I have to admit, I did not really read this article, but I did peruse the first page of comments. Pretty standard fare these days, with the exception that some of this bunch seem to be a little better educated than your average right-wing keyboard-thumper (although in rereading some, I'm considering withdrawing that statement). Don't get me wrong...there are plenty of left-wing idjits out in the netosphere, too. I will say, though that usually the left-wingers seem to attack substance rather than just hurling the standard epithets at "liberals" like: uneducated, ignorant, stupid, mentally ill, etc.; not to mention using the word "liberal" as a pejorative, much like "leper" or "mother-fucker." (And, in looking over the article, I think what it really means is that conservatives just get wasted more...juuust kidding. I think. ) I think it very telling that conservatives malign progressives almost as much as they do liberals. Think about that for a moment.
I suppose, since I don't fall into their particular definition of "conservative," to them I am a "liberal," with all its nasty connotations. I'm not. I'm not conservative, either, nor moderate.
I think about each issue.
Just to give you an example, I have absolutely no problem at all with drug-testing to get welfare or food stamps, thank you very much. I have no problem with my tax dollars going to help someone who really needs it, but if you're getting my hard-earned money, you won't be spending it on drugs, booze, fast cars, big TVs, or fancy cookware...or cigarettes.
That's a pretty conservative notion.
Contrast it with the fact that I have absolutely no problem with gay marriage. In fact, "gay marriage" is a misnomer as far as I'm concerned. If two people love each other and want to join in a legally sanctioned partnership, I could give a rat's patootie about their sexual orientation. A friend of mine (well, she's married to a friend—both of them are so ultra-conservative they make GW look like a 60s flower child) posted something about liking an FB page "...in defense of marriage."
In defense of marriage? Whaaaat?
So, if I understand this correctly, Sam and Tom get married, you're suddenly going to run off and get a divorce or start sleeping with goats? How does two guys or two women marrying each other really hurt you?* Please explain this to me. I can understand if you really and truly feel homosexuality is wrong (which in and of itself is misguided, because we have scientific proof that almost all gays and lesbians are born that way, for one reason or another; their orientation is not a lifestyle, it's who they are). Fine, don't marry someone of your gender. But, just as in the case of abortion, your beliefs are not someone else's problem—or they shouldn't be.
And therein lies the problem. Conservatives think liberals are all pushy for wanting things like clean air and water, pure food supplies, good education, and healthcare. Things that benefit everyone.* Conservatives seem to think it's okay to push their religion off on you, tell you whom to marry, whom to sleep with, what you can do with your body (particularly if you have the bad luck to have been born female...sucks to be you).
To be fair here, I find some of the idiotic things the far left does to be utterly mind-boggling. Carrying the PC bit to extremes, for instance. Like this little jewel. The NYC Board of Education requested that 50 words be taken out of standardized tests. Words like "dinosaur" and "birthday" and "divorce." I'm not making this up. Most of this was based on not wanting to offend certain faiths. Fortunately, someone got a clue-by-four for their birthday, and the request was withdrawn. I can only imagine the original request was drawn up by some left-wing committee somewhere.
Back to the comments—and by the way, this whole thing broke my personal rule of not reading the comments (reading the comments erodes my faith in the human species), but it was like a train wreck—here are two that epitomize some of what I'm talking about (the second bullet is in reply to the first):
I would love to know where they get these facts, although I suspect they got them the same place many of these people do: Faux News. I'd be willing to bet that, yes, many blacks, uneducated or otherwise, vote Democratic. Why? Not because they want hand-outs—necessarily—but because they know the Democratic Party is much more likely to protect their rights. In almost everything I've read uneducated whites tend to vote conservative, largely because they tend to be closer to Christian fundamentalism, I would think. And some people might add racist, as well, but I won't go that far, simply because I don't like to be characterized as being this, that, and the other simply by how I live or vote. And last time I checked, felons lose their right to vote.
So if I'm to believe these paragons of political knowledge, a person, simply by virtue of being liberal, is a lay-about hippie who only votes for people who would give him or her handouts.
Bull. Shit.
