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Let’s imagine, for a moment, that you’ve been charged with the task of building a Robot. Let’s not worry about the Whys and Hows of this scenario, only that this is your job. You are going to build a Robot for Some Guy, and that’s pretty much all you need to know.

Oh, wait, one more thing. You’ve been told where to get the parts from. There’s Some Other Guy. He’s a pretty neat guy. You get along. You have shared interests. The problem is that this Other Guy is also providing parts for about nine or ten other people, so he’s not always able to get your parts straight away.

Now imagine that Some Guy, the same Some Guy who asked you to build the Robot, comes up to you to ask how his Robot is progressing. Well, you can’t answer him, can you? You don’t have the parts. It’s out of your control - Some Other Guy pretty much has the monopoly on Robot Parts, after all. It’s entirely out of your hands. You can learn how to build the parts yourself - that’s an option - but it’s going to take time. This Robot isn’t going to be finished any time soon. It’s annoying, but it’s out of your control and it can’t be helped.

“No,” said Some Guy. “You’re supposed to be building a Robot. Why aren’t you building a Robot? You should build me a Robot.”

So you explain, again, that you can’t get the parts. Some Guy doesn’t seem to care that you can’t get the parts. You’ve already got some of them, after all. He asked for a Robot. He should have a Robot. Where is his Robot?

It’s times like this, I’m sure you’ll agree, when you’ll wonder why you even bothered getting a job in Robot Construction.

I’m reading Andrew’s latest blog entry, in which he does a spEak You’re bRanes on the comments left on this Times Online article about Richard Dawkins. Mostly he’s having a pop at some of the more stupefying comments left by the Intelligent Design crowd as well as various stupid people who believe in some kind of Big Beard in the Sky* who feel that Dawkins’ unwavering belief in the non-existence of God is somehow wrong and that he should be cast out of human society, possibly even beaten and/or hanged in the process. It strikes me as particularly ironic that these are usually (and evidently) the same people who harp on about respecting the beliefs of others.

One commonly occurring argument that seems to be popping up there, however, basically boils down to this: Believe in God and Heaven and Angels and so on, because we don’t know if there is or there isn’t so you might as well just in case. Besides, how will children react when you tell them that there’s no Heaven? Where will all the calculators go? Best not to have to worry about that sort of question - tell them about Heaven and God and everything will be alright.

That’s a bit of a shitty argument, really.

The fact is, regardless of whether or not there is an afterlife of any description, these people are pretty much choosing to believe in an afterlife purely because the alternative - that when we punch out at the end of our shift we’re not coming back - isn’t pleasant enough for them. It’s like choosing to watch The Care Bears Movie instead of The Empire Strikes Back or The Dark Knight because it has a more upbeat, pleasant ending despite being a crock of shit.

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*Not to imply that all religious people are stupid, of course, but rather that there is a small subset of religious people who are incredibly thick. You all know the sort of person I’m referring to, here. I feel it’s probably fair to point out that Atheists can be stupid too - I’m a prime example of this.

I like Firefox. I don’t get quite as “Holier-Than-Thou” about the browser as others do, largely because it’s just a web browser*, but I can read web pages the way nature intended (i.e. without a bunch of Internet Explorer proprietary shit getting in the way) and so all is right with the world. Firefox 2 is not without its bugs, however, and one bug in particular is beginning to… well, to bug me. It’s this one:

Quick find bar opens when typing in text fields

The / (slash) and ‘ (apostrophe)keys are shortcuts to open the Quick Find bar. You can also configure Firefox to automatically search for text when you type any characters outside of a text field. When typing in a text field these characters should show up in the text field and not trigger the Quick Find bar.

I don’t know if this bug has been fixed in Firefox 3 as I haven’t downloaded it yet (I’ll get into that in a bit) but from what I can recall while researching the bug a year or two ago it was one that Mozilla were aware of but weren’t fixing. I remember reading that when people reported the bug the Firefox devteam would get quite arsey about it, saying that they had no intention of fixing it and stupidly telling people to fix it themselves because it’s Firefox and it’s Open Source and they have Better Things To Do than to fix one teeny tiny bug. Indeed, a simple Google search for firefox Quick Find bug reveals a number of fixes available. Mozilla never fixed this bug themselves, though. Note that down because I’ll be referring to it later.

