How To Win Friends And Influence People

Do I really have to lay down some ground rules?

It seems that I do.

This is my blog. It's my forum to moan, celebrate, criticize, lampoon, fantasize, parody, showcase and divulge whatever happens to be manifesting in my tiny mind at any given moment. It is not your blog and I do not take kindly to attempts - especially anonymous attempts - to hijack it in an attempt to perpetuate yet another blogging war that I have had no real stake in. If you have a beef that you want to shout about then kindly get your own blog and use it.

I am sick and tired of all the back-biting and bitching that is currently infesting the blogging world like a case of Herpes. In the last month I have heard of 4 blogs / bloggers who have been attacked, ganged up on and have suffered internet campaigns against them along the lines of attacks on public forums and bad reviews on StumbleUpon, etc. Their crime? Expressing opinions they are entitled to on their own blogs. At least one of these bloggers has closed their blog as a consequence after offensive comments were even directed towards their children. For Heaven's sake! What is wrong with you all?

Do you know why I started this blog? It wasn't to make friends (though friends I have made). It wasn't to achieve fame or notoriety. It wasn't to make money or sell other people's products. I really don't give a shit about any of that. It was simply to write and have my work read by (hopefully) likeminded individuals with similar goals. That is still my aim.

I am not interested in who did what to whom or who said what or even who is right or who is wrong in any given spat. I am not interested. And neither is the outside world.

I had the misfortune to get caught up in a blogging spat last month and without doubt it was the most tawdry affair I have ever been involved with during my time writing this blog. In the end I wrote about it (no, I am not linking to it: it's done and dusted as far as I am concerned) and received over 80 comments; the most comments I have ever received for a single blog post. At first I was pleased. So many supportive comments from people, most of whom I didn't even know. But then slowly the comments became darker. They were from people who just wanted to add their own twopenethworth to the row; to have a pop at so-and-so and perpetuate the whole nasty affair. These people have never been back to my blog since the affair died down and have not bothered to comment on any of my other posts. That says a lot doesn't it?

Well, I don't want these people back. They plainly have no interest in my blog or what I write. I'm not so in love with my stats that I'd regularly court that kind of trouble.

A couple of days ago another blogger wrote a post about the trouble I'd had and the trouble another blogger is currently having. The post expressed their dismay and was far gentler in tone than the one I'm writing now. It was a fair post too. However, they too have now been attacked and effectively blackballed. I received an anonymous comment last night on my previous post from the "blackballers" basically defending their position. They expressed no interest in my post at all; they just wanted to use my blog as a wall upon which they could scrawl their graffiti.

Well, I'm not interested. And I'm not allowing it on my blog.

This behaviour is petty playground tactics, people. It is not what I came to blogging about and it is not what I want to blog about. And if that means I get a bad review on some web site somewhere so be it.

I am happy with my little coterie of like-minded bloggers. I'm not interested in upping my stats or endorsing consumer products. I'm not interested in blogging awards or getting in with the blogging "in-crowd". I'm interested in the writing.

If you're not then simply go read someone else.

Take your gang warfare where it belongs - back to the gutter.

Erin Bloody Andrews!

Erin bloody Andrews? Erin bloody Andrews?

Who the hell is she?

OK. I’ve Googled her.

Oh.

Is that all? An American sportscaster on ESPN. Ah. And there’s the “peephole” story. Right. Now it all begins to makes sense...

See, all this began about 2 weeks ago. Due to employing comment moderation I – like many of you, I suspect – get emailed whenever anyone leaves a comment on my blog. A fortnight ago I began to receive anonymous comments – quite lengthy ones – about Erin Andrews. Virtually gobbledygook. Cut and paste jobs with a couple of links to “her peephole” video clumsily thrown in.

The first two I deleted without a second thought. They weren’t even on a new post; they were on one I wrote last year about Torchwood of all things (you can read it here if you are so minded). Not sure why that post should attract the attentions of Mr Peephole Video Salesman but plainly it did.

And then I got the same comment again.

And again.

And again.

So many agains in fact that again must now be capitalized. Again, Again and yet Again.

I’ve lost count of how many I’ve received now. Always the same. Always on the same post. The same text entirely.

Dealing with it is easy enough. Reject. Reject. Reject.

