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A Totally Fictitious Dialogue

This exact thing didn't happen to me yesterday.

Management: Hey developers, there's some great news for the company! We're looking into outsourcing your jobs!

Developers: Err. That's not great. That sucks. Why?

Management: Well, see, among other thing, these outsourcing companies have a big pool of programmers that they can draw from, to put as many resources as is necessary on a project, instantly!

Developers: Why not just hire some temps here?

Management: No, you see, the outsourcing companies will be able to keep enough people familiar with enough projects that there won't be any ramp-up time for people who are moved onto a new project - they'll already know the project well enough to jump right in!

Developers: OK. Then why not just hire some entry-level people here, de-specialize and cross-train the people we already have by moving some people from project A onto project B, and project C to A and B to C, etc.. for a while. Then, when project A needs people, you can pull them from wherever there's a little excess capacity. We already have deep knowledge of the projects and we're just as capable of learning multiple projects as those guys in Bangalore, ya know.

Management : No, because then we would have a fragmented workforce.

Developers: Whaa...? I notice you haven't blocked Monster.com. Thanks.

New

In the September Harper's, Donovan Hohn has a story called "Through the open door: Searching for deadly toys in China's Pearl River Delta". Near the beginning, he writes:

Consider for a moment the aesthetics of packaging, the wrappings of enchantment, the clamshells and plastic blisters that serve as both miniature shop windows and seemingly sterile cocoons. Consider the little transparent sticker placed like a hermetic kiss across the cardboard flap. This box has never been opened, it is there to tell us, or even, more superstitiously, The contents herein have never been touched. Slit that seal with a fingernail and something changes. Magic escapes. Unused, untouched, the contents of that box are nonetheless no longer brand new. The difference between the new and the brand new is like the difference between youthfulness and chastity. Think of the components individually wrapped inside their little plastic sachets, the power cords crimped into perfect coils. Think of the nested loaves of Styrofoam—Styrofoam, which is quite possibly the cleanest, whitest, lightest, chastest substance chemists have ever confected. It is functional, no doubt, preventing breakage while minimizing shipping costs. But it is also symbolic. The sound that snug Styrofoam makes as you coax it from the cardboard box is a Pavlovian signal: the squeak of the new.

I just love that: the description and what he's described.

dum, dum, dum, de dum dum, de duh de duh de dum dum dum... ah ah

John McCain's daughter has a blog, and she has a "Song Of The Day" feature. Today's song was Stereolab's "Ping Pong". And that's a fantastic song - my favorite Stereolab song, probably. So good for her.

But... as the daughter of a war-mongering, economically-clueless Republican douchebag, she might want to look up the lyrics to the songs she's thinking of choosing...

it's alright right 'cos the historical pattern has shown
how the economical cycle tends to revolve
in a round of decades three stages stand out in a loop
a slump and war then peel back to square one and back for more

bigger slump and bigger wars and a smaller recovery
huger slump and greater wars and a shallower recovery

you see the recovery always comes 'round again
there's nothing to worry for things will look after themselves
it's alright recovery always comes 'round again
there's nothing to worry if things can only get better

there's only millions that lose their jobs and homes and sometimes accents
there's only millions that die in their bloody wars, it's alright

it's only their lives and the lives of their next of kin that they are losing

etc..

What's next ? Dylan's "Masters Of War" ? Sabbath's "War Pigs" ?

To be fair, Stereolab's vocals alternate between French and English with a heavy French accent, and I usually just enjoy them as sounds, not as lyrics. So maybe she didn't know what the words were. Or maybe she just doesn't understand? Either way: look them up, next time!

Via Pitchfork by way of Yglesias