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More biometrics
Sep. 7th, 2008 08:53 pmThe latest in the line of interviews for my residence process was yesterday, and even though it was one of the most pointless-seeming yet, I don't actually have a whole lot to say about it because it was also one of the most painless.
I was told in the appointment letter that recording equipment wasn't allowed in the Application Support Center (which still sounds like a name Microsoft would have come up with), and so left my phone behind and had a large amount of hesitation in even bringing a music player - but in the end they didn't even check me for them when I got there. In fact, the whole thing was a lot more friendly than I've ever experienced before - something no doubt helped by the way that the place was almost completely deserted, so it didn't feel like I was part of a process as much as before - they even let me through half an hour earlier than my appointment time, which is pretty much unheard of.
The process was exactly the same as the one that I'd gone through in California a couple of years ago - it involved filling out a form about my personal details and physical features, then being let through to the area where complete rolls of prints of my fingers were taken along with my photograph (which looked rather a lot better this time than on any other occasions). The Japanese technician chose to disagree with me on my hair colour, but the whole process was very smooth and easy - I was even assured that they didn't need my social security number if I was at all unsure of it (I completely blanked on it under pressure) and could easily just get it with my application number. As well they should, I imagine, given just how many times they've been sent all this information already.
So that was all that happened - on the way back I even got an unusually nice doughnut from the Dunkin Donuts outside the station.
On the train, Damn the Machine happened to come on my iPod. The level of appropriateness of the general sentiment of it was not lost on me, but halfway through it I had an astounding private revelation that it was actually about Harlan Ellison's I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - the lyrics make it very blatant, using several identical phrases to the short story, and I was completely oblivious to it until that moment. (By the way, don't click on that link if you want to have any hope of being in a good mood for the next two weeks. The same goes for trying to get residence in America, but for the next two years instead.)
I was told in the appointment letter that recording equipment wasn't allowed in the Application Support Center (which still sounds like a name Microsoft would have come up with), and so left my phone behind and had a large amount of hesitation in even bringing a music player - but in the end they didn't even check me for them when I got there. In fact, the whole thing was a lot more friendly than I've ever experienced before - something no doubt helped by the way that the place was almost completely deserted, so it didn't feel like I was part of a process as much as before - they even let me through half an hour earlier than my appointment time, which is pretty much unheard of.
The process was exactly the same as the one that I'd gone through in California a couple of years ago - it involved filling out a form about my personal details and physical features, then being let through to the area where complete rolls of prints of my fingers were taken along with my photograph (which looked rather a lot better this time than on any other occasions). The Japanese technician chose to disagree with me on my hair colour, but the whole process was very smooth and easy - I was even assured that they didn't need my social security number if I was at all unsure of it (I completely blanked on it under pressure) and could easily just get it with my application number. As well they should, I imagine, given just how many times they've been sent all this information already.
So that was all that happened - on the way back I even got an unusually nice doughnut from the Dunkin Donuts outside the station.
On the train, Damn the Machine happened to come on my iPod. The level of appropriateness of the general sentiment of it was not lost on me, but halfway through it I had an astounding private revelation that it was actually about Harlan Ellison's I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - the lyrics make it very blatant, using several identical phrases to the short story, and I was completely oblivious to it until that moment. (By the way, don't click on that link if you want to have any hope of being in a good mood for the next two weeks. The same goes for trying to get residence in America, but for the next two years instead.)