The more I read those two comments, the angrier I get. Either because I identify with some liberal tenets, I'm a lazy lay-about or because I DO work hard for a living, I'm a conservative? How neat and simple. Why bother with going to school, when these folks have it all figured out for us? You know, it's quite okay to disagree with me, I'll honor that, but when you think you know me, categorize me, and can vilify me all because I think women should have control of their own bodies, anyone should be able to marry, your religion has no place in my child's school, or that I think you should prove to me you're not spending my money frivolously, then I draw the line. I'm not evil, ignorant, mentally deranged, or lazy simply because of my ideologies (whether I might or might not be otherwise is for another post).
The thing we lack in today's world is respect. And the internet aids and abets the lack of respect. Instead of sitting down and carefully crafting a letter to an author or the editor, any individual with internet access can just fire off what they're thinking at the time, usually proving their lack of knowledge, spelling, and respect. Back when Johnson and Goldwater were running for president—and of course I was a lot younger—I just don't remember the level of nasty that people rise to today. Laughable as it seems to one of my generation, Goldwater, who was about as conservative as you could get in American politics in his day, wouldn't get his foot in the door of the tight-ass right-wingers club of good ol' boys of today.
I respect your right to disagree with me. I might not understand where you're coming from or how you can read things differently, but I'll shrug and agree to disagree. I probably won't have much respect for you if call me stupid (I'm not), uneducated (I most certainly am not), ignorant (I could probably read more, but if you mean I don't listen slavishly to Faux News, ah, well...you might have a point), or mentally ill (I might be, but it has nothing to do with my politics). I won't have any respect for you at all if you tell me my rights are less than yours simply because of my gender.
And I won't have much respect—or patience—if you come on my blog and rant at me. My place. You go rant at your place.
*I have my own theories about conservatives being married to the bottom line being the real reason they don't want gay marriage or controls that cut into the profit margin.
Showing posts with label the intarwebs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the intarwebs. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Friday, July 22, 2011
Cor Blimey, how you do go on.
Okay, my husband sent this cool site to me, http://www.effingpot.com/ which is a glossary of Brit-speak for Americans. He apparently lived in Texas for awhile and used his experiences to write the list. It’s fairly exhaustive, but has some definite errors as well as assumptions that some of these words aren’t used by Americans, and have been for a very long time…since before the invasion of Britcoms, to be honest.
Here’s one that’s incorrect:
Now, I don’t know about the Romany (Gypsy) word nak. But the American slang word Nark or Narc comes from Undercover Narcotics Officer, usually someone who is masquerading as either a high school or college student. They would get friendly with dopers and their suppliers and then “narc” on them, or turn them in. So now to be a narc is to be yes, a stoolie or stool-pigeon: informant.
Here’s another:
I’ve never heard a chamois called “wash leathers” in my life. Maybe in North Carolina or some such place, but it’s a chamois (pronounced shammy). I wonder if he knows you’re supposed to rinse the thing out and then wring it very well before you use it? I’ve never had a problem with them streaking.
Okay, we do not make our entire house out of sheet rock or dry wall…heavens! The house is framed with wood, insulated and then various outside coverings are used, including adobe, hardi-plank, siding, brick, Austin stone.... Only the interior walls have sheet rock on them, and they're still framed inside with 2x4s at the very least. Oy gevalt!
And he seems to think “sofa” is the only word we use for what they call a couch. Well, we use the word couch, a lot, along with sofa and divan. Although divan is not used quite so much anymore. It’s what my grandmother called her sofa. :)
And he seems to have a problem figuring out why we call a restroom a restroom. That one might be a bit tougher, if you aren’t very old. They’re called that because back in the day, restrooms in nicer restaurants, hotels, theaters, and department stores had an outer room with a sofa and very often little sundries like mouthwash or lotion available, and they had an attendant. The attendant was there to watch your purse or briefcase while you went to the loo, and keep the place neat and clean all day long. You often left a tip in a little basket. So they really were places to rest as well as relieve yourself.
There are some under slang that we—at least I and my family—have used forever in the US:
To go on a bender means to basically go on a non-stop drinking spree; blast or blast it all; blinding; Bob’s your uncle; botch; cheeky; cram, for studying hard; dim to mean thick or stupid; and every cowboy called food “grub” in the westerns; haggle; hunky-dory, and in shambles are all examples.
Dunno what kind of dimwit friend he had, but we’ve used this forever. Means the same as “easy as pie,” or a “walk in the park.”
