when the status quo frustrates.

How to Enter a Cleanroom

Friday, November 2nd, 2007

Last year, I was fortunate enough to have to work in a cleanroom once a week, which as the name implies is supposed to be a Very Clean Room. I had largely forgotten about that fun until today, when iGoogle posted in its “how to” section on my homepage these instructions for entering a cleanroom, apparently written by someone who once read about entering a cleanroom. Since this is very helpful knowledge for anyone thinking of getting a job in a cleanroom, and you are by the way insane, I thought I’d pass it on to you.

A cleanroom is an environment, typically used in manufacturing or scientific research, that has a low level of environmental pollutants such as dust, airborne microbes, aerosol particles and chemical vapors. If you have been asked to work in one, you’ll need to take the appropriate steps to avoid introducing contamination.

A cleanroom is a room that has anywhere between 1 (1!) and 1,000,000 particulates of certain sizes (they measure down to 0.1 micron, or 0.0000001 m, particles for the cleanest ones) per cubic foot of air. In comparison, the air in your room is practically a solid block of crap containing five hundred million to a billion particles per cubic foot, some of which you can actually see. In America, the opportunities to spend all day in this hellishly pristine environment are few and far between; a mid-sized class 100 cleanroom can cost millions of dollars to build and takes up tons of space, and they are insanely expensive to maintain. In Asia, where our TVs and laptops come from, labor is cheaper than automation for many cleanroom tasks and thousands of fortunate Chinese technicians get to spend all day, every day in “bunny suits.” Some clean rooms are so clean that people get to wear two bunny suits to go in them, and those are the luckiest people of all.

Aside from regular wiping-down and vacuuming, a cleanroom is kept clean by constantly filtering the air. New air is drawn in from the outside, completely dehumidified and scrubbed, then rehumidified before being forced through the ceiling. The air is drawn through to the floor where it is dismissed as filthy, takes a pit stop in a filter to remove any dangerous vapors, and is chucked back outside. I forget why they don’t recycle, but rest assured there is a very good reason because all of this filtering is not cheap and cleanroom administrators all over the world would be very, very interested in making that process less costly.

The reason for all of this excessive care is to protect delicate and expensive processes from the dirty dirty world, and no part of the world is filthier than you and your clothes. For this reason, there is a special outfit and elaborate gowning procedure that anyone who wishes to enter a cleanroom must follow. Go to the bathroom first, because this is going to take awhile. I’ll wait.

Ok, ready? Let’s go:
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Fake Labour Day!

Monday, September 3rd, 2007

Pyramid of work

If you live in North America, you might have gotten a day off today owing to the success of the ruling class in banishing the spectre of labour history from the minds of the toiling masses. You should have actually got May 1st off.

Here are a few drive-by links:

Nihilistic_kid talks about racist and nativist sentiments in the labour movement…and speculative fiction community.*

Race and class have always been tied together, and only fools and bosses try to separate them out. For a while, Debs was a fool. For a much longer period, the labor movement was Fool Central, and there is still plenty of foolishness to go around. When assisting in the ultimately failed attempt to organize some Manhattan bicycle messengers into the Teamsters in the 1990s, I saw that some the black and Latino messengers got “information packets”about the union from their employer, in which it explained that labor unions were much like the Ku Klux Klan and held down minorities and women. That’s a hard charge to beat, but is much harder when it’s true. Naturally, in our case it was false — though there were plenty of reactionary characters in the Teamsters, especially those who were collecting big checks to “organize”…nothing. They got theirs already, and this sort of race-bating, not effectively answered as a matter of principle, helped doom the organization drive. Racism and chauvinism split movements far more decisively than flag-waving and chest-thumping about class to the exclusion of race helps movements. That’s why the labor movement had to learn to shuck off the ideologies of racism and nativism — a lesson it keeps having to learn, actually.

Speaking of the Ku Klux Klan, did you hear what happened to them in Knoxville?

“White Power!” the Nazi’s [sic] shouted, “White Flour?” the clowns yelled back running in circles throwing flour in the air and raising separate letters which spelt “White Flour”.

“White Power!” the Nazi’s angrily shouted once more, “White flowers?” the clowns cheers and threw white flowers in the air and danced about merrily.

“White Power!” the Nazi’s tried once again in a doomed and somewhat funny attempt to clarify their message, “ohhhhhh!” the clowns yelled “Tight Shower!” and held a solar shower in the air and all tried to crowd under to get clean as per the Klan’s directions.