But after the first 12 times it begins to get tiresome. It begins to get annoying. So I leave a comment on the post in question addressed to Mr Anonymous.

Please stop leaving comments on my blog about Erin Andrews. I’m not going to publish any of them so it’s a complete waste of your time and my time trying. Please desist and eff off.

I’ve had 4 more attempts since then. The same comment. On the same post. I can guarantee there’ll be another one tomorrow.

My goat has now well and truly been got. It’s irritating. I check my emails and look – I’ve got mail! A new comment on my blog! Hoorah! My spirits soar. Only it’s not a new comment. It’s the same old one. The same old one that I’m never ever going to publish. Doh!

Who is this guy? He most definitely can’t be working for Erin Andrews, the poor cow. Is he working for Mr Peephole? Is he indeed Mr Peephole in person? I doubt it very much but what the hell then is he getting out of his repeated attempts to sell the whole tawdry little affair on my rather superlative blog?

Up until his comments I’d never even heard of Erin Andrews! If it had been Erin Gray from Buck Rogers' fame he might have piqued my interest a little but a sportscaster from a channel I can’t even get here in the UK and wouldn’t watch anyway because I absolutely hate effing sports programmes?!

It’s hardly a useful public service announcement, is it?

So what do I do about it? Any ideas? Anyone?

P.S. If any of you have any peephole videos that you want to advertize on my blog please ask my permission first.

P.P.S. And please make them of better quality than Mr Peephole’s; his really hurt my eyes.

Toodle-pip.

The Krays, George Davis, Harry Starks & Me

So I’m goin’ abaht me business, right? Nuffink too moody, just a bit of wheeling ‘n’ dealin’, nuffink to put the wind up the rozzers, like, but this geezer suddenly appears aht of the blue and ‘as a right go at me. Starts mouthin’ off abaht disrespect and how I’m gonna get me ‘ead blown off if I’m not careful, French kissin’ a sawn-off if you get my meanin’ and I’m like, simmer dahn wide boy, I ain’t done nuffink...

Or at least I don’t think I have.

It all began back in January. It was one of those weeks when I was scratching around for something to write about and, one morning on my way to work, my eyes happened to alight on a piece of graffito that adorned the walls of a boarded-up pub. “George Davis Is Innocent”.

Who the hell is George Davis, I thought? I’d never heard of him. Was he a local lad fallen foul of the law? I confess I Googled him and thus discovered that he was an East End dude who was banged up for an armed robbery which he did not commit. A big campaign ensued to get him released with the likes of Roger Daltry getting on board sporting a “George Davis Is Innocent” T-shirt.

Now whether it was a fit-up or not is not for me to discern. All I do know is the accepted facts of the matter are that he was later proven guilty of another armed robbery and got banged up a second time. You can read my original post here: George Davis Is Innocent.

Now my main impetus for writing the post was just a curious why did some 2010 graffiti artist drag this piece of retro graffiti out of the annals of 60’s gangland lore and splash it over a derelict pub in Leamington Spa? I thought no more of it than that. It seemed quite a safe topic to pursue. 40 odd years old. Ancient history. Pastimes’ graffiti.

Not so. Earlier this week I received quite a nasty comment in response to this post (only 5 month’s late but there we are) basically accusing me of not knowing what I was writing about and disparaging the fact I’d had to get my information from Wikipedia. It seems not being born in 1960’s gangland London and getting my information first-hand is something of an academic crime to the mysterious commenter (naturally he chose to remain anonymous). You can read his comments and my response at the bottom of the post.

Now I must admit here that, rather foolishly – and I do this every time – I stupidly had a go back. It’s so silly. And I slap my own wrist afterwards: don’t rise to the bait, Stephen, let it go! But no. It’s my blog and nobody is having a go at me on my own blog so I hit back with a crudely acidic comment. I was quite rude actually and used a word I don’t very often use. Now that I’ve calmed down I’ve thought better of it and deleted it.

Of course this was a red rag to a bull and Mr A. Nonymous came back. He accused me of all kinds of things. Of being a “green horne”. Of still wearing nappies – or rather napkins. Of being a paedo. And basically suggesting that if I’d’ve been around at the time of George Davis I’d’ve got my head blown off.

Hmm.

