What Did We Do Before the Internet?

Think about all the things you do on the Internet. All day long.

Then ask yourself this question if you're old enough to remember what life was like before this big, wonderful smorgasbord we call the 'Net: "What did we all do to screw off at work before?"

Oh, that's unfair, you say. I don't screw around at work and surf the 'Net on my employer's time.

Sure you don't.

Of course you do. As a matter of fact, there are studies by such luminaries as the Pew Charitable Trusts that say people don't feel even 1/2 bad anymore about using their employer's high speed connections to pay bills, look up movie times, email their buddies, and surf for information.

So think back about 10 or 12 years, if you were in the workforce then. Those days were amazing, as I remember them. I was programming and writing technical documentation. The 'Net at work was one of those things you looked for. You wanted to find a place that offered 'Net access. That was a cool place to work. There were still organizations that frowned on 'Net access. They thought workers would use access in funny ways or cheat the company or, God forbid, screw off.

Well, it's 2005 headed into 2006. And I can say without a personal shred of doubt that those Thomases of 1993-1995 were exactly right. If you still don't believe me, do a Google search for "wasted time" or "Internet access cutting into productive work time" and see what you get. You're going to be very surprised if you don't think people at work are screwing off with the 'Net.

Why are we doing this? Well, one of those Pew studies says that we do it because the company owes us and because "the man" already asks too much of us. So, screw you right back. I'm surfing the 'Net. Which begs another question: If I'm surfing an hour a day at work on top of the time I'm spending talking with my co-workers (not to mention the smoke breaks I'd be taking if I smoked), and took my 30 minutes to 1 hour (or more) for lunch, I'd be bitchin' too about my 11 hour day away from home that my wonderful wife would be pointing out to me.

What does all this really say? I think it says some pretty scary stuff about us: We're really, really lazy anymore. We're bored at work. We don't like what we do. If I'm at work 10 hours and subtract one hour for lunch (9), and even 20 total minutes of quick conversation with co-workers (way too little but down to 8:40), and then hack out an hour for surfing (7:40), my job's getting shorted. And so is my employer.

If we're sticking it to "the man" by surfing the 'Net at work, I can simply argue this: If you feel overworked, it might be because you're making yourself into a work martyr who's really not. Look, if you can honestly say you're working 9 to 10 or more hours on a work-related project, you can most certainly surf the 'Net to pay your bills. If you can't honestly assess your time on the premises and say you've given that required work day a full go, shut up. And get off the 'Net. And quit talking or bitching with your co-workers. By the way, that hour or so of time you're using to clog up the organization pipe to access the 'Net during the day costs money. The bigger the pipe, the more the cost. And that cuts into the bottom line of your organization. So, if you also complain about how much you get paid while surfing the 'Net an hour a day to download your latest iTunes, shut up and shut down. Get some work done if you expect a raise.

Let me make an analogy here: I just heard Mancow Muller (a relatively well-known DJ out of Chicago with an obnoxious morning show) say we really need to raise the minimum wage in this country, because it's a crime how little it is. Now, that might sound like a really good idea to you. Unfortunately, to raise the minimum wage in this country has ramifications. And one of those ramifications is that the things we all buy will get more expensive to counter the increase in wages each and every business has to pay for their increased minimum wage workers. Hell, even Wal-Mart might have to raise prices. The point? There are no free lunches. If someone gets something, someone else loses something in return.

There. Now do you understand why surfing the 'Net at work really hurts everyone in the long run?

Didn't I ask what we used to do to screw off at work before we all had access?

Take a memo, please.

Sweeney Substitutes Religion for Ego

I haven't written for a while. And for some of you who've written me, that's probably a good thing.

But Mike Sweeney has simply infuriated me. Again.

Mike, as you probably know, is the best player the Kansas City Royals have. He makes $11 million a year. And he's an egotistical hypocrite masquerading as a "Jesus freak", as he points out in a column in the October 25, 2005 Kansas City Star sports section.

Here's Mike's response when his non-Christian teammates call him a "God squader" on the way to Sunday chapel in the Royals clubhouse: "We just say, 'Hey, be there or burn.'" Not to take this out of context, but Mike followed this quote up while on a Christian-based TV station interview by noting that he didn't mean any ill will toward his non-believing teammates.

