From my Twitter feed. Started doing some themed posts last month, and I think they are funny. Like that mad guy on the tube that laughs at his own jokes. Anyway, here's the archive so far for those who don't believe in the 140 character micro-blogging universe.
Keep it Scottish: glasgae kiss a cunt.
Keep it Scottish: have a heart attack
Keep it Scottish: Have a bottle of Irn Bru for breakfast.
Keep it Scottish: Have a bottle of Buckie in the toilet cistern for Emergencies.
Keep it Scottish: a full Scottish breakfast with a side of a full Scottish breakfast.
Keep it Scottish: Pretend you know the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne at New Years, and then tutt at anyone who obviously doesn't.
Keep it Scottish: hate English people, even if you like them.
Keep it Scottish: Mock American's on their "Scotch" ancestry whilst being in love with the American States.
Keep it Scottish: Roll your Rs and swear with a vengeance even when you are being nice.
Keep it Scottish: Instead of actually washing your body, just spray some Lynx over the affected zones. (see also: Glasgow Shower)
Keep it Scottish: berate a Ginger person even when you yourself is Ginger.
Keep it Scottish: Deride anyone who spells Whisky with an "e" and then spell Scottish with one "t".
Keep it Scottish: Laugh with Frankie Boyle's jokes about Dundee and then remember that you are finding the joke funny and not his accent.
Keep it Scottish: scoff at people calling Great Britain "England" but mistakenly call Canadians American.
Keep it Scottish: argue that TV coverge of Scottish football is shit and then watch Match of the Day religously.
Keep it Scottish: Wear a kilt to any semi-serious occasion, and then look oddly at the "lesbian" woman wearing troots (tartan trousers).
Keep it Scottish: have two voices, one for your mates and the pub, another for telephone calls, but don't change the parlance.
Keep it Scottish: Laugh when someone mentions a deep fried Mars Bar but secretly wish you had a deep fat fryer to try deep fat Twixes.
Keep it Scottish: Tentatively ask for Irn Bru in English restaurants and then complain when you are forced to choose Pepsi or Coca Cola.
Keep it Scottish: Say aye instead of yes, say awright instead of hello, but laugh when someone says Edinburg instead of Edinbur-ah.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
New Skin
People who know me in real life know that I am quite vain. I mean, I like to look good, sometimes I’ll be caught checking out my face in the mirror, and probably I worry far too much about what tie goes with what shirt, shoes and belt. And the funny thing about this is that I am actually totally not that vain at all. I would happily strip off in front of anyone if they asked me nicely enough, and there was a warm cup of tea involved, because to be honest, I know I’m not perfectly formed and also, it doesn’t take much imagination to think of anyone naked.
I would show you my form and because being a grown up and having seen naked people in real life a couple of times I can imagine what anyone would look like naked. It’s a kind of intimacy that, to be honest, isn’t that exciting – the naked form is more functional than arousing. For example, does a doctor get sexual excited every time you strip in front of them? Most likely not, as it’s part of their job. It’s also more likely that to be perfectly honest they don’t care what you look like, and that’s my attitude. I quite like the way I look, and I know that I might not be fat, but I’m far from a temple. I’d say my body is less a temple, more a night club.
So I read with incredulity of the new airport scanners that will be able to see you “naked”. But I can see you naked right now. I can think of what you body will look like naked. Right now. And there is nothing you can do stop me. The “naked” scanners actually might be your real body, but do they look like their actual body? No, my imagination is better at that, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.
Is vanity wanting to look good? Or is vanity being self-important? I like to look good in clothes, and I don’t think that makes me vain. Plus when I look this good, how can you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror?
Zaphod Beeblebrox: “If there's anything more important than my ego around here, I want it caught and shot now.”
I would show you my form and because being a grown up and having seen naked people in real life a couple of times I can imagine what anyone would look like naked. It’s a kind of intimacy that, to be honest, isn’t that exciting – the naked form is more functional than arousing. For example, does a doctor get sexual excited every time you strip in front of them? Most likely not, as it’s part of their job. It’s also more likely that to be perfectly honest they don’t care what you look like, and that’s my attitude. I quite like the way I look, and I know that I might not be fat, but I’m far from a temple. I’d say my body is less a temple, more a night club.
So I read with incredulity of the new airport scanners that will be able to see you “naked”. But I can see you naked right now. I can think of what you body will look like naked. Right now. And there is nothing you can do stop me. The “naked” scanners actually might be your real body, but do they look like their actual body? No, my imagination is better at that, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.
