The Library of Congress is one of the great treasures of Washington. It's probably the biggest library on the planet, in terms of total holdings. What really makes it great, though, is that almost anyone can get a reader's card and gain access to the Library's collection.
I first registered as a reader back around 2000. I was an undergraduate then, and looking for a place to keep up with my reading out-of-term. I loved working there, particularly in the stately Gilded Age Jefferson Building main reading room, under whose dome I spent many hours puzzling over texts both obscure and mundane.
I returned today, for the first time in many years. I walked in the west door of the Jefferson Building, under the carriageway arch, and was greeted by a guard who called out to me as he slouched on his chair, next to the magnetometer:
"Visitor or Researcher?"
"Researcher," I answered him, "but I need to renew my ID."
"That's in the Madison Building," he said, nodding.
"Oh it's in Madison now?"
"It's always been in Madison," he said. I laughed to myself. When I first registered, reader registration was in in the back of the Jefferson Building.
I made my way over to Madison and re-registered. The clerk at the registration desk asked me what my old ID number was.
"Does it start with a 5 or a 6?"
"Two," I answered. She looked at me, surprised.
"How old are you??" She didn't believe that I was old enough to have been issued a card with such an early serial number. It was a good-natured exchange, and in a little under a minute, I surrendered my tattered old ID and was issued a shiny new one--albeit with the same, smug, nineteen-year-old face smiling on it.
I returned to the Current Periodicals reading room--my least favorite space in the whole Library. I had always thought of it as a kind of Hell reserved for survivors of the Carter administration: a windowless space lit with harsh, lowest-bidding-subcontractor flourescent tubes.
I bumbled a bit--I had forgotten where the circulation request slips were, and ended up stammering a lot, but a kindly circulation librarian got me exactly what I needed in a facation of the time usual.
I will have to go back more often. I've missed the Library.
- Return to the LoC
-
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
ouij- January 26th, 2009
- Inauguration
-
- ouij
- January 20th, 2009
I went to the Mall today to see Barack Obama take the oath of office. What I witnessed was something different. I saw America today.
I saw America set apart a day from its labors and process endlessly into Washington to mark this day, even as it knew that there was still work to do tomorrow.
I saw America, shivering in the darkness of a winter night, a collection of strangers, huddling together, waiting for the dawn of a new day.
I saw America, its head raised in song, spontaneously singing its own praises. I saw America bow its head in prayer, begging Heaven for its deliverance. I saw its men with tears streaming down their faces, its women laughing with joy.
I saw America cheer, an uncounted number from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial, leaping at once and waving flags at the echoes of the new President swearing--so help me God--and the congratulations of the Chief Justice--Congratulations, Mister President.
I saw America depart, bewildered, amazed; stumbling into the cold light of a new day.
- In case you hadn't noticed
-
- ouij
- December 22nd, 2008
It's frickin' freezing out there today. My goodness.
- Security Theatre on the Metro
-
- ouij
- October 28th, 2008
[The bulk of this post is taken from a comment I posted on![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
washingtondc]
Apparently, WMATA has announced plans to "immediately begin random searches of backpacks, purses and other bags.
Yeah, you heard right. These will be random, suspicionless searches of otherwise unsuspecting Metro riders.
My first instinct was to think this was outrageously intrusive. Then I tried to think about how they might go about justifying random searches. I figured they might rely on some implied consent theory-- that is, persons consenting to ride a subway system have a reduced expectation of privacy compared with persons on a public street.
Unfortunately, consent may not even be terribly relevant, considering the fact that these searches are intended to deter terrorist activity.
"We realize that all Americans everywhere are at some risk from terrorism, and that those of us who live and work in the region of the nation's capital face increased risks," Metro Transit Police Chief Michael Taborn said at a news conference yesterday.
The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit dealt with this issue recently in MacWade v. Kelly, 460 F.3d 260 (2d Cir. 2006)--and Metro is relying on MacWade. That case dealt with the New York City subway's institution of a "Container Inspection Program." MacWade, 460 F.3d at 264.