Again, totally US term. Same here:
Now here’s one we use but to us it means 6 of one, half a dozen of the other:
Here’s a few that are definitely ones we’ve used for ages in the US:
I’m beginning to think that perhaps there are some of these that went to England some time ago, since I believe our TV went there before theirs came here, and 30 or 40 years ago entered the lexicon in the UK and he just ran into a great number of idjit Texans.
As for correcting our grammar…Not everyone in England is paragon of grammatical correctness, so stuff it. :)
Here’s one that’s incorrect:
“Nark - If someone is in a nark, it means they are in a bad mood, or being grumpy. It's also the word for a spy or informant.
For example a coppers nark is someone who is a police informant - which you might call a stoolie or stool-pigeon. The origin
is from the Romany word, nak, meaning "nose".”
Now, I don’t know about the Romany (Gypsy) word nak. But the American slang word Nark or Narc comes from Undercover Narcotics Officer, usually someone who is masquerading as either a high school or college student. They would get friendly with dopers and their suppliers and then “narc” on them, or turn them in. So now to be a narc is to be yes, a stoolie or stool-pigeon: informant.
Here’s another:
"Shammy - I think you call these wash leathers. They are the completely useless cloths, originally made from the skin of the
chamois - a wild antelope, the size of a goat. They dry rigid and leave horrible streaks across the windows they are supposed to clean!"
I’ve never heard a chamois called “wash leathers” in my life. Maybe in North Carolina or some such place, but it’s a chamois (pronounced shammy). I wonder if he knows you’re supposed to rinse the thing out and then wring it very well before you use it? I’ve never had a problem with them streaking.
"Plaster board - Sheet rock in Texas. In the UK, plasterboard is used to make ceilings and is also used to make internal walls, it is
then covered in a thin layer of real plaster, except in cheap modern houses. In Texas, entire houses are made from sheet rock, which
is a bit worrying if it is windy or rainy! If the three little pigs had lived in Texas, they would have been eaten! In some states call it's
called "plaster board" like it is here in the UK and others it's called drywall."
Okay, we do not make our entire house out of sheet rock or dry wall…heavens! The house is framed with wood, insulated and then various outside coverings are used, including adobe, hardi-plank, siding, brick, Austin stone.... Only the interior walls have sheet rock on them, and they're still framed inside with 2x4s at the very least. Oy gevalt!
And he seems to think “sofa” is the only word we use for what they call a couch. Well, we use the word couch, a lot, along with sofa and divan. Although divan is not used quite so much anymore. It’s what my grandmother called her sofa. :)
And he seems to have a problem figuring out why we call a restroom a restroom. That one might be a bit tougher, if you aren’t very old. They’re called that because back in the day, restrooms in nicer restaurants, hotels, theaters, and department stores had an outer room with a sofa and very often little sundries like mouthwash or lotion available, and they had an attendant. The attendant was there to watch your purse or briefcase while you went to the loo, and keep the place neat and clean all day long. You often left a tip in a little basket. So they really were places to rest as well as relieve yourself.
There are some under slang that we—at least I and my family—have used forever in the US:
To go on a bender means to basically go on a non-stop drinking spree; blast or blast it all; blinding; Bob’s your uncle; botch; cheeky; cram, for studying hard; dim to mean thick or stupid; and every cowboy called food “grub” in the westerns; haggle; hunky-dory, and in shambles are all examples.
"Piece of cake - I remember saying it's a piece of cake in front of one of my American friends,
who then started looking around for the cake! It means it's a cinch!"
Dunno what kind of dimwit friend he had, but we’ve used this forever. Means the same as “easy as pie,” or a “walk in the park.”
"Piss poor - If something is described as being "piss poor" it means it is an extremely poor attempt at something."
Again, totally US term. Same here:
"Plastered - Another word for loaded. In other words you have had rather too much to drink down your local.
It has nothing to do with being covered with plaster though anything is possible when you are plastered."
"Shitfaced - If you hear someone saying that they got totally shitfaced it means they were out on the town and
got steaming drunk. Normally attributed to stag nights or other silly events."
Now here’s one we use but to us it means 6 of one, half a dozen of the other:
"Sixes and sevens - If something is all at sixes and sevens then it is in a mess, topsy turvy or somewhat haywire!"