Is vanity wanting to look good? Or is vanity being self-important? I like to look good in clothes, and I don’t think that makes me vain. Plus when I look this good, how can you avoid looking at yourself in the mirror?
Zaphod Beeblebrox: “If there's anything more important than my ego around here, I want it caught and shot now.”
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Woozy With Cider
My current favourite song, by James Yorkston.
I Watch the park quieten from the hotel window, I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds,
For a city whose size had scared me for years right now it's a feeble evening row, not un-similar to a beach evening ending
On the table to my left there's a magazine with a picture of dead monkey, making a mockery of what I'd call art
But what would I know about the scene in the city that has swallowed up friends lovers and family,
Just give me a village the size of a teacup
You're happier here spread out with your eyes closed,
I feel I should order a drink in celebration to welcome the summer, whose first day is ending
Should you wake you'd catch me of course and ask me the wisdom of drinking once more
I cast me mind back to yesterdays wedding where we got drunk and fell over
I did my best to be polite to a family I'd never met, but on numerous occasions, I guess, I could have tried harder
Of course by the end of the night I was a best friend with everyone and every ones wife but right now I couldn't remember their names no matter how hard ii try
As the sun glares through the hotel window I wonder of our future and where it will lead to,
I wonder if you'll be laying there 10 years 20 years 30 years down the line
I'll still be staring out at the street confused about love and life,
It'll be interesting to see if anyone every bought those songs of mine if anyone heard those words that I never got quite right,
I think I can be honest in presuming the world is not exactly going to be leaping out its bed to make me rich using my songs in adverts selling oranges or lemons,
Who knows I may end up owning the whole street, or more likely sleeping under tree in the park opposite
Would the runners keep me awake or would I keep them asleep
I'd hope I have the sense to move back home, as lovely as today is, I‘d imagine the winter would be rather cold
I'd been told for years that the devil had the best tunes and that the devil lived down here whereas us country folk weren't worth the salt from the road
Ex pat magazine editors who choose to loose their temper on the easily persuaded northern town dwellers
And sure enough 99 percent of the people I meet have scant regard for entertaining me, it seems I'm too old, too slow, too quiet and just wrong
And I'm glad. In their cocaine fuelled electronic cabarets, I'll be the man at the bar, drinking overpriced whiskey from a bar maid who's to good to catch my eye
She only works here two nights a week; the rest of the time she's a singer on a rock and roll band
I bet she'd change her tune if I told her my album had peaked at number 172 and that I also had friends who worked in bars and that didn't define who they are
Though it certainly helps their capacity to drink.
But I've strayed off the subject
Now I'll be leaning over and waking you up, and you'll squint at me through the cracks between your eyelids, woozy with cider
As if you're asking exactly where we are and exactly what I wanted.
And I'll be happy because we won't be taking anything too seriously.
I Watch the park quieten from the hotel window, I hear you softly sleep amongst the cars and saluting songbirds,
For a city whose size had scared me for years right now it's a feeble evening row, not un-similar to a beach evening ending
On the table to my left there's a magazine with a picture of dead monkey, making a mockery of what I'd call art
But what would I know about the scene in the city that has swallowed up friends lovers and family,
Just give me a village the size of a teacup
You're happier here spread out with your eyes closed,
I feel I should order a drink in celebration to welcome the summer, whose first day is ending
Should you wake you'd catch me of course and ask me the wisdom of drinking once more
I cast me mind back to yesterdays wedding where we got drunk and fell over
I did my best to be polite to a family I'd never met, but on numerous occasions, I guess, I could have tried harder
Of course by the end of the night I was a best friend with everyone and every ones wife but right now I couldn't remember their names no matter how hard ii try
As the sun glares through the hotel window I wonder of our future and where it will lead to,
I wonder if you'll be laying there 10 years 20 years 30 years down the line
I'll still be staring out at the street confused about love and life,
It'll be interesting to see if anyone every bought those songs of mine if anyone heard those words that I never got quite right,
I think I can be honest in presuming the world is not exactly going to be leaping out its bed to make me rich using my songs in adverts selling oranges or lemons,
Who knows I may end up owning the whole street, or more likely sleeping under tree in the park opposite
Would the runners keep me awake or would I keep them asleep
I'd hope I have the sense to move back home, as lovely as today is, I‘d imagine the winter would be rather cold
I'd been told for years that the devil had the best tunes and that the devil lived down here whereas us country folk weren't worth the salt from the road
Ex pat magazine editors who choose to loose their temper on the easily persuaded northern town dwellers
And sure enough 99 percent of the people I meet have scant regard for entertaining me, it seems I'm too old, too slow, too quiet and just wrong
And I'm glad. In their cocaine fuelled electronic cabarets, I'll be the man at the bar, drinking overpriced whiskey from a bar maid who's to good to catch my eye
She only works here two nights a week; the rest of the time she's a singer on a rock and roll band
I bet she'd change her tune if I told her my album had peaked at number 172 and that I also had friends who worked in bars and that didn't define who they are
Though it certainly helps their capacity to drink.