The NYPD, seeking to "deter terrorists from carrying concealed explosives onto the subway system," set up checkpoints to search riders entering the subway system. Id. Although the searches are "voluntary," all those wishing to avoid being searched are told to leave the station. Id. Officers had no discretion with respect to the particular targets of their searches; they merely searched a number of people, "such as every fifth or tenth person." Id.
The Second Circuit held these searches to be constitutionally reasonable within the scope of the Fourth Amendment. Id. at 269. The court relied on one of its earlier decisions, United States v. Edwards, in which it ruled that the use of metal detectors at airports was a reasoanble search under the fourth amendment. Since the use of metal detectors at airports was not intended "as a general means for enforcing the criminal laws," but rather to prevent terrorist hijackings, the the Edwards court upheld those searches. Id. (quoting United States v. Edwards, 498 F.2d 496, 500-01 (2d Cir. 1974)). Quoting at length from Edwards, the MacWade court noted the "jeopardy to hundreds of human lives and millions of dollars of property." Id. (quoting United States v. Edwards, 498 F.2d 496, 500-01 (2d Cir. 1974)). Thus, on balance, such searches were constitutionally reasonable.
This "special needs" exception to the Fourth Amendment entails a balancing test:
First, as a threshold matter, the search must “serve as [its] immediate purpose an objective distinct from the ordinary evidence gathering associated with crime investigation” . . . . Second, once the government satisfies that threshold requirement, the court determines whether the search is reasonable by balancing several competing considerations. These balancing factors include (1) the weight and immediacy of the government interest. . . (2) “the nature of the privacy interest allegedly compromised by” the search . . . (3) “the character of the intrusion imposed” by the search . . . and (4) the efficacy of the search in advancing the government interest."
MacWade, 460 F.3d at 268-69 (citations omitted).
Indeed, the MacWade court may have killed the whole consent issue completely by holding that the "special needs doctrine does not require . . . that the subject of the search possess a reduced privacy interest." Id. at 269.
Good law? Good question. I certainly don't like it; but then, I don't like a lot of Fourth Amendment jurisprudence, either. The Fourth Amendment, intriguingly, carries a balancing test (reasonableness) in its text, making it very difficult to get good, bright-line, per se rules.
That's as much as I can give you on short notice. This really isn't my line. For a more systematic treatment of this type of issue--far more systematic than I can give in the space of an LJ comment, see Kyle P. Hanson, Comment, Suspcicionless Terrorism Checkpoints Since 9/11: Searching for Uniformity, 56 Drake L. Rev. 171 (2007).
(Intriguingly, MacWade hasn't gotten a lot of play in the legal blogosphere. Law & Society Blog dealt with this back in '05)
- Think of the children.
-
- ouij
- January 10th, 2008
(Via DCBlogs)
Apparently, the Hannah Montana craze is causing parents to do, well, crazy things. PennQuarter Living recounts finding a number of weeping 'tween girls on the Metro, unaccompanied by any responsible adult:
The eldest girl (who was 13) explained that they were on their way to the Hannah Montana concert at the Verizon Center and that they were lost. I offered to help them find their way, but demanded to know where their parents were. Apparently, tickets to the concert being scarce, their parents had bought them one way tickets on Metro and sent them to the concert unescorted.
I was shocked. What parent would send their sub-13-year-old daughters into Metro DC unsupervised? Surely, this had to be an aberration. But as I exited the Chinatown Metro to walk the girls toward Will Call, I saw several more groups of young girls trying to navigate the large crowd alone.
Unaccompanied kids, of course, aren't a shockingly uncommon sight on the Metro system during school days: school kids seem to take Metrobus and Metrorail unaccompanied at a very young age.
Which leads me to think: first, what is the actual risk that unaccompanied kids will come to harm on the Metro system? And, second, should they come to harm, who would be liable?