Finally, the most recent update to the I.W.W. vs. Starbucks is in the New York Daily News.

“We don’t think people should spend their hard-earned money on a company that has no respect for its workers,” said union organizer Daniel Gross, 28, outside the Manhattan courtroom where the hearings are taking place.

“Any time workers organized, the company responded with a vicious anti-union campaign,” Gross added.

The charges stem from incidents at four Starbucks locations in the city. The labor relations panel, an independent federal agency that mediates labor disputes, found enough merit in 30 of the union charges to take the company to court.

And with that, I am off to mourn the end of summer.

* I don’t really know the context of the latter. Apparently, I need to do more reading.

Americans don’t need no stinking immigrants serving their frozen drinks or rescuing their children from drowning.

Thursday, July 19th, 2007

Every cloud has a silver lining. The best part about any needlessly reactionary legislative battle is waiting for the unintended consequences to pop up. Like remember when a bunch of states made vague anti-gay-marriage Constitutional amendments and now it’s harder in those states to get a DV conviction if you’re not married to the guy who’s punching you? That will always be the classic example, but now we have another example that is almost as good.

Remember that Senate immigration bill clusterfuck? The one that when we heard ‘immigrant’ we were supposed to think ‘Mexican’? The one that pleased exactly no one?

Well, it turns out that there are other countries besides Mexico, and some of the people who live in those countries would like to work in America for a short amount of time. Who knew? And we’re not talking filthy brown leprosy-spreading farmhands, here – we’re talking about the sexy young Eastern Europeans who guard your pools and ski slopes. Yes, that’s right, in our rush to prevent the bad kind of immigrant- you know, your poor huddled masses yearning to breathe free- from undercutting Americans who might want to do excruciating farm work under an unrelenting sun for sub-minimum wages, we accidentally hurt those we need the most: the young foreign adventure-seekers who keep our seasonal attractions running smoothly.

Among the casualties when the bill collapsed was the expansion of a visa program called H-2B, which allows employers to recruit 66,000 foreigners a year to fill jobs for up to six months. The bill would have lifted the cap to 100,000 and would also have made permanent an exemption that now allows in thousands more temporary workers but is set to expire on Sept. 30.

H-2B has become so popular among resort operators, race tracks, casinos, landscapers and others that this summer’s supply of visas ran out in March. Democratic Sen. Barbara Mikulski of Maryland, where the seafood industry depends on Mexican H-2B workers to pick the meat from Chesapeake Bay crabs for canning, has vowed to attach an expansion of the program to other legislation.

Ignore the bit about the crab canning, because we will not be seeing too much of those Mexicans again for the rest of the article.

Stephen Lavery, president of Virginia-based High Sierra Pools Inc., says that he hired neighborhood kids as lifeguards when he began his pool-management company 18 years ago, but that the labor source soon began to dry up. College students began taking internships that would buff their post-graduation résumés, or sought jobs they could continue during the school year. High-school students signed up for summer courses or exotic travel to build up their college applications.

…Mr. Lavery, whose company provides lifeguards and maintenance to 250 Washington-area pools, says his first H-2B hires a dozen years ago were Germans. But the dollar has weakened against the euro and Western European students have flocked to European Union countries where they don’t need visas and can earn more money.

That has forced pool operators to recruit further east each year. This year for the first time, Mr. Lavery has workers from Kazakhstan and Russia, in addition to such mainstay H-2B suppliers as Bulgaria and the Czech Republic. “I’ve heard there’s options in Thailand,” he says.

This actually does suck a lot because the H-2B seems like a great way to see America. It kind of makes me wish I’d typed “work in Europe” into Google at least once back when I had summers free:

On a recent bright Saturday, Patricia Fajtova, a 21-year-old Slovak marketing student, explained how she came to be sitting guard at an apartment-house pool in Washington using a temporary cultural-exchange visa: “I typed ‘work in the USA’ into the Google,” and up popped the Sierra Pools Web site, she said.

…All three women said they opted for jobs in the U.S. after concluding that careers and marriage will soon limit their opportunities to visit. “We have more chance to see Europe later,” said Ms. Ivosevic.

So this was kind of a win-win situation for everyone. Sure, it was kind of a pain in the ass for employeers, but they were clearly getting quality workers and young people were getting an opportunity to fund some travel and anyone who’s worked seasonal jobs at recreational facilities knows that that’s normally a blast. I’d worked in an amusement park for three summers, and I’d jump all over the chance to do that in Spain or Germany or even Japan.