But I've strayed off the subject
Now I'll be leaning over and waking you up, and you'll squint at me through the cracks between your eyelids, woozy with cider
As if you're asking exactly where we are and exactly what I wanted.
And I'll be happy because we won't be taking anything too seriously.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Nintendo Wii
Never before have I lost interest in an expensive piece of technology so quickly. It’s pretty crap isn’t it. Not that I think it’s actually bad, because Super Mario Galaxy is pretty much one of the greatest games I have ever played, but since then… I haven’t even considered buying another game for it. I mean, the last game I bought for it was Pro Evolution Soccer 2008 and it was terrible. The graphics were awful, the control scheme was mental and the game just wasn't any fun. It lacked anything that made me want to keep playing it.
Not even Sonic games that before I’d have religiously bought (and, to this day, I haved owned, in order, Sonic, Sonic 2, Sonic 3, Sonic and Knuckles, Sonic Adventure, Sonic Adventure 2, Sonic 2006 and Sonic Unleashed). Some of these games are good… but others are shit. The most recent two are steamingly shit. There are several games that, maybe, I’d have been interested in but for one important factor.
I have an Xbox. My Xbox plays my DVDs, my music over the Wifi, is online, connected to my mates, can stream movies onto it, the graphics are brilliant and the gmaeplay only involves me sitting and playing. I don’t want to wave my controller about like a fudd when I can just silently sit and enjoy it like I would a movie.
And then there’s the problem of playing with people. My Xbox came with two controllers and with Steve’s we have three. Complimented by Shayan, Jonny, Colin, and numerous other people having an Xbox, I have loads of people to play with – the Wii has no one. Other people stayed clear. I should have. I lent it out to two people over the last year and, to be honest, it might as well have stayed with them. I don’t play it. The only two games I would play on it would genuinely be better on the Xbox and have no reason for me to go back and play it.
For example, compare it to my Xbox. I have loads of games for that console that I routinely rotate in and out. I’m playing through Half Life 2 again, about to complete the final chapter (bloody striders) and then I’ll play through episode 1 and 2. I have Left 4 Dead, FIFA, Mass Effect, Halo even, all on rotation.
What I am saying is this: I am a gamer. I’ve been playing games for a while. More than 15 years I have held in my mitts those controllers that the Wii got rid of. The games are just not good enough and the graphics (it’s a shame to say it) are shit. The thing is for kids, and the Xbox is for grown-ups... or kids that have grown-up, pretending to grow-up, like me. It’s time Nintendo released the Wii HD, or I sold mine. Or gave it away. For those who don’t play games it is probably a good change, but for me it’s not compelling enough. And I like the DS.
Not even Sonic games that before I’d have religiously bought (and, to this day, I haved owned, in order, Sonic, Sonic 2, Sonic 3, Sonic and Knuckles, Sonic Adventure, Sonic Adventure 2, Sonic 2006 and Sonic Unleashed). Some of these games are good… but others are shit. The most recent two are steamingly shit. There are several games that, maybe, I’d have been interested in but for one important factor.
I have an Xbox. My Xbox plays my DVDs, my music over the Wifi, is online, connected to my mates, can stream movies onto it, the graphics are brilliant and the gmaeplay only involves me sitting and playing. I don’t want to wave my controller about like a fudd when I can just silently sit and enjoy it like I would a movie.
And then there’s the problem of playing with people. My Xbox came with two controllers and with Steve’s we have three. Complimented by Shayan, Jonny, Colin, and numerous other people having an Xbox, I have loads of people to play with – the Wii has no one. Other people stayed clear. I should have. I lent it out to two people over the last year and, to be honest, it might as well have stayed with them. I don’t play it. The only two games I would play on it would genuinely be better on the Xbox and have no reason for me to go back and play it.
