I am attending an IT conference in Wales. It is a parallel universe where the Geeks Will Inherit The Earth. Think of a techno-bubble where pen protectors and Christmas Jumpers are a serious and respected badge of office. It’s like that only much, much worse.

There’s a high ratio of Beard to Personality” quotient amply demonstrated by crushingly embarrassing in-jokes and long lost food carbonised in unruly facial hair. There are no women. Well possibly one but I’d not wage any of my own money on the lady in question actually being female.

Apparently at 6PM this evening, I shall be enjoying an optional interview with the snappy title of Rarefied Unified Modelling “ a short history” with the founder and much respected guru of RUM (surely a slight misspelling). I have a strong feeling that in fact I’ll be enjoying a somewhat shorter interview with the bar staff at that time:

Evening, do you serve a good Merlot?”
We do, Sir”

Interview over.

The fact I’ve managed to post anything is in no way a tribute to the Seamless Remote Access” solution offered by the hotel. That has been a trial of strength and frustration from which my laptop barely escaped from with its’ major components intact. Those privileged to work in IT will probably recognise the following phrase:

I DON’T WANT TO DO A F*CKING WINDOWS UPDATE. NEITHER AM I INTERESTED IN YOU TRYING TO BE CLEVER. I JUST WANT TO SEND ONE EMAIL. HOW F*CKING HARD IS IT”
Sorry, Outlook has disconnected your session
SORRY, YOU’LL BE MORE THAN F*CKING SORRY
Low battery warning

They nearly had to call security. I am readying the pidgins.

The content of the conference is actually very interesting. No, really it is. But my fellow IT professionals are way too scary. Dribbling passionately when evangelising on the benefits of Service Orientated Architectures” is “ in my humble view “ right on the cusp of a mental sectioning.

Later this evening, the pleasure of a ˜group hug’ dinner awaits us. This provides the opportunity to network and synergise with our fellow professionals” and (the blurb goes on) It’s time to drive the debate”. Oh Lordy. I shall probably rock up drunk, hide my badge and go and make fun of fat people.

So there may be more later unless I’m carted off to the local cop shop for assault with a phone battery if anyone dares drop low hanging fruit” into a conversation or feels the need to engage me in a conversation relating to his pen protector collection.