- Surviving Summary Judgment
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- ouij
- November 16th, 2007
"Time!"
My study group was taking a practice Contracts exam. On any ordinary day, this would have made us the very exemplars of scholarly diligence. On a Friday afternoon, after the last class of the day, sitting in an empty classroom, we looked like we were serving after-school detention.
I'd like to think that I'm usually pretty sharp at Contracts. It is my favorite first-year course so far, after all. But I just wasn't feeling it this afternoon. I was missing issues. I spent too long making utterly irrelevant arguments. I mischaracterized the facts--fatally so. In other words, had this been the real thing, I would have failed it utterly.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I could hear my Contracts professor warning me.
"You'll either get an A or a D in this course. Don't make me give you the D."
Objectively, we had a good session. We covered all of the major issues. We were able, among the five of us, to see where we should have gone with the analysis. But no matter how productive our review session, I couldn't escape the creeping sense of dread. The exam is in four weeks. I am not yet ready. I need to be ready.
"Don't worry," says one of us. "Nobody in this room is going to fail."
We turn and look, doubtfully.
"I checked his grade distributions. OK, so he doesn't give out any As. But I'm pretty sure, given what we've done here, we're at least at Cs."
We are still dubious.
"So we're going to survive summary judgment?" I say. In the back of my mind, I hear my professor's voice, reprimanding me for missing an obvious issue:
"C'mon. I'm not asking you to win. I just want you to avoid summary judgment!"
"Yes. I think we're going to survive summary judgment."
I'm still not so sure. We adjourn. I linger in the atrium for a while, chatting. Finally I start walking for the Metro station.
Delays on the Red Line. I finally make it to Metro Center and change to the Orange line. I file onto my train. I am too upset to read, or think, or do anything. I can only sit and mull over my spectacular failure in this afternoon's practice exam.
A frail, wizened old woman shuffles onto my train. She finds a seat. We get to Farragut West, and she asks the young people sitting across from her where she is.
"Is this Dunn Loring?" Her voice is shaky, her accent doubtful. The young people can't hear her.
"No ma'am," I say. "This is Courthouse. Dunn Loring's a long way off. I'll let you know when it's coming up--I'm riding out that far."
She is grateful. "Thank you very much," she says. "All of you, thank you!"
The young people get off at Courthouse, and I slide into the seat across from the old lady. She took the Chinese bus down from New York--"the City, you know, the bus that leaves from Canal Street"--to visit her great-grandson. She'd spent the whole afternoon on the bus. Her great-grandson's mother had promised to pick her up from DC, but at the last minute had bailed out and told her to go to Dunn Loring instead.
"This has been the longest part of the trip!" She told me, exasperated. It was quite a journey for her--she was hobbling on a cane and a broken hip.
We came onto Dunn Loring. She thanked me and told me to take care of myself. Imagine that--she told me to take care! She thanked me again.
I told her to be careful. And then something unexpected came out of my mouth--I thanked her.
I had spent my whole afternoon dwelling on how terrible I was, how hopeless my exams seemed. And now all--almost all-- of the bitterness was gone. The work is important, yes, very important. The stakes are high. But there was something wonderfully liberating about doing the human, decent thing and helping a lost person get found.
The old lady couldn't see very well, but she made me see a little more clearly.
- LA Galaxy 0 - 1 DC United
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- ouij
- August 10th, 2007
Our Galaxy turns (or so I am told)
On an axis that's distant and hidden and old--
Like a monarch or prince it attracts to its train
Lesser stars, who are bound in their paths to remain.
So it was for the forty-five thousand that came
In their cars, on the train, to a Thursday night game;
Attracted, compelled by a force with a name:
David Beckham was here! (He, of footballing fame
As no doubt many knew--and the few who did not?
Well it wasn't the sun that made those ladies hot)
By the thousands they came, by the truckload, by ton--
But the first half saw Beckham do nothing but run
On the touchline a bit--no, he never went on,
The BeckhamCam man must have stifled a yawn!