For example, compare it to my Xbox. I have loads of games for that console that I routinely rotate in and out. I’m playing through Half Life 2 again, about to complete the final chapter (bloody striders) and then I’ll play through episode 1 and 2. I have Left 4 Dead, FIFA, Mass Effect, Halo even, all on rotation.
What I am saying is this: I am a gamer. I’ve been playing games for a while. More than 15 years I have held in my mitts those controllers that the Wii got rid of. The games are just not good enough and the graphics (it’s a shame to say it) are shit. The thing is for kids, and the Xbox is for grown-ups... or kids that have grown-up, pretending to grow-up, like me. It’s time Nintendo released the Wii HD, or I sold mine. Or gave it away. For those who don’t play games it is probably a good change, but for me it’s not compelling enough. And I like the DS.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Some Short Notes on TV Show I Like, 1
30 Rock.
What’s it about? – The show is set in the NBC headquarters in the Rockefeller Center, or the GE Building as it is really called, in New York City. 30 Rock is the name given to the NBC Studios there and from 30 Rock producers Liz Lemon and Pete Hornberger work tirelessly to create The Girl Show, a Saturday Night Live! on a Friday show within the show. Along comes Jack Donaghy as the new head of East Coast and Microwave Programming and makes the show TGS with Tracy Jordan, a crazy and stupid black comedian. Hilarity ensues.
Why do I like it? – The quick humour and the sharp lines make the show worth watching, and the little quirks, like Kenneth the Paige, or Frank the writer, add up to the funniest ensemble cast this side of Arrested Development. In something that I love the show is wickedly self referential, constantly putting in 4th wall breaking jokes about scheduling, real cameos from Conan O’Brien and Jerry Seinfield, as well as great real turns from Steve Buscemi and Jennifer Aniston.
What do I love about it? – Liz Lemon played by Tina Fey <3
FlashForward
What’s it about? – The show is set in the present. For 137 seconds everyone on the planet blacked out and remembered what they would be doing in 6 months time. It was the real future, and FBI agents are trying to figure out who or what caused everyone in the world to black out at the same moment… when they realise that not everyone blacked out and the search begins for “Suspect Zero”.
Why do I like it? – Big sci-fi thought series are my favourite. I loved the premise of Jericho and The 4400 but they both turned out to be shit. In better news, this is like the first season of Lost, before it became bloated and ludrcuosu to the point of wanting to put my fist through a screenwriters face. It still feels like they know where they are going, with the possible exception of the Kangaroo in downtown LA…
What do I love about it? – Two episodes and two dramatic cliffhangers. Also, Jack Davenport.
True Blood
What’s it about? – Set in the present it portrays a world where Vampires, who have always existed, have finally made their existence known after the invention of synthetic blood, meaning they no longer need to feast upon humans. Now, in a world where people are intruged, scared and romanticised by the vampires, we follow Sookie, who can read minds, as she falls in love with Bill, a vampire who is new to her town.
Why do I like it? – It’s a cool idea. The grown up version to the silly girly Twilight series, this features swearing, blood, guts, gore and sex – a fuck load of sex. Like all HBO series, it doesn’t hold back, showing why mortal people want to have sex with vampires, and the fesishisms of wanting to be bitten by a vampire: Fangbangers. It’s also quite trashy, in the same way I like Gossip Girl trashy.
Why do I love it? – “…features swearing, blood, guts, gore and sex – a fuck load of sex…” and Ann Paquin, who is illegally pretty. Oh, and the whole… “sci-fi thought series” thing too. It’s how I’d imagine a Preacher series should be done. And will be done, god damn it.
What’s it about? – The show is set in the NBC headquarters in the Rockefeller Center, or the GE Building as it is really called, in New York City. 30 Rock is the name given to the NBC Studios there and from 30 Rock producers Liz Lemon and Pete Hornberger work tirelessly to create The Girl Show, a Saturday Night Live! on a Friday show within the show. Along comes Jack Donaghy as the new head of East Coast and Microwave Programming and makes the show TGS with Tracy Jordan, a crazy and stupid black comedian. Hilarity ensues.
Why do I like it? – The quick humour and the sharp lines make the show worth watching, and the little quirks, like Kenneth the Paige, or Frank the writer, add up to the funniest ensemble cast this side of Arrested Development. In something that I love the show is wickedly self referential, constantly putting in 4th wall breaking jokes about scheduling, real cameos from Conan O’Brien and Jerry Seinfield, as well as great real turns from Steve Buscemi and Jennifer Aniston.