Then we had to go all “gahh! Mexicans!” And while we absolutely failed to do anything useful about the Mexican ‘problem’ (whether you defined the problem as the mere presence of Mexicans in America or the way they’re exploited once they get here) we did manage to bone our ski resort managers and those nice Slovakian kids who guard the community pool. Good on us.* I guess we’ll put that in the ‘ironic victories’ pile, with all the others.

*Since this will largely inconvenience those with the means to go skiing or to resorts, I actually mean that. Somethings got to wake these people up because if we were thinking then this sort of thing wouldn’t be happening, right?

Love Your Job, Bitch

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

Well hello! Long time no see! I’m sure nothing whatsoever has happened in my absence. I have actually been writing here goddamn near every day but fucking Marc has scrubbed the archives in fear of… ellipses and incomplete sentences. I cuss too much, apparently, and somebody had to scrub my dirty, dirty, filthy fucking mouth. Fucking dirty, filthy mouth. Do you like that?

I’m Catholic.

fap.gif

Fap is about right, I thought during our AM meeting last week, when the big cat sauntered into the Big Media Co. conference room and told us how much we have to love our jobs, lest we lose them.

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Being a Geekly Blog We Prefer Not To Pick On The Geeks, But Here I Go

Tuesday, December 19th, 2006

One of the perks of working at Big Media Co. is free services. Free internet connection, free movies, free cable, free telephone. For someone making jack-shit-you-owe-us-a-dollar wages this is a mighty big benefit, not to mention that it helps with the porn sales:

“I understand that you didn’t mean to order Barnyard Bunnies: Taking Out the Trash eight times while your family was at church last Sunday, but have you ever considered a broadband connection? There is a lot of adult programming on the internet for free. I could have it installed for you within the week?”

I forget how important it is for people to have a solid internet connection, considering I don’t pay a penny for my own. And considering they usually pay upwards of forty dollars a month. And considering that our service hasn’t exactly been up to par lately. Rolling outages have been plaguing the area after the failure of a major piece of equipment several weeks ago. This infuriates users of Vonage and MMORPG enthusiasts.

A couple of weeks ago I got a call from one client, a man who seemed disproportionately angry at what was at that time a temporary issue. While he bitched and moaned and threatened to cut off his service I perused the notes on his account. Not only had he been given two months of credit for two weeks of outages, he had already called the office twelve times that day. Like a good customer service representative, I forwarded him to technical support mid-sentence.

His name is quickly becoming a metaphor for “pain in the ass” around the office. I get you’re pissed that your service isn’t working. Disconnect and move along.

During a slow period today, because I remember douchebags like this guy, I read his account notes again to see what he’d been up to. As usual, he’d been calling more than ten times a day, demanding managers and credit, completely flipping his shit about the internet service. Every time he called he threatened to disconnect and yet neglected to do so. Finally, I saw why.

Buried in his account notes was a small detail I had neglected to see before. Because he had been unable to use the internet at full download speeds, he couldn’t get the amount of gameplay needed to maintain his skill level as a Level 4 Mage in World of Warcraft. And although I am loathe to speculate on others’ lives or rely on the use of stereotype to discern a person’s life experiences, I suddenly realized why he has the time to call us over twenty times in on 24-hour period.

It sounded so good in the boardroom. Why are these proles still complaining?

Monday, December 4th, 2006

WalMart reaches out and snags the “World’s Most Clueless Corporation” trophy right out of Northwest’s hands.

Faced with workers talking about unions and public demonstrations about how much they suck, WalMart phones it in with a “wide-ranging new program intended to show that it appreciates its 1.3 million workers in the United States and to encourage them to air their grievances.” I am, for some reason, reminded of Homer Simpson (“Marge, I ate a pie, I took a nap, what more can one man do?”)

As part of the effort, Wal-Mart managers at 4,000 stores will meet with 10 rank-and-file workers every week and extend an additional 10 percent discount on a single item during the holidays to all its employees, beyond the normal 10 percent employee discount.

Whoooo! Don’t go ’round spoiling those employees, WalMart. A weekly dog and pony show AND an additional 10% off of the original 10% your employees already enjoy off of your everyday low prices. Damn, I can see why you had to limit that to one apiece; gotta set some boundries or they’ll be walking all over you.