David Beckham the Circus had come, that was so,
But DC United provided the show:
Luciano Emilio, whose cannon-like score
Drew from the old faithful a thunderous roar!
And the faithful were there, in their colors arrayed:
The Twelfth Man, who is DC United's best aid:
Here were Norte and Eagles and Barras in force
Waving flags, singing, cheering until they were hoarse.
The rain fell in torrents, the heavens did rumble,
But DC United fans never did stumble:
And Galaxy, faltering, now a man down
Called at last on their Beckham of fame and renown.
How the ladies did scream--how the flashbulbs went off,
When Beckham, preparing, did take his shirt off!
And when Beckham arrived on the field, now to play,
The flashbulbs did turn Thursday night into day!
And if Beckham should tap a ball even a bit,
What a cheer the capacity crowd did emit!
'Twas too little, too late for the Galaxy, though--
Luciano Emilio's was too great of a blow.
When the whistle was blown, and the ball ceased to roll
It wasn't the hype that had won, but the soul--
Though Beckham may draw a capacity crowd
For United it was they were cheering out loud:
What Beckham can show us by his coming near
Is just how many fans there are already here
- Cars R Coffins
-
- ouij
- May 10th, 2007
I drove to work yesterday--Fairfax to Dupont. Door-to-door, taking Rte. 50, it took me about an hour.
Overall, I was impressed at how quick it seemed compared to taking I-66...but then my usual hatred for driving kicked in. I just can't be arsed to pay for gas and parking in DC.
Back to the rails for me.
- New England Revolution 1 - 1 D.C. United
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- ouij
- May 4th, 2007
The Red and the Black were still winless in three--
(Not a singular point, not a win, not a draw)
When the doughty New Englanders came to DC,
To be witnessed by Eagles, and Barras, and me.
Now that dreaded statistic did stick in the craw
Of DC United's vociferous fans--
Whom the rest of the league should regard with great awe--
All other supporters are nothing but straw.
So the Red and the Black, for their suffering fans,
For the love of the game and the sake of their name
Did valiantly try to please those in the stands
Who cheered on their efforts with uprais`ed hands.
But New England struck first! O the pain! O the shame!
Tyler Twellman, the imp, flicked a shot-- it was saved!
But his comrade converted, one Dornan by name.
Would D.C. United again live in shame?
Five minutes would pass ere the debt was repaid
By Jaime Moreno, by breaking away
From New England's defense (O, how skillfully played!)
The penalty area did he then invade.
But Riley then came, who with nothing to say,
Fouled Moreno instead to send him to the spot--
So doughty New England's defensive array
Would have nothing at all now to do but to pray--
And now does Moreno line up for the shot;
And now does the goalie attempt to prepare;
And now does his foot strike the ball--now it's caught
By the back of the net! Now the score is a knot!
New England's Grenadian, with nary a care
Nor with visible mercy, cut Ben Olsen down--
With Joseph sent off, could United now dare
To hope for a win in their RFK lair?
To hope proved too much-- though they were a man down,
New England relied on the crossbar and posts:
DC took its shots, the posts did rebound
While the Red and the Black the goal did surround.
New England, in sum, took a point from their hosts.
United, still winless, did salvage a draw.
And the refs? Those incompetents, less worthy than goats,
Will live to be cursed in many a toast.
- One Good Turn Deserves a Refutation
-
- ouij
- April 30th, 2007
To the lady in the grey "luxury" SUV/Crossover/BloatedCorpseMobile on Fairfax Circle this evening:
Thank you for giving way to me and letting me into the intersection. I was slightly less by the way you waved me in--was that frantic arm-wagging evidence of some sort of hostile intent latent in your selfless road manners?
Just the same, though I wish you had just kept going and let the people behind you follow you through the intersection. I would have waited my turn and joined the queue of traffic. It would have been fine. Indeed, the usual rule is for persons entering the intersection to yield to persons like you, who are already in the intersection. To reverse this otherwise sensible rule of the road is to turn roundabouts and traffic circles into veritable black holes, voraciously capturing traffic in their inescapable fields of self-important virtue.