The bug is annoying, but as it only happened sporadically (maybe once a week, if that) and it can be “fixed” by opening and closing a dialogue box such as the Options window or the “About…” blurb, I saw no real pressing urge to repair the glitch.

Spin on to this past two weeks - this glitch is now popping up every time I run Firefox. Not just on my desktop PC at home, but on my laptop and my work computer as well. I’ve come to anticipate the glitch by first opening and closing the “About…” dialogue, which is easy enough, but then there are some other small glitches which occur as a side-effect of this - opening a new tab with Ctrl+T doesn’t automatically place the focus on the address bar, for instance, so I can open a new tab and type in an address only for nothing to happen at all.

I yesterday I was about to do what I always do when a program is glitching on me - look for an updated version. Then I remembered that, oh yes, Firefox 3 was released this week. And, oh, weren’t Mozilla trying to go for a download world record on June 18th? The little cogs began a-turnin’ in my head and I began to wonder: What if Mozilla deliberately “timed” this bug to become more annoying around the time Firefox 3 launched? What if the very reason they decided not to fix this glitch and become arrogant cocks at the mere mention of it were because they had planned to use it to encourage annoyed people to update when FF3 became available on the 18th?

I’d deliberately avoided upgrading to FF3 before I came to this realization because the browser is incompatible with pretty much every plug-in and add-on available for FF2, but now I’m even less inclined to want to update. I don’t like the idea that Mozilla may be forcing people to update their browser just because they want to break some kind of non-existent, unimportant, trivial record. I don’t like the idea of being forced to update at all, to be honest. And now, as if by magic, Firefox is refusing to acknowledge input from the arrow keys, so in order to me to go back and fix a typo I had to click on it rather than use the arrow keys to get back to that point. Harrumph. Harrumph, I say.

Anyway, that’s my Unnecessarily Paranoid Conspiracy Theory for the year. Tune in again next June.

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* I have a great deal of difficulty comprehending why it is exactly that people get so militant about their choice of browser. Firefox users tend to consider themselves the Cats Meow because they happen to have a standards-compliant browser, which is also Open Source (and we all know what a bunch of elitist wankers most Open Source advocates are). Opera users tend to rank themselves higher than the Firefox users because their browser is somehow more compliant and passes some obscure test that only people who work in web design for a living will have any idea about.

Why does anyone actually give a shit? Why does anyone give any bodily fluid about which browser they’re using? As long as nobody’s using Internet Explorer aren’t we basically alright? Get a little perspective, people.

So hot they named it twice. Also, fuck me that’s hot.

I love videogames, and I can’t think of a single person who doesn’t (unless we’re including Jack Thompson, but whether or not he qualifies as a person is another matter entirely). That said, I can’t help but spot glaring problems with the way the games industry works at the moment. I can’t imagine why people haven’t spotted these flaws and corrected them already, so here they are in all their splendour. There’s some unsavory language ahead, mind. You have been warned.

Let the good times roll.

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I’m in a really surreal sort of mood at the moment. I want to write, but when I load up Word the urge vanishes and no ideas come to mind, so I close it. A few moments later I feel compelled to write again so I open up Word again and nothing comes. At all. It’s irritating. Nothing is holding my attention at the moment. I can’t play any games because they bore me after a couple of minutes, I can’t draw because I get annoyed with what I’m drawing and scribble all over it, and I can’t write for the aforementioned reasons.

I feel like I need to be doing something, but when I start doing something I lose interest. What the fuck is up with me today?

The Doctor lives. The organization responsible for the kidnapping have sent me this video and demand that I post it on my site if I wish to see the action figure again.

I have to say, I’m surprised that they were able to get Talking-To-His-Daughter-While-Drunk David Hasselhoff to participate.

Went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull last night and absolutely loved it, but checking my email this morning was a haunting experience.

Those of you who follow by Twitter feed will know that I got into work on Monday and found one of my Doctor Who action figures had been, for want of a better work, kidnapped. This morning I received a strange missive from someone referring to themselves only as “¢”. The message reads:

Mr. Paddon -
Sometimes we must separate friendship with business. My long time associates are not pleased with the riff raft you have been bring into the office. They feel that the element you bring to your desk harms the true purpose of promotional dolls and detracts from the true meaning of toys. Or at least that is what i gather, they are not the most comprehendible people I have worked with.
I am merly acting as a messaganger between your sect and the sect I represent. I personally asked for this assignment to protect the over all integerty of stealling workmakes toys. I am not activly envolved in the demands, negotiations, or selection of victims. I am merely a go between. The only set condition I have for you is I merly be refered to as ¢.