First off, I've made this clear before: Religion does not belong in the clubhouse or on the field. Mike and any other good religious person should know this. By holding "chapel" on Sunday in the clubhouse Mike is violating the personal space and belief of any other player, be they religious or not. Second, Mike assumes that Christianity is the only religion in the clubhouse by not harboring any "ill will" toward nonbelievers. Mike, did it occur to you that some of the guys might be Jewish or, God forbid, Muslim? Or anything else? Shall they all burn, too? Third, having to immediately say you mean no ill will is the sign of a guilty conscience. Of course you mean ill will, Mike. Otherwise you would never have said that. Ever. That statement is like a couple of skinny frat guys pointing out that their brother Jim is known as Jumbo because he weighs 320 pounds, but that it's simply a nickname. "He made it up himself," they cry when someone points out that Jim is only 5'4", "We're just calling him what he wants to be called."

Okay, back to Mike. Later he went on to discuss how hard it is to be a Christian in baseball. And he goes on to talk about how, in 1999, when things looked bad for him, he told God he'd been "working his butt off for you" but that his baseball career was at a crossroads that looked bleak. So, he decided to not "give a hoot about baseball or ever playing baseball again. I'll go back and sack groceries in California." But you know what? Mike didn't get sent to the minors or get traded or released. He's been to 5 All-Star games. Here's where it gets good: "From that moment on, I played for an audience of one -- Jesus Christ. I remember in spring training that year there could have been 10,000 people in the stands but I could only picture one -- Jesus Christ."

Oops. Mike just stepped into an athlete's ego substitution transferrence bucket. Mike don't play ball for himself and the money. Nope. It's all for Jesus. And he could care less what you think about his play, you baseball fans who basically pay his salary. Thus, don't expect the best on the field from Mike, 'cause Jesus takes care of his game from now on.

Sidebar of an announcer during Mike's 3rd at bat in a July game next year: "And it comes down to this folks. Sweeney at the plate, a count of 1 and 1. Two runners on, the Royals down a run. They need this game to get back in the race...Sweeney steps in. Wait, he steps out again. He signals to the umpire something I don't quite understand and refuses to return to the batter's box. Home plate umpire Tim McClelland signals again. Sweeney seems to be arguing something. And McClelland gives him the heave ho! That's right, folks, Sweeney's out of the game!"

Post-game interview with Mike: "Basically I got tossed because Jesus told me that my teammates on first and second were nonbelievers and that I couldn't get a hit to take the lead because he felt they didn't deserve the glory, Jesus's glory. So I told Tim that, and he told me to get back in the box. I told him what Jesus said again, and he tossed me. Jesus said that was the right thing to do when I got to the water cooler in the dugout. I got some high fives from the believers, too."

It gets better.

"When I was a catcher or when I'm at first base now, if the pitcher is of faith and he's kind of scuffling, I'll go talk to him and say, 'Hey, dude, what are you doing? Rely on the Holy Spirit that lives in you.'" Wow. Let's look at this.

First, Mike's saying that he actively discriminates against those not "of faith". So, if a pitcher who's not "of faith" is "scuffling", Mike's standing at first base condemning them, probably to "burn". And, he's probably wondering what it's going to take to get them converted at that moment. But God forbid (sorry, just had to say that) he'd go over and offer words of encouragement to the non-believing scuffler. Second, Mike's subjugating God in a way I've rarely seen from these hypocrites. He's saying that not only does God care about how the Royals are doing, God cares directly about the individuals on the team that are believers and Christians. But them only.

I've said before Mike Sweeney is a cancer. He is not only a cancer, but a hypocrite. And these are the worst types to have on a team. Mike, as many born again Christians do, has made sure to separate his ability to accept responsibility for failure by putting things into "God's hands". He is also saying that his faith makes it okay for him to directly ignore or condemn those who don't believe as he does, to the point where he singles out believers from nonbelievers.

Trade Mike Sweeney immediately, Mr. Baird. I don't care how many foundations he creates, the charities he gives his money to (which I'm sure are Christian-based only and working hard on converting heathens), or how sweet and kind he is during interviews. His $11 million can be far better spent on building a cohesive team. The cancer is spreading. Let's cut it out.