The rules of the road are there for a reason. We follow them not out of any particular spirit of charity or goodwill towards other road-users. We follow them because they make sense--they make our interactions with other road-users routine and predictable. Your misplaced "generosity" only serves to throw off my timing and the timing of the cars around us. You might have caused an accident--the fellow behind you might have rear-ended you.
So please, gentle readers. Don't drive aggressively, but don't drive timidly, either. All I want and expect is for you to follow the law.
- Artomatic--preliminary report
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- ouij
- April 26th, 2007
Went to the Artomatic last night.
It's more than a little surreal to have such an anarchic, collective art experience housed in a Crystal City office block.
That said: the art on display ranged from the very blah to the very cool. My personal favorite-- Rebecca Gordon's Ant-o-matic, which really has to be stumbled upon to be thoroughly enjoyed. It definitely triggered my "wow, COOL!" reaction. Another highlight-- Phil Nesmith's excellent ferrotypes. Phil was actually in the house, as it were, when I was there, and we talked a lot about the process of the ferrotype, his love for the wet-plate collodion process, the difference between the old processes and digital (he's a working PJ).
Also, attentionlauren_urban: there was a lot of work at the Artomatic from the Washington Glass School--plenty of fused & cast glass.
Other neat stuff--the infamous Peeps dioramas, and more than I can remember or count. I'll definitely be back.
- Sleeping Lion--Corcoran
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- ouij
- April 3rd, 2007
One of the guardian lion statues at the Corcoran Gallery
- Forgotten Memorial
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- ouij
- April 3rd, 2007
Memorial to the District's dead of the Great War. Unlike the other memorials and monuments elsewhere on the Mall, this one has suffered from years of neglect. It was completed in 1931, but looks much older. To me, it is all the more moving because of its gritty semi-decay.
- Cherry Blossoms 2007
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- ouij
- April 3rd, 2007
- CONCACAF Champions' Cup: DCU 3 - 2 Olimpia; DCU win 7-3 on aggregate
-
- ouij
- March 2nd, 2007
Las night, I was standing on the Dupont Circle Metro platform when I saw a man wearing a DC United jersey, DCU scarf, and bearing an umbrella.
"Is the match against Olimpia tonight?" I asked him.
"Yes, at seven," he answered me, in Latino-accented English. The train pulled up, and he pointed at the carriages: "See how many people are going?"
Sure enough, the Red Line was full of the Red and Black. Knots of young DCU fans standing in the center of the car, chatting to each other. [One of them bore an uncanny resemblance to someone I used to know, but it would have been extremely weird to have asked "say, are you so-and-so's sister?" out of nowhere on the Red Line. . . ] Olimpia fans, in their Olimpia kit, chatting quietly in Spanish. No Tube hooligans, these--but they were on their way to a rainy RFK to watch the match.
I skipped the match, having forgotten my own rain gear. I tried to get it on the radio, but while I can receive minor-league hockey games from Quebec, I can't seem to pull any stations that have DCU matches. Christian Laettner, get us some radio time!
So, I had to settle for the newspaper reports. WaPo's Steven Goff covered the 3-2 win, but only in conventional American soccer style. The better story ran in Tegucigalpa's El Heraldo. I've translated it below, pretty freely. Those of you who read Spanish might want to read the article itself, but I've tried to give the flavor of what football writing in the rest of the hemisphere sounds like:
IT WAS A LATE REACTION, VERY LATE
Emotion and good football have taken the Copa Bimbo [Champions' Cup]. After two rounds there are already teams which are thought to be firm candidates to take the title. The Whites [i.e., Olimpia] arrived with a better attitude to RFK, on which snow fell until a certain hour of the night, and, later, an intermittent rain. But none of that hurt Olimpia more than Olimpia itself.
