Jules Jones

 For the mill has shut down and it's never coming back.

That's the second time I've seen a former employer fall to the dynamite. It takes time to demolish a mill safely; months, even years. But the destruction started long ago, with investment choices and other choices; some of those choices made by a government hell bent on shovelling as much money to its chums as possible, and if that means bringing down an industry so you can push large government grants for regeneration of a derelict industrial site to your party donors rather than grants to keep the mill afloat through the lean times, well, that's just business, isn't it?

Forgive me if I'm cynical if the promised regeneration ever happens. This is, after all, the government that gave millions to a ferry company with no ferries. There was once a Tory party with a one nation philosophy, an enlightened self-interest that believed that the rich had a duty to the poor, to provide a safety net and make sure nobody fell through it. That too has gone and is never coming back.

Conversation this morning at the office turned to computer games for some reason. Skyrim was mentioned. The person who currently sits at the next desk to me is also fannish, and into slash. The conversation then took a turn which went something like this:

$F_C to /me: A lot of my friends play it, and every time I see their status updates reading "Skyrimming", I giggle.

/me to $F_C: [stare], [snigger]

$F_C to /me: I know, it's childish, but I just can't help it.

/me to $F_C: You're right, it's childish. But it's funny.

[smirk at each other]

[pause]

/me to $F_C: oh no, I have a plot bunny

$F_C, muttered: Thank you for that mental image

[both laugh]

[we manage to get the laughter down to the occasional giggle, and turn back to our computers]

[longer pause]

/me to $F_C: there are several mythologies with sky gods or goddesses

$F_C *looks* at me, and starts laughing again

/me to $F_C: "I did not need that visit from Mr Mental Image Fairy?"

$FANNISH_COLLEAGUE nearly falls off her chair she is laughing so hard, turns pink with breathlessness, looks at me again and we both collapse laughing, whereupon she drags herself out of her chair and goes off to the break room to calm down.

The third member of the conversation about computer games, the bloke on the desk across from ours, has heard bits of this but not seen most of the non-verbal communication on account of our monitors being between his side of the desk bank and ours. He does in fact have nearly as filthy a mind as we do, and is aware that he has missed out on some dirty joke.

$BLOKE_COLLEAGUE: What are you two on about?

/me: You don't want to know.

$B_C: Yes I do.

/me: No. Really, you don't.

I suppose it's a good thing that it didn't occur to me until I was standing in the bus queue this evening that "skyrimming" has the same number of syllables as "Star Trekking", and thus creates a handy microfilk, like so:

#Skyrimming, across the universe
#boldly going forward 'cause we still can't find reverse


Skyrim. A productivity impairment product in more ways than one.