Here is the first picture and statement from the toys for america liberation front.
“Ben Paddon, you are no longer in control of your twitter. If you want to see the proof of life video and see your presicous doctor, you will put the following phrase on your Twitter Blog ever hour for the entire work day of Thursday, May 22, 2008.”
“The Sky is Falling”
At 5 pm, if conditions are met you will see your Doctor on Video. For now, here is a picture.

¢

This is naturally a very strange scenario to find myself in. I have a policy of not negotiating with terrorists, but I must confess I find myself conflicted here. If anyone can offer advice, I’m all ears.

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* An alternative title for this post would be “We don’t negotiate with Twitterists”

I seldom talk about general religion on my blog. It’s usually an annual occurrence, and I don’t usually have anything insightful to offer. It’s usually “I’m not a religious person, but I’m open-minded.” That’s a stark change from the opinion I held five years ago, which was “There is no God, and if you believe in God you’re a complete and utter idiot.” It’s a stance which has softened somewhat over the past few years, but it has effectively remained the same - I don’t think there’s a God. The difference is that now I’m open to the possibility.

I had a small spiritual crisis back in ‘06 in part because spent a lot of time thinking about how, when I die, I probably won’t go anywhere. The thought of evaporating into nothingness scared me. It still does. I try not to think about it much because the last time I tried to imagine what ceasing to exist would feel like I was so utterly terrified I actually cried, and I found it more than a little difficult to get to sleep that night. Experiencing that make it very easy for me to see why people choose to believe in some form of mystical energy force that controls their destiny.

On the balance, I’m generally rather accepting of people’s faith provided they don’t try to push their faith onto others, or use their beliefs to justify the willful harm others, or try to use elements of their faith as an excuse for inactivity. I also take exception to religious leaders - and religious people generally - who make silly statements about how Atheists are an inherently evil people with no moral scruples simply because they haven’t any religious textbook to give them instructions for living and a basis for what is right and wrong. Frankly, That’s bollocks of the highest caliber, and it’s for this reason that I don’t give to explicitly religiously motivated charities - I can’t see past their faith, and I can’t help but feel that the only reason they’re doing whatever it is their charity does is because they’re trying to curry favour with their magical space wizard of choice. That’s probably a little narrow-minded of me considering that they’re helping people regardless of motivation, but it does seem more than a tad disingenuous to me. It’s a little on the slimy side, to be honest.

I recently finished watching An Evening with Kevin Smith (which I recommend to absolutely everyone ever, along with the second one) and he mentions how he was effectively roped into filming a documentary for The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince which was jointly about the release of his then-new album, and the beliefs of Jehovah’s Witnesses. At one point The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist asks those with faith to step to one side of the room, and those without to the other, and then tells the Atheists that because they have no faith they have no moral code and are therefore inferior people. Those with faith have a guidebook (the Bible, natch) and are, it seems, utterly incapable of performing evil deeds.  Further evidence, as if it were needed, that The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince is no more mentally sound that the Pope (who is also stark raving bonkers).

I find it a little funny that those who harbour a Carrie’s Mother level of religious conviction are so vehemently against criticism of their faith of choice and yet they have no qualms utterly bashing Atheism. But then we’re talking about people for whom Hypocrisy is a way of life - people who say that God teaches love and then go on to say that he “hates fags” and wants to see them all killed… which isn’t actually inconsistent when you consider that in the Bible God kills a good couple of million people compared to the number of people Satan killed - ten. If they ever get around to making Bible: The Movie God will have to be played by Vin Diesel, Jet Li or Chuck Norris.