Here’s a few that are definitely ones we’ve used for ages in the US:
"Sloshed - Yet another way to describe being drunk. Clearly we need a lot of ways to describe it since
getting plastered is a national pastime."
"Twat - Another word used to insult someone who has upset you. Also means the same as fanny but is less
acceptable in front of your grandmother, as this refers to parts of the female anatomy. Another use for the
same word is to twat something, which would be to hit it hard. Get it right or I'll twat you over the head!"
"Yakking - This means talking incessantly - not that I know anyone who does that now!"
"Zonked - If someone is zonked or "zonked out" it means they are totally knackered or you might say exhausted.
When a baby has drunk so much milk, his eyes roll into the back of his head, it would be fair to say he was zonked!"
I’m beginning to think that perhaps there are some of these that went to England some time ago, since I believe our TV went there before theirs came here, and 30 or 40 years ago entered the lexicon in the UK and he just ran into a great number of idjit Texans.
As for correcting our grammar…Not everyone in England is paragon of grammatical correctness, so stuff it. :)
Friday, June 03, 2011
Changes
It appears my site here has done some morphing on its own while I was otherwise engaged. I've lost my custom header and the font doesn't look right. Hmmph. Are websites related to dust bunnies? Off doing their own thing while you're not watching?
Related to that, I finally got off my arse and straightened my room last night. It is by no means an OCD's dream, but it's much better. Less dust and clutter and the dog has more room at the foot of my bed now. Ben must've thought there was a distressing dearth of cat fur on the bed....I woke up with him curled up on the pillow next to my head.
Related to that, I finally got off my arse and straightened my room last night. It is by no means an OCD's dream, but it's much better. Less dust and clutter and the dog has more room at the foot of my bed now. Ben must've thought there was a distressing dearth of cat fur on the bed....I woke up with him curled up on the pillow next to my head.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
But...all my friends are doing it....
At least one of my friends likes to post a "things I like" list every now and then. She'll post different themes of "ten things." I must admit, I'm not nearly so ambitious, but then Dianne's written four books now (three are published, the fourth is being published), and is writing a fifth, she blogs constantly and writes "other fiction" on a regular basis. To be completely honest, when it comes to writing, she is what I wish I were. Ha! I always have been a dreamer.
But, as they say, I digress.
This is just a general, "here are things found on the intarwebs I love plus" list.
1. I love planners. I never keep them up like I should, but the idea of organizing my life on little lined pages just enthralls me. As I said, I always have been a dreamer.
2. Like Dianne, I love sticky notes; my planners have a plethora of sticky notes in them (which is a problem with digital planners: where the hell do you put the sticky notes??). But I also love paperclips and binder clamps. Once again, I think it's the whole organizational thing....I picture all my papers and to-dos neatly clippered and clamped with nifty clips and I'll be able to look at a stack and presto! I'm saved.
3. I love boxes. Of any kind. Boxes. And more boxes. And even MORE boxes. See above. My family believes I secretly know if I get enough boxes, my problems will all be solved. Heh...yeah...I'll get back with you on tht. (OMG....that search sets my heart to fluttering...BOXES!!) Oh...and these, too.
4. Let's face it, I love office/school/art supplies. Period. Different colored pens, markers, sticky notes, notebooks, paper, blank books, rulers, sketch pads, pastels, brushes, you name it. *sighs*
5. I love this room.
6. I love these bookshelves.
7. I love my new washer and dryer. After all the hassle of getting the washer to work and a part replaced, they work great. (Maytag Centennial series).
8. I love my boss. Not that way. He rocks. He might be a colonel, but he checked his ego at the door. He's still intense, demanding, and a control freak, but once you understand that he's all about the mission, you get it. There are still days when I could cheerfully boot him in his flightsuited arse, but then I can also TELL him when he annoys me. The other colonels I've worked for? Oh, hell no. He's PCSing this summer and I'm gonna miss him.
9. I love April and October. which just happen to be my and my son's birth month (April) and my mother's and three of my best friends' birth months and my anniversary month (October).
10. Kismet. Via Facebook I just found this. I love it. What amazing advice from such a youngster ;).
Now, if you're paying attention (and actually have taken a look at Dianne's lists), you'll notice a big difference. She actually writes about each item, discusses it, tells you why she likes it, irrationally or not. I suppose that's telling. It tells me why she's a writer and I'm not. But it also tells me I can't always tell you why I like something. Or, conversely, why I hate something. (Although I can easily tell you why I hate some of the ignorant stupidity surfacing these days. [Again, I digress.])
