Moosey

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Written by SJAT

January 7, 2010 at 4:31 pm

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