Why the magnanimous gestures? Oh, yeah:

Over that time, Wal-Mart has sought to create a cheaper, more flexible labor force by capping wages, using more part-time employees, scheduling more workers at nights and weekends, and cracking down on unexcused days off.

I think every one of us who has ever had a crappy service job can read between those lines.

But hey, as long as WalMart appreciates it, who cares if you can’t get 40 hours or if your pay is kept arbitrarily low unless you can jump through sufficient hoops to get one of them leadership positions.

And appreciate they do.

The program includes several new perks “as a way of saying thank you” to workers, like a special polo shirt after 20 years of service and a “premium holiday,” when Wal-Mart pays a portion of health insurance premiums for covered employees. Sarah Clark, a spokeswoman for Wal-Mart, said the program was a “a more formalized, contemporary approach” to communicating with and collecting feedback from its fast-growing work force.

Let’s go over that again: a special polo shirt after 20 years of service. The paying health insurance premiums during the holiday season is a great idea, too bad even that can’t overcome the stench of suck that flows from the rest of the appreciation program.

I think it’s the heartless insincerity that’s causing most of the problems:

Kory Uselton, a 35-year-old overnight floor cleaner at a Wal-Mart in Tyler, Tex., said his store manager offered “robotic” company-approved responses during a recent meeting when workers questioned the new attendance policy, which originally called for disciplinary action after three unauthorized absences (although it was later revised to four unexcused absences).

Asked if absence for a family emergency, like a sick child, would be authorized, Mr. Uselton recounted, the manager said, “No, it’s not.”

And the staggering cluelessness:

Among other things, she said, there was a toll-free hotline workers could call to report ethical lapses, a Web site on which chief executive H. Lee Scott Jr. answered questions and a policy, known as the “open door,” that permitted anyone to bring complaints to officers at the highest level of the company.

Sure, who’s going to volunteer to use thier whole weekend’s worth of unexcused absences to go down to Bentonville and narc on the management that takes their own cues from the very people in Bentonville with the open door policy.

“Excuse me, High-Level Executive? Umm, management is very harsh and everyone is upset because they don’t make enough money to pay the doctor when their kid is sick and they’ll get fired for staying home to nurse it. Can you do something?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, the instant callousness stops being so very profitable.”

“Umm, any idea when that will be? And could you maybe up the discount to 15% so we can afford more children’s fever reducer?”

“No. And no.”

Anyway, why waste your time with meaningless appreciation tokens when no one appreciates it?

Cleo Forward, a 37-year-old support manager at a Wal-Mart in Dallas, said the new program was promising, but that it fell short in recognizing long-time workers who felt unappreciated by the changes.

“They are going to spend $15 on a Polo for you after 20 years? Give me a break,” he said. “We would rather they lift the wage caps.”

Jeez, what a bitch, huh? Just between you and me, I don’t think she’s really earned that polo, if you know what I mean.

Also, aren’t good polo shirts closer to $30? Jesus, even with their employees’ everyday low expectations, WalMart still comes up a day late and a dollar short. Maybe if there was a hoody or a fanny pack or something in 5 year increments to tide them over until they earn that polo, maybe then they’d stop talking to union organziers? Don’t look at me like I’m the crazy one. Desparate times call for desparate measures.

Gobsmacked

Thursday, September 7th, 2006

Saturday, Job #2, 6pm

McBoing to Coworker: I’m fucking tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.

Coworker: Me too. I stayed up forever on my front porch watching the cops chase a nigger up a tree.

McBoing: (jaw drops) (glares at coworker) (says nothing like a fool)

8pm, Coworker drops the n-bomb again

McBoing:

Coworker: I really need to stop saying that word. It really cuts into my tips.

McBoing: One day you’re going to get your ass handed to you for that.

Coworker: Oh, really?

McBoing: Yeah. Really. And you’ll deserve it.

Coworker: I ain’t a racist or anything.

***

Someday I may get the guts to whale on this piece of shit myself instead of waiting for someone else to do it. In the meantime, I told the boss about this “conversation” — sorely lacking on my part, I realize — and the boss, an old friend, said that this coworker and others, all of whom insist they aren’t racist, managed to force a black man out of the job a few months back with cold words and underhanded strategies. The boss tried to keep him. I don’t blame him for leaving.

I’ve got more apps in the mail.