What do I love about it? – Liz Lemon played by Tina Fey <3
FlashForward
What’s it about? – The show is set in the present. For 137 seconds everyone on the planet blacked out and remembered what they would be doing in 6 months time. It was the real future, and FBI agents are trying to figure out who or what caused everyone in the world to black out at the same moment… when they realise that not everyone blacked out and the search begins for “Suspect Zero”.
Why do I like it? – Big sci-fi thought series are my favourite. I loved the premise of Jericho and The 4400 but they both turned out to be shit. In better news, this is like the first season of Lost, before it became bloated and ludrcuosu to the point of wanting to put my fist through a screenwriters face. It still feels like they know where they are going, with the possible exception of the Kangaroo in downtown LA…
What do I love about it? – Two episodes and two dramatic cliffhangers. Also, Jack Davenport.
True Blood
What’s it about? – Set in the present it portrays a world where Vampires, who have always existed, have finally made their existence known after the invention of synthetic blood, meaning they no longer need to feast upon humans. Now, in a world where people are intruged, scared and romanticised by the vampires, we follow Sookie, who can read minds, as she falls in love with Bill, a vampire who is new to her town.
Why do I like it? – It’s a cool idea. The grown up version to the silly girly Twilight series, this features swearing, blood, guts, gore and sex – a fuck load of sex. Like all HBO series, it doesn’t hold back, showing why mortal people want to have sex with vampires, and the fesishisms of wanting to be bitten by a vampire: Fangbangers. It’s also quite trashy, in the same way I like Gossip Girl trashy.
Why do I love it? – “…features swearing, blood, guts, gore and sex – a fuck load of sex…” and Ann Paquin, who is illegally pretty. Oh, and the whole… “sci-fi thought series” thing too. It’s how I’d imagine a Preacher series should be done. And will be done, god damn it.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Love Steals Us From Loneliness
Every step takes a beat of your heart
Through a city that's falling apart
On a night that rises and clears
In a sky that's clouded by years
My anger is a form of madness
And so I'd rather have hope than sadness
And you said something
You said something stupid like
Love steals us from loneliness.
by Idlewild, from Warnings and Promises.
Through a city that's falling apart
On a night that rises and clears
In a sky that's clouded by years
My anger is a form of madness
And so I'd rather have hope than sadness
And you said something
You said something stupid like
Love steals us from loneliness.
by Idlewild, from Warnings and Promises.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Mark
I have already talked at length about my name. It’s not unique, as already discussed, and it’s also, quite interestingly, able to be considered a bit of a treat – both of my names are nouns and verbs. It is the most geeky thing I can do, except for maybe typing 5073145 into a calculator and turning it upside down. Yeah, go on try it. Yep, that’s my name. Anyway…
I heard recently the comedian Mark Watson making the joke that whenever he hears a crow caw he thinks someone is calling for him. I was wetting myself, and whilst a few other people found the joke marginally funny it hit home because I’ve always thought that. The caw is so sharp, short and sythe-like it always reminded me of someone shouting my name really aggressively.
Anyway, even more recently I went to see a film about lying staring Ricky Gervais. Laugh out loud it kind of was, not the greatest movie ever, but for one thing – the main man, Mr Gervais, was called Mark. Aside from the… other implications of the character being called Mark, the hilarity was something not exceptional because of the recent saturation of my name.
See, I know no other Marks that work directly with me. Offshore, there was another Mark at my muster point which caused some kerfuffle, but directly in my department, there is only one other and he works in Glasgow. I am, unusually, with a slightly common name, alone. But on TV, that is a sudden shift towards it.
In recent times, like in FlashForward, my new TV show du jour, the main man is called Mark, and in Peep Show, the funniest thing on television after The X Factor, the other main man is called Mark. I like to think of myself as closer to the alcoholic FBI agent played by Joseph Fiennes, rather than the looser geek that pervs on pretty but equally geeky girls without no chance getting with them.
And I am sure you’d agree.
I heard recently the comedian Mark Watson making the joke that whenever he hears a crow caw he thinks someone is calling for him. I was wetting myself, and whilst a few other people found the joke marginally funny it hit home because I’ve always thought that. The caw is so sharp, short and sythe-like it always reminded me of someone shouting my name really aggressively.