I naturally refuted those claims. I’ve been out of nappies for 41 years. I’ve paid for my own education and been around a bit (enough to know how to spell greenhorn correctly). I also doubted I would have got my head blown off. I think – and I stand by this – I’d’ve merely got a slap for being a bit gobby and then Ron and Reggie would have got on with the real business of turning Jack The Hat into a net curtain. I’d’ve been small fry.

Which all leads me to believe that Mr Anon E Mouse is either a small time face from 1960’s gangland London wistfully keeping his memories of the good old days alive or is, as I really suspect, some modern day barrow-boy sucking up the stories of his elders from pub talk and true crime books and has idealized the g[l]ory days of the East End into some kind of “ow’s yer father” make-believe heaven. The paedo jibe gives it away, I think. That’s very much a modern immature person’s insult. Though, of course, I could be wrong.

And that’s the worrying thing. Maybe this person really is a mobster? Maybe Harry Starks has stepped right out of one of Jake Arnott’s fine novels and into reality and is even now preparing a hot poker ready for our “little chat”?

I hope not. I find it bizarre that someone could have been so incensed by that one particular post as to have wasted time and energy insulting me and threatening me over it. What a strange world we live in. I do after all have a disclaimer at the bottom of my blog (if anyone ever bothers to read that far down) stating that the views here are purely mine and are not meant to be authoritative.

It makes you realize that Blogging – for all it is largely fun, light-hearted, personal, cathartic, etc – also has a much darker side. The bits of ourselves that we publish online are accessible to everyone. By the mentally imbalanced as well as the sane and well-adjusted. We are wide open to praise, criticism and threats. All because of what we write.

Does this mean I am going to be more careful in future? Avoid potentially dangerous subjects? Be more circumspect in my views?

What? Are you ‘avin’ a larf? Don’t get tasty wiv me, old son, this is my manna, right? My manna! Now sling yer ‘ook!

Gordon, Will You Stop Calling Me At Home?

You’d think Gordon Brown, our glorious PM, would have better things to do than to keep calling me all the time, especially when all he’s selling (by the sounds of it) is dodgy debt management facilities. But no, morning noon and night I’m plagued by his unwanted and unasked for telephone calls. I can guarantee that as soon as we get Tom down for a sleep or a midday nap the sodding phone will ring and the recorded message will kick in once more.

Recorded message? Yes...

See, Gordon isn’t actually calling live.

And, if I’m honest, it isn’t actually Gordon.

But the posh voice on the other end of the line is very keen to let me know that he’s calling from a “Government backed” debt management company, so Gordon Brown is definitely in the loop somewhere.

(Government backed? Makes me think of coups in other countries for some reason... hey ho...)

The annoying thing is if you hang up they just call back the next day. If you dial 9 as requested to be removed from their call-list you just know your telephone number has now been confirmed as “live” and other cold callers will start snaking their way through your communications defences. And dialing 1471 (caller ID) only presents you with the galling announcement that the originating number has been withheld.

So they get hold of my number to harass me but withhold their own number so I can’t trace them to complain?! Gits!

In the end I’ve had no choice but to bite the bullet and dial 9. So far so good. Nobody else has rung but it’s another black mark in Gordon’s copy book to my thinking.

All I need now is to find out that I’ve been charged for the bloody calls. I imagine it’s a great way to generate revenue.

Or maybe Gordon is paying for them himself on his expense account?

Now that, folks, is real debt management.

Show Me The Money

Yesterday my oldest friend, Tris, popped up to Leamington for a quick whistle-stop visit and we managed to take time out from our glamorous weekend routines to grab a quick coffee in town.

Tris and I have known each other since we were 7 or 8 years old, more or less, so it’s fair to say that nobody knows me as well as Tris – not counting Karen that is; I do think that to really know someone you have to live with them.

Anyway, we had a lot of catching up to do and amid the domestic tale telling I filled Tris in on my current web design business woes – Mr Chauffeur Man still hasn’t coughed up the £500 he owes me. Tris was very complimentary about the chauffeur site – something I very much needed to hear after last week’s attacks by Mr Anonymous / Mr Web Designer – and also revealed that if the site had been designed and built by the company he works for in London they would have charged a cool £30,000 for it!

My jaw dropped open so fast I think I dislocated it and left a permanent notch in the table.

