Tube strike in London this evening. Knew I was going to be late home so cycled in, under the expert navigational tutelage of a certain NNer, and cycled back again along the Thames Path realizing just how much I love this city. Had dinner, bath, and a glass of whisky and now I’m feeling relaxed, which means I’m going to witter about any old thing that enters my head.
As I said in my keynote at the RIN (I blogged about it… ah, here and slides, too), if you’re me, you get nutters writing to you and asking you to do stuff for them. And then they insult you, but that’s all right because I just laugh in my beard at them and get Eva to say rude things (see slide 40) on my behalf.
I got two people writing to me today, asking for interviews with me for projects. One was a DPhil student (with enough information that I could google her and find out that yes, actually, she sounds interesting), who sent a politely-worded and literate email, who was happy to come to London to chat, and most accommodating with respect to my work day. The other some random student doing a dissertation at a somewhat northern University. Asking for a phone call or skype conversation. He happened to also cc: a Dr Gee of Norfolk—I’ve seen such emails before and it’s basically asking “will you do my homework for me please?”. (Before you ask, I assume they’ve seen my disclaimer.)
Now, this is a bit like Twitterers following you and then you go and look at their profile and see that they’ve protected their updates. Look, if I don’t actually know you, I can’t be arsed asking you to allow me to see your updates, no matter how interesting you think you are. A little bit like that, anyway. Except much, much worse.
Guys, I’m busy. I’m not a student: I actually work for a living. Time, actually, is money. If you want something from me, then throw me a bone. Make it worth my while. I’ll put you in my calendar and have lunch, as long as I think I might get something from you: even if it is just a massive ego stroke, or chance of lunch with a half-way interesting person.
But don’t assume I agree with your half-baked ideas, don’t think I’m here to do your homework, and above all remember: I don’t like sitting next to the nutter on the bus.
But don’t assume I agree with your half-baked ideas, don’t think I’m here to do your homework
This is something I deal with a lot. My boss does enjoy it, I don’t. = Friction, but a great, driven work environment. usually.
a somewhat _northern_ Universityyou say that like it’s automatically a bad thing
A handy hint… pretend to be a nutter on the bus, then people won’t want to sit next to you either.
“and get Eva to say rude things (…) on my behalf.”
I’m sweet and lovely and I smell like freshly-mowed grass and newly-baked bread!
Nutters. Sometimes they are fun and turn out to have interesting tales to tell. Sometimes they sing too loudly for 8:30am on the A train. The thing is you never know?
As a nutter who frequently rides the bus, I resent this post.
I think Beta Gal has the best idea. That would come easy to me, too.
Cath, we’re talking even more northerer than your flat cap.
bq. Cath, we’re talking even more northerer than your flat cap.
I think some of you don’t really know what “northern” means.
P.S. what Bill wrote.
My friend Dr M. N. of New York is an expert on dinosaurs. He used to get inquiries of this sort all the time. I say ‘used to’, because after a while he decided to impose a flat fee of $100 for his services. Worked like a charm.
What Bob said 😉
(My degrees are from Newcastle and Glasgow, and there’s plenty more North beyond that)
As one drives up the west coast of Scotland, all the towns and villages from Fort William onwards have a sign at the Top-end of the community that invariably points to “The North”. I am pretty certain there was one of the signs in Scourie and there is not much due North of that. Interestingly (or possibly not) there isn’t a symmetrical sign at the other end of these places pointing to “The South”.
I do like that disclaimer. Very nice.
But…
What is Social Media?
Richard, Richard… I expected better of you. Media are plural. 😉
Media are, but ‘Social Media’ is.
That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.
That would be fine, if you’d put it in inverted commas.
“Social Media” is a phrase about social media.
Social Media are media that are social.
“Richard Wintle” is a twat (allegedly; English libel laws notwithstanding, E&OE)
splort
Have you noticed that the word ‘social’ has the effect of vitiating the word it qualifies of meaning or significance? Consider:
Social Media
Social Contract
Social Security
Social Justice
Social Text…
Did you spill my pint?
Ian Brooks quoth:
splort
Ah, mission accomplished. 😉
Richard, your pint will always spill if you try to drink it on the bus to the station. Just ask Henry.
And he should know.
Indeed I do. Or did. Possibly. Closed Wednesdays.