At the very least, in the first half, they [Olimpia] were not the team that fell behind, and they made the necessary effort to scare DC after gaining the advantage with Thomas' penalty-kick goal.
Barahona was fouled by Namoff in the area, and the returning Thomas had the cold-bloodedness necessary to put DC on notice that Olimpia was then not the same team that DC had faced in Tegucigalpa.
DC quickly realized that things were going to be difficult for them, and as a result made it 1-1 with Luciano Emilio. The biggest headache for the Whites, their ex-goalscorer and best foreigner of recent years, tied the match with a masterful play in which he tore himself away from three defenders and afterwards went right by Noel.
The first half was played with a parity which Cristian Gomez's witchcraft did not wait long to shatter. Disequilibrium! Barely two minutes of play had elapsed in the second half when Gomez converted a penalty kick brought on by a foul on Olsen by Figueroa.
Espinoza tried to breathe some life into his squad and with the arrival of substitutes Walter Lopez and Jose Pacini, was able to to achieve some degree of mobility forward across three-quarters of the pitch. Pacini made it 2-2 after pass from Wilson which couldn't have been better: He halted, surrounded by three defenders, filtered through to the open space, and the Whites' number 19 finished the job with a deft touch through the legs of the goalkeeper Perkins.
Before that, Walter Lopez had missed an easy chance on a high deflection. DC's goal was open, but he failed to convert. Maynor Figueroa committed yet another unnecessary foul, this time at midfield, and with that, won himself a trip to the showers.
To that numerical inferiority was added the goal-scoring efficacy of Luciano Emilio, who made it 3-2 after toying with Nahun Avila and finishing with a light touch to the far post which was guarded by Noel Valladares.
This was the end of Olimpia's dream, which ended much better than many thought it might have ended after the 4-1 result in Tegucigalpa. Olimpia had more smarts, more courage, but only as a late reaction.
* * *
- U Street Blues
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- ouij
- February 24th, 2007
I was walking along U street last night. A half-dozen black girls were chattering. I paid 'em no mind.
Then I heard it.
Ching chong ching chong ching.
I kept walking.
chink chink chink chink chink
I kept walking, but now my jaw was clenched,
He's thinking--goddamn black motherfuckers! I heard one say, and laugh. Then, whispering. Footsteps quick behind, and one tried to check me on the left, but lost her nerve. Saw me through his glasses! she said, scurring forward, giggling. One passed me on the right, pulling her hood up to hide her face. He ain't seein' MY face!
Now I lost my cool.
"Already saw it," I said, probably with more of an accent than I intended.
"OOOh, whatchoo gonna do, call the COPS?!"
"You gonna make me?"
The girls scampered off down U street, giggling.
It took me a few seconds and a few breaths to get my composure back. It had been a long time since anyone had called me a chink, still longer since anyone had thought it was a good idea to pick on me and push me around just because I was a chink. I was furious. Should I have turned around angrily and berated them? What should I have said? I never called you nigger--why do you have to call me a chink?
I was disappointed, most of all. A hundred and fifty years of progress in this country, and still we're doing this to each other?
- First villanelle--ever!
-
- ouij
- February 23rd, 2007
In honor of Dan "Steinbog" Steinberg's new look, I was moved to compose my first villanelle ever!
The blust'ry winter winds are soon to go--
The Sports Bog can be plenty sure of that,
Since Daniel Steinberg's lost his old chapeau.
The weatherman might doubt--but what's he know?
A groundhog shadow? What's the use of that?
These blust'ry winter winds are soon to go!
The Almanac can guess, but never know;
The D.C. Sports Bog can do more than that,
Since Daniel Steinberg's lost his old chapeau.
So readers: wear your scarves, but just for show--
Let Hoop and Net give way to Glove and Bat
These blust'ry winter winds are soon to go!
The Bog today just wanted you to know
A jacket's fine, but please omit the hat:
Look: Daniel Steinberg's lost his old chapeau.