Anyway, even more recently I went to see a film about lying staring Ricky Gervais. Laugh out loud it kind of was, not the greatest movie ever, but for one thing – the main man, Mr Gervais, was called Mark. Aside from the… other implications of the character being called Mark, the hilarity was something not exceptional because of the recent saturation of my name.
See, I know no other Marks that work directly with me. Offshore, there was another Mark at my muster point which caused some kerfuffle, but directly in my department, there is only one other and he works in Glasgow. I am, unusually, with a slightly common name, alone. But on TV, that is a sudden shift towards it.
In recent times, like in FlashForward, my new TV show du jour, the main man is called Mark, and in Peep Show, the funniest thing on television after The X Factor, the other main man is called Mark. I like to think of myself as closer to the alcoholic FBI agent played by Joseph Fiennes, rather than the looser geek that pervs on pretty but equally geeky girls without no chance getting with them.
And I am sure you’d agree.
Friday, October 09, 2009
When People Just Don’t Know
Whilst working in this industry, and I assume any industry, there are people who know what they are talking about, and those that don’t. Then these two categories are split into two further groups; those that can talk a good game, and those who cannot. Those who know their stuff but can’t articulate it are unfortunate, and those who don’t know their stuff and can’t bullshit it are in for a rough time. Those who do know it and can talk about it at length, and the ones who don’t know anything but can blag their way through, have the yellow brick road to follow to manager level. I’ll let you decide which side I am on, but be nice.
I was in a training course yesterday where upon I was introduced to people who are in a position of seniority, but have no grasp of the scale or magnitude of what this company does and what I do within it. They first of all called everyone in the room Engineers. Now, as any engineer will tell you, calling someone an engineer does not an engineer make. I am a Chemical, or Process Engineer. I design things, I engineer them. Mechanical too, they design things. Electrical, Instrumental and Structural all design things too, these disciplines are engineers. Using this terminology, even software engineers are real engineers… even when in real life the things they design are not even real. They’ve still designed them.
But a Project Engineer? No. Nope. They don’t design anything. Normally a project engineer is someone who was an engineer but didn’t want to keep engineering things. This means that they should not be an engineer. Just because they’ve got the BEng (Hons) they don’t get to be called a discipline engineer for a discipline that does not engineering.
The guy that fixes your boiler isn’t an engineer. The guy that fixes you car isn’t an engineer. The man who tarmacs the roads is not an engineer.
This was hammered home when the aforementioned project engineers continually made severe errors in judgement, like:
- a gas field that has 10’000 barrels of oil.
- A £3 million valve
- “20 yards” in a room where there is barely 15 yards from wall to wall
Also, 10’000 barrels of oil in a well? I know that we are desperate, but even Beatrice Alpha and the Jacky wellhead platform produce 12’000 a day. And that’s a piddling amount. Captain, Ninian, even Forties all produce around 50’000 a day, and that is a lot less than it used to be. Forties field, on a good day, would do 650’000 a day, and at the most Alba North was pushing at 120’000 a day.
I was in a training course yesterday where upon I was introduced to people who are in a position of seniority, but have no grasp of the scale or magnitude of what this company does and what I do within it. They first of all called everyone in the room Engineers. Now, as any engineer will tell you, calling someone an engineer does not an engineer make. I am a Chemical, or Process Engineer. I design things, I engineer them. Mechanical too, they design things. Electrical, Instrumental and Structural all design things too, these disciplines are engineers. Using this terminology, even software engineers are real engineers… even when in real life the things they design are not even real. They’ve still designed them.
But a Project Engineer? No. Nope. They don’t design anything. Normally a project engineer is someone who was an engineer but didn’t want to keep engineering things. This means that they should not be an engineer. Just because they’ve got the BEng (Hons) they don’t get to be called a discipline engineer for a discipline that does not engineering.
The guy that fixes your boiler isn’t an engineer. The guy that fixes you car isn’t an engineer. The man who tarmacs the roads is not an engineer.
This was hammered home when the aforementioned project engineers continually made severe errors in judgement, like:
- a gas field that has 10’000 barrels of oil.
- A £3 million valve
- “20 yards” in a room where there is barely 15 yards from wall to wall
Also, 10’000 barrels of oil in a well? I know that we are desperate, but even Beatrice Alpha and the Jacky wellhead platform produce 12’000 a day. And that’s a piddling amount. Captain, Ninian, even Forties all produce around 50’000 a day, and that is a lot less than it used to be. Forties field, on a good day, would do 650’000 a day, and at the most Alba North was pushing at 120’000 a day.
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