I must point out that Tris works for Saatchi & Saatchi so he’s quoting S&S prices. But even so…

I’m beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’m selling myself a little bit short…

Planet Steve

I feel a little bit calmer after the histrionics of the weekend though the whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not sure why it got to me so much. Usually I snarl back and then let it go; move on... but I felt quite poisoned by ‘Saturday’s event’.

I’m sure a lot of it is due to high stress levels at the moment – Karen’s pregnancy is totally exhausting her, I’m under extra pressure at work due to the extended clean-up operation after the flood, I’m still receiving hassles but no money from my horrible web site clients, a shedload of money/mortgage worries, broken sleep... gah! All of it has conspired to make me hyper sensitive and all too easily knocked off my feet by the slightest motion. Planet Steve feels in danger of shattering like a cut glass goblet at any moment. One high C and crash tinkle tinkle smash.

I guess I need to focus on the positive though. Karen is beginning her maternity leave at the end of August – so barely 2 weeks to go and she can rest properly. Her bosses have also been very understanding and supportive which has been a great help. I’ll be a lot happier knowing that she’s resting at home next month I must admit rather than flogging herself at work to the point of collapse. Work and pregnancy are plainly not a great combination for her!

As for my horrible client. Well... it’s been a steep upward curve. It’s taught me a lot about what not to do and who not to work for. Most of all it’s taught me to never ever doubt my gut instincts. Most of all it’s taught me that money should never be the deciding factor in anything. There’s very little I can do now to the site – the last hurdle is just getting the money out of the client and then I can shut my doors on the whole situation for good. I can’t effing wait.

The comments of Mr Anonymous have had one positive effect: they’ve made me review the work I produce and made me decide to be a lot more careful about how I pitch it and who I pitch it to in future. I can’t compete with the big boys and I think it’s important I acknowledge that to myself and to future clients. The people I want to deal with want something modest and affordable – not huge, corporate looking, data collecting web site behemoths. There’s a niche in the market for what I can offer and as long as my clients are happy with what I produce I don’t see that anybody else need throw their opinion into the mix.

Mortgage worries.... Geez. Don’t we all have them? After a good discussion about it all with Karen over the weekend I’m going to shop around and speak to a few banks. See if I can reschedule some loan repayments to free up some income – enough to ensure we have a decent safety margin should interest rates leap up another notch (which seems likely). Where to start is beyond me though. I find the world of finance and banking something of a turn-off and as a consequence my knowledge of such things is minimal.

So, things might still be a bit overcast on Planet Steve but I’m going to do my damnedest to encourage clear, blue skies and green horizons... if I can’t do that then I shall at the very least invest in some decent wellies.

Attacked

I must admit to feeling quite upset this morning.

God knows we all receive negative comments every now and then and most of the time I hope that when they come my way I take them on the chin when they're deserved and give as good as I get when I think they're not.

This morning, however, I awoke to some comments on my blog which felt like personal attacks. I didn't publish them as they were from the ever misanthropic anonymous: although one did have the startling nom de plume "a web designer" it was fairly obvious they were all from the same person.

Basically the web sites I design are "bad" and my writing it seems isn't up to much cop either. It seems also that I'm not funny, though in brackets Mr Anon was keen to point out that I myself obviously think that I am.

I'm still wondering if I made the right decision by not publishing them - maybe I should have let you all read them too? As it was I decided to stick to my guns: no anonymous posts get published on my blog. Plus I didn't want to resurrect the upset they engendered in me every time I re-read them. I don't need that kind of crap in my life... so click. They're gone.

Part of me suspects they were a personal attack from someone who knows me. Part of me wonders if maybe I'm just hoping that's true so that it in someway invalidates what they said.

Anyway, a healthy stint in the garden - lawn mowing and the like - has righted my keel a little more now but that cloud of upset remains over me.

Maybe my web sites are bad? Certainly I acknowledge that they cannot compete with stuff you'd have designed for you by a huge company: I work alone and my knowledge base is therefore tiny in comparison. However, this is reflected in the prices I charge and I believe they are more than fair. Whatever, once the price has been agreed between me and the client that is the end of it. I deserve to get paid when the work is done. And I believe I have a perfect right to complain when this doesn't happen (the insinuation was that I had no right to the complaints detailed in the previous post).