But, as they say, I digress.
This is just a general, "here are things found on the intarwebs I love plus" list.
1. I love planners. I never keep them up like I should, but the idea of organizing my life on little lined pages just enthralls me. As I said, I always have been a dreamer.
2. Like Dianne, I love sticky notes; my planners have a plethora of sticky notes in them (which is a problem with digital planners: where the hell do you put the sticky notes??). But I also love paperclips and binder clamps. Once again, I think it's the whole organizational thing....I picture all my papers and to-dos neatly clippered and clamped with nifty clips and I'll be able to look at a stack and presto! I'm saved.
3. I love boxes. Of any kind. Boxes. And more boxes. And even MORE boxes. See above. My family believes I secretly know if I get enough boxes, my problems will all be solved. Heh...yeah...I'll get back with you on tht. (OMG....that search sets my heart to fluttering...BOXES!!) Oh...and these, too.
4. Let's face it, I love office/school/art supplies. Period. Different colored pens, markers, sticky notes, notebooks, paper, blank books, rulers, sketch pads, pastels, brushes, you name it. *sighs*
5. I love this room.
6. I love these bookshelves.
7. I love my new washer and dryer. After all the hassle of getting the washer to work and a part replaced, they work great. (Maytag Centennial series).
8. I love my boss. Not that way. He rocks. He might be a colonel, but he checked his ego at the door. He's still intense, demanding, and a control freak, but once you understand that he's all about the mission, you get it. There are still days when I could cheerfully boot him in his flightsuited arse, but then I can also TELL him when he annoys me. The other colonels I've worked for? Oh, hell no. He's PCSing this summer and I'm gonna miss him.
9. I love April and October. which just happen to be my and my son's birth month (April) and my mother's and three of my best friends' birth months and my anniversary month (October).
10. Kismet. Via Facebook I just found this. I love it. What amazing advice from such a youngster ;).
Now, if you're paying attention (and actually have taken a look at Dianne's lists), you'll notice a big difference. She actually writes about each item, discusses it, tells you why she likes it, irrationally or not. I suppose that's telling. It tells me why she's a writer and I'm not. But it also tells me I can't always tell you why I like something. Or, conversely, why I hate something. (Although I can easily tell you why I hate some of the ignorant stupidity surfacing these days. [Again, I digress.])
Saturday, November 13, 2010
The road to hell...and all that jazz
I can't figure out if I've really been that busy or if I have a mental block against posting...or if there's just so many ideas running around in my ADHD-addled brain that I can't figure out what I want to post on. If I posted on every little idea that staggers along, there'd be a kabillion and one little, disjointed posts. I have a notebook with me, but usually when I'm thinking about such things, I can't write...you know, potty breaks, on the bus, etc. (I can't read, write, crochet, or use the computer in a moving vehicle or I get seasick).
Recently I've had posts in mind about obesity, politics, religion...huh...what else is new...but also my house, products, decorating, sewing, etc, etc. *sighs* I guess if I can't actually DO those things, I can waste time writing about them eh?
In tech news, Microsoft has done some king of weird merge with Instant Messenger (IM) and all your social media. The result...crap. I use my Hotmail account for two things (well, three, if you count IM): Facebook and for those things online where you don't want to put your REAL email account. I don't want it, or FB connecting to everything else I have. It's not that I have anything to hide, per se, but there are elements of my life I'd just really not like terribly public, you know? FB is my public face. I have friends who are co-workers, students in our department, relatives, friends who are not necessarily in my "inner circle," as it were, and I'd rather the two worlds not collide. although a couple of my close family read this site, I'd really like to keep the rest of the fambly blissfully ignorant of it. R says-re work and the 'net--to get ready for the "cloud." WTF-ever the "cloud" is. I neither want nor need my life clouded, thank you very much. There is a sufficient number of people, were they to stumble across this site and read it, who could quite handily figure out who I am. That's fine, I have no problem with that, but I don't want to advertise.