I have a tendency to over-analyze things. I’m constantly over-analyzing my own actions for one, and that’s something I believe I’ve gone into previously. I have difficulty sometimes figuring out what motivates me, what causes me to say and do some of the things I do. Since learning that left-handed people are more susceptible to neurological disorders such as bipolarity, acute anxiety disorder and paranoia (largely due to the left-handed brain being wired up differently from the right-handed one), I’ve started mentally chalking up my bizarre actions to simply being left-handed, and have begun trying to pigeon-hole each action into a particular neurological disorder in much the same way that Harold Crick found himself tallying the Comedies and Tragedies that occurred in his life, the exception being I’m doing it purely in my head, and my list is rather bigger than just the two options. It’s entirely possible I’m looking for justification where none actually exists, and by considering this I’m now over-analyzing my over-analysis, which is surely a Bad Thing.

I have discovered, or at the least decided, that my main reasons for doing much of what I do is because I need to feel like I’m entertaining. I have an overwhelming desire to please people, to make them smile and laugh if at all possible, and that drives me to say and do things that I know will perhaps make me look stupid. I’m willingly making myself look the fool just to get a quick chuckle out of people - often people I hardly know - and that strikes me as very dangerous behavior.

It still surprises me that buying a book in London in April led me to a Fetish Ball in Hollywood in December.

I imagine that probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, so I’ll try and explain.

You may recall that way back in April I had to pop down to London for my medical. I had a lovely lady stick a bloody great needle in my arm and steal some of my vital fluids, although I don’t recall whether or not I was offered a lollipop by way of apology. I never understood why children are allowed lollipops, but grown ups aren’t. Heigh ho.

But anyway.

Before the medical, I’d passed the time by popping into a bookstore on Oxford Street and picking up an inexpensive book. The book in question was Yes Man by Danny Wallace, and anyone who has ever read the book or heard me talk about the book before probably knows where this story is going.

I’d started reading the book in London while waiting for my appointment. I then read more of it on the tube back to King’s Cross, and then a bit more of it on the train from King’s Cross to Luton. I read a bit more on the bus from Luton Train Station to my Mum’s home, and then a lot more that night. I plowed through the book in a couple of days, and when I’d finished it my outlook on life was irrevocably altered.

At the start of the book, which incidentally is a true story, Danny had broken up with his girlfriend. He’s stopped going out, stopped being sociable, and had largely kept himself to himself. That was more or less what I’d been doing when I broke up with Amy - I kept myself to myself, I didn’t go out or do much. Danny’s life was changed when a stranger on a bus offered the advice “Say yes more” quite out of thin air, for no real reason whatsoever.

So Danny did. He said yes to absolutely everything, from “Would you like sugar in your tea?” to “Buy our amazing Penis Patch”.

I won’t go into further detail about the book, but suffice to say I decided that I was fed up of saying No all the time, and I decided henceforth to start saying Yes again. I wasn’t going to take it to the extremes Danny took it to, but I was going to be receptive to new experiences, open to new ideas, and above all accepting of new opportunities.

In a way, the book is responsible for my contacting JjAR to see if he’d be interested in doing the art for Jump Leads. A friend, Bonz, had suggested I get in touch with him, and after seeing his artwork I’d wanted to. The old Ben wouldn’t have bothered, figuring he’d get a negative response, if any response at all. The new Ben, however, decided there was nothing to lose. So I said Yes, I’d email him, and he said Yes, I’ll do the artwork.

The book is most certainly responsible for the Fetish Ball attendance, which I shall have to write about at some point later in the day as it’s gone 1am and I should be asleep. Until then!

Wal-Mart, the huge American supermarket chain who you might recognise as the owners of ASDA, have an ad on television at the moment which I find most confusing. The advert exudes pride and warmth at the fact that the company now have more employees working at night, the apparent benefit being that this frees up more people to help customers during the day. Personally though, if it were me, I wouldn’t boast about the fact that my company had more employees doing more work at night. Wal-Mart now seem like a bunch of wankers to me, although to be fair they seemed pretty wankerific before then.

What makes this ad even more ridiculous is that the employees are all incredibly cheerful, remarkably attractive people in their early 20s who apparently enjoy working at stupid o’ clock in the morning. They’re smiling and working and changing the cash in the tills, all to the accompaniment of what I can only assume is a cover of King Harvest’s Dancing in the Moonlight.

Who is this advert for, exactly? Who are they targeting? Because besides the song - which is a cracking good tune, incidentally - there’s nothing about this ad which seems at all positive to me. Again, it just puts forward the message, “We are Wal-Mart, we are dicks. Come shop with us!”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again - American TV advertising makes no bloody sense.