And maybe my writing is bad too? That's a difficult one to answer. I can after all only write as I do. And I'm glad (arrogant maybe) to say that I've had far more people offer praise than criticism - though the latter I am always hungry for when it is constructive and helpful. Comments that I am "lame" and "not funny" aren't really helpful at the end of day. That's a subjective response. Sure you're entitled to feel that way Mr Anon but rather than leave a snide comment about it why don't you take your reading abilities elsewhere?

Ultimately Mr Anon, I wonder what the point of your comments were. To cause upset? To make yourself feel superior for a moment or two? Hey I can sympathise. I'm sure I'm guilty of such things myself some of the time. We all are.

Just don't do it on my blog. This is a forum for me to expunge my dirt. Not yours. And I believe that here I can write whatever the hell I like...

Television Is Evil (Apparently)

After writing quite an innocuous blog entry last week about wanting to work less and spend more time with my family – All Work And No Play - I’ve found myself inexplicably attacked by Mr Anonymous (the Mr Man that Roger Hargreaves couldn’t be bothered to write about) who, after presumably skimming through a few of my other blog entries, jumped to the huge conclusion that the reason I don’t have enough time with my family is because I watch far too much television. For those of you who are interested, you can read his sanctimonious outpourings by clicking on the Comments link at the bottom of the entry in question.

Now my first reaction was one of immense anger and I still feel hugely offended. You’ll see from my replies that I generally watch no more than 2 hours of television a day. Hardly a massive family-quality-time sapping amount is it? Mr Anonymous however, undoubtedly with his nose in the air, countered with the argument that 2 hours a day soon adds up if you total it up over a year.

I find such statistics deeply irritating. They’re the usual recourse of the unimaginatively smug. Ah yes – you might only pick your nose for 2 minutes day but added up over a lifetime that equals 912 hours! 912 hours when you could be doing something far more worthy and important! So what are you supposed to do? Never pick your nose again and write a Nobel Peace Prize winning novel with the extra time that you’ve gained?

What rubbish. It’s unrealistic as well as being impractical and stupid.

Such statistics are utterly meaningless.

My biggest gripe, however, is the fact that Mr Anonymous has read a handful of my Blog entries and has just assumed that I choose to watch television rather than spend time with my family. That’s deeply offensive: (a) because nobody has the right to make judgements about me, my life and the intimate workings of my family life based upon a few flimsy blog entries and (b) I generally watch television WITH my family. And it’s not a passive viewing pastime either – Karen and I debate and discuss constantly the issues that are presented towards us. The television is far from being an “idiot box” in our house.

But even if it was who the hell has the right to tell me – or indeed you – that you have no right to relax in whatever way you see fit? I work effing hard. So does my wife. If we want to relax by watching TV, taking up Pilates, tying ourselves in knots with yoga or knitting voluminous sweaters out of spaghetti then so be it. Nobody has the right to say we can’t or intimate that our choice of relaxation is harming our relationship!

Mr Anonymous how dare you!

You obviously spend far too much time in front of the computer reading other people’s blogs and making ill-informed judgements about the owners based upon what you read. I could easily argue that such a pastime is bad for you and your own relationships. Why aren’t you spending that time with your family – if indeed you have one? Why don’t you count up how many hours you spend being sanctimonious over a year and try and decide whether it’s a worthy use of your time?

Personally, as far as I’m concerned, you can do what the effing hell you like with your life.

Just kindly butt out of mine.

Related Blog: A Blog On The Spectrum.

All Work And No Play

I’m a victim of my own success (well, ain’t we all, luvie?) –

I’ve got so much web work coming in at the moment on top of my day job that I’m practically working 10 hour days... the consequence being that I’m either tired, grouchy, hyper-actively detached or, as is often the case, all three.

Karen very tactfully pointed out to me last night that it’s got to stop before I run myself into the ground. And she’s right too. I feel like I’ve hardly seen her or Ben over the last three weeks and I can’t recall the last time I didn’t feel like I was carrying a two tonne weight on my shoulders.

I need to get into the habit of better time management – placing R & R time a lot higher up the list than it currently is. After all, look at it this way: why should work get the best I have to offer when it leaves me with nothing for those I love?

I’m turning into a fat, balding workaholic. Accept I’m neither fat nor balding thankfully. And being a workaholic is the last thing I thought I’d ever be. I’m supposed to be a languorous Leo for heaven sake!

It’s time to kick back and have some fun!