Call Danny Snyder up in his chateau!
He may be shiv'ring. We'll have none of that:
These blustry winter winds are soon to go,
Since Daniel Steinberg's lost his old chapeau.
- Training FOR blinking twelves, BY blinking twelves
-
- ouij
- February 21st, 2007
Took babybro to the Wizards game after work. Snagged some good
seats--it's a birthday celebration, after all. The look on his face was
totally worth it. I love being kuya.
Watching Gil and the Wiz thump the Timberwolves mostly erased my office
aggro, but just so there's some sort of record, I'm going to describe
it.
The Superior Court for the District of Columbia has decreed that
henceforth (actually, since last week), all filings in civil matters
were to be electronic. To prepare us lowly support staff peons for this
change, our management prepared a series of training sessions for the
new ECF system that we were to attend or else. The first two
sessions were supposed to be quite good--a teleconference with someone
in charge of ECF, a PowerPoint presentation, and all the rest of it.
But those of us who had better things to do last week--you know, like
our jobs--passed on the first two sessions, leaving them for
people whose attorneys regularly filed papers in D.C. Superior Court.
No problem, management assured us. We'll prepare video training
sessions for you. Today was one such video training session.
I'll leave aside, for the moment, the usual rant about how
technologically-allergic many of my colleagues seem to be.
Anyway, management is not technologically allergic. They
couldn't be, since they arranged such a nice video training session for
us, right? Except that instead of actually talking to someone who knew
anything about audiovisual presentation, they went with the easy way
out: they simply pointed a camcorder at the screen during the
first (live) training session, and hit RECORD. So
where the original training session had high-quality images--which,
incidentally, were provided to us all via e-mail last week, the
video training session showed a mostly unreadable screen with heavily
distorted sound.
Since the screen was illegible, we were forced to go with the sound.
Other people were taking diligent notes, but since we had already been
provided with the PowerPoint slides, there wasn't much point--the slides
spoke for themselves. Most of us realized this, and began to drift off.
When I awoke with a start, the tape was still droning interminably on,
and most of the people in the training session were asleep.
Then, abruptly, it stopped.
The genius whose idea it was to point the camcorder at the
original screen in the first place had forgotten to plug the camcorder
into the wall at the start of this session. We had been running on
batteries which were now exhausted. It took two people to figure this
out. By this point, my soul had left my body to find something exciting
or at least productive to do, leaving me in inert anomie as someone else
called the guy who set up the training session back in. The genius
returned with the AC adaptor, but spent another ten minutes figuring out
where and how to plug the same adaptor in, and subsequently how to turn
on the camera. He managed to turn on the camera, finally, but in
"Camera" rather than "Playback" mode.
The camera, which had been hooked up to the conference room a/v stack,
briefly showed us sitting there passively before the air was rent by a
piercing shriek. Yes, the volume on the speakers was turned all the way
up, and genius pointed the camera--and thus its
microphone--right into the speakers, unleashing that beatiful
fingers-on-a-dusty-chalkboard sound of feedback.
Finally, the show was back on the road. More dozing. "Are there any
questions?" the tape asked.
I didn't stick around to find out.
- IT training
-
- ouij
- February 20th, 2007
. . . sucks ass. I mean, it really sucks ass. Why should I be compelled to sit through an hour of useless powerpoint presentations with a total information content of five minutes?
Because my co-workers are computer illiterates. Electronic case filing in the D.C. Superior Court is not complicated. We received TFM(tm) in our e-mail boxes last week. A simple notice of how that jurisdictions rules differ from the Federal courts would have been enough. We're all grown-ups. We know how to read, right?
Wrong. Management wants you to sit through a mandatory ECF training session, wasting half your afternoon.
From where I sit, I hear the rattle and hum of an IBM Selectric 2 typewriter--one drone that never really came to terms with the computer.
Why do we waste money on giving these people full-powered desktops when thin clients would do the same job for less power and greater security?