McBoing Gets a Visit From a Certain Special Fairy

Thursday, August 31st, 2006

I have a few computer-related pet peeves, and one of them are those history and favorites bars in IE. And IE. The first thing I did when I finally got my own work station was download Firefox and revel in my tabbed goodness. I like a large screen resolution, I want to cram as much information in front of my face as possible, and because I have to have so many windows that have to be open on the screen for actual work, I will not be assaulted by a fat extra bar in my browser.

Imagine my surprise when I get to my computer this morning and find IE glomming itself across the monitor. With the history bar open. Knowing that I certainly didn’t open this window, I clicked around.

Backseatbangers.com. In the history bar. On my computer. In IE. In the history bar, listed under Today.

I grabbed my supervisor. “Just so you know, I never use IE. But look at this.”

“Oh my god.” She seemed unfazed. The day before I caught her singing 2 Live Crew in her cubicle.

“I swear I just logged on.”

“Whoever went to that site certainly spent a lot of time there.”

“Sabotage?”

“Nah. Probably the cleaning crew.”

I Hate Eating, I’m Trying To Quit

Saturday, August 19th, 2006

Back for my weekly cry. Hold me.

Forgive me for being spare around here lately. I haven’t been well. As of this week my fellow trainees and I discovered at Customer Service Hell Co. that they plan on hiring a new batch of people next month — but they aren’t using a temp agency. Interesting, I thought. That means that with the three-month period I am employed by the temp agency and the six month probation period, I am not even eligible for benefits until the end of April 2007. The newest batch of trainees, however, will be eligible that March.

Let me tell you why this pisses me off.

1. I can’t eat,

2. because every time I eat I get an awful stomache ache that leaves me doubled-over in pain for several hours. This probably means I should see a doctor, especially since

3. I throw up every morning. Every fucking morning. However,

4. I can’t afford to go to a doctor because
a. I don’t have insurance,
b. I can’t take time off,
c. I currently owe over $300 to the local health network for receiving medical services I couldn’t pay for after I was shitcanned this year,
d. So if I see a doctor I have to pay for all services rendered at the time I receive them. This ain’t cheap.

5. I’m hungry, and I want to eat something, but I can’t unless I’m willing to put myself out of commission for a four hour block of time. Plus I get cranky when I’m hungry.

6. I’d go to the free clinic, but there is a six-month-long waiting list for adults.

7. Did I mention that any food I digest turns to poo stew in roughly twenty minutes?

Someone suggested that I may be allergic to gluten or wheat, which is a totally helpful comment since I can’t actually get to a doctor for an allergy test. So yeah. If anyone has a good IV stand they’re willing to sell me, leave a message in the comments.

Fucking Kill Me

Friday, August 18th, 2006

“My TV isn’t working.”

Is it plugged in?

“Oh. Ha.”

You’d better be fucking-ha happy that it’s time for my smoke break, asstard.

Transferral of Honesty

Thursday, August 10th, 2006

Training on the phones at Big Media Provider Co.

“I need to transfer my service at 123 Main Street to 345 Elm Street.”

I would do that for you ma’am, but I see you have an outstanding balance of $322.27 on your account, and you will have to pay that in full before I can disconnect your account at your old place.

“But you’re about to disconnect my old place for non-payment.”

Yes, in two days.

“But you’re also saying that I can’t disconnect at my old place?”

Yes, ma’am, that is exactly what I’m saying.

“I never pay my electric bill and you don’t see them disconnecting me.”

I’m glad to hear that, ma’am, but there is very little I can do about this situation. You are required to make a payment on this deficit before the computer will allow me to transfer your account to your new address. You can pay as little as 80% on this account and the balance will transfer to your new address for the price of at $257.82 before tax. Will you be paying that with check or credit card today?

“I can’t pay that much money, you fucking asshole. How the hell did you people come up with a three hundred dollar bill?”

It wasn’t me, it was the porn fairies. They’re everywhere.

I swear I didn’t order that filth.”

You’re Telling Me

Thursday, August 10th, 2006

Work is bad for you:

Sydney University academic Dr Caroline West says while work delivers self-esteem, income and social ties, more than four to six hours a day will bring anxiety, exhaustion and a poor quality of life.

“We’ve structured our lives so the majority of our waking life is devoted to work, which might bring us more money but doesn’t make us more fulfilled,” Dr West said.

“So long as there’s a trend to work these really long hours you’ll continue to see the plateauing and decline of people’s wellbeing.”

I’ll forward this to my boss first thing tomorrow morning.