I have an LJ account and I've not posted out there in ages. Every once in a blue moon, I go out and catch up on everyone's posts (I have about 6 or 7 friends there), but haven't felt compelled to post. I've even been half-tempted to delete my FB account recently, after a mutual FB/LJ friend (and a very close personal friend) posted that some of her FB friends should "shut [our] cakeholes" in response to a comment on FB, and a vicious attack by a guy I went to HS with. (Did you know, all you liberals, that we're un-American, stupid, ignorant, uneducated morons? Makes me wonder how the hell I graduated from one of the top universities in this country in a fairly difficult degree, with a high GPA and how I got the job I have, with the military, no less...dang...I'm such an un-American moron. Ppfftt)
The cakehole thing is a perfect example of the anonymity of the internet. While this friend might have gotten testy with me in person for saying something (and trust me, it really wasn't that bad), she never would have gone off on anyone the way she did on the 'net. (To put my feelings in perspective, she said several people had made comments, but as far as I could see, I was the only one.) Perhaps I'm overreacting; it has been known to happen and I will admit the post was not directed at me personally, but I still was hurt.
(For the record, I find the terms "piehole" and "cakehole" to be extremely rude and offensive, so perhaps that added to the overall feeling of hurtness. Dunno. They're just words I never use, kind of like "scumbag," or "douchebag." Just.plain.rude.)
I find, in general, that we say things--well type them--behind the shield of the 'net that we would never, ever in a million years say person to person. Makes me wonder if WWIII will be caused by two or three heads of state going at each other via e-mail some day.
Recently I've had posts in mind about obesity, politics, religion...huh...what else is new...but also my house, products, decorating, sewing, etc, etc. *sighs* I guess if I can't actually DO those things, I can waste time writing about them eh?
In tech news, Microsoft has done some king of weird merge with Instant Messenger (IM) and all your social media. The result...crap. I use my Hotmail account for two things (well, three, if you count IM): Facebook and for those things online where you don't want to put your REAL email account. I don't want it, or FB connecting to everything else I have. It's not that I have anything to hide, per se, but there are elements of my life I'd just really not like terribly public, you know? FB is my public face. I have friends who are co-workers, students in our department, relatives, friends who are not necessarily in my "inner circle," as it were, and I'd rather the two worlds not collide. although a couple of my close family read this site, I'd really like to keep the rest of the fambly blissfully ignorant of it. R says-re work and the 'net--to get ready for the "cloud." WTF-ever the "cloud" is. I neither want nor need my life clouded, thank you very much. There is a sufficient number of people, were they to stumble across this site and read it, who could quite handily figure out who I am. That's fine, I have no problem with that, but I don't want to advertise.
I have an LJ account and I've not posted out there in ages. Every once in a blue moon, I go out and catch up on everyone's posts (I have about 6 or 7 friends there), but haven't felt compelled to post. I've even been half-tempted to delete my FB account recently, after a mutual FB/LJ friend (and a very close personal friend) posted that some of her FB friends should "shut [our] cakeholes" in response to a comment on FB, and a vicious attack by a guy I went to HS with. (Did you know, all you liberals, that we're un-American, stupid, ignorant, uneducated morons? Makes me wonder how the hell I graduated from one of the top universities in this country in a fairly difficult degree, with a high GPA and how I got the job I have, with the military, no less...dang...I'm such an un-American moron. Ppfftt)
The cakehole thing is a perfect example of the anonymity of the internet. While this friend might have gotten testy with me in person for saying something (and trust me, it really wasn't that bad), she never would have gone off on anyone the way she did on the 'net. (To put my feelings in perspective, she said several people had made comments, but as far as I could see, I was the only one.) Perhaps I'm overreacting; it has been known to happen and I will admit the post was not directed at me personally, but I still was hurt.
(For the record, I find the terms "piehole" and "cakehole" to be extremely rude and offensive, so perhaps that added to the overall feeling of hurtness. Dunno. They're just words I never use, kind of like "scumbag," or "douchebag." Just.plain.rude.)
I find, in general, that we say things--well type them--behind the shield of the 'net that we would never, ever in a million years say person to person. Makes me wonder if WWIII will be caused by two or three heads of state going at each other via e-mail some day.
Monday, August 16, 2010
I'm about to state the obvious, so please don't choke on the olive in your martini when you snort at me. There are a kabillion, bazillion, and 93 bloggers out there. The intarwebs is full of the varmints. Some are good, some are precious, some funny, some oh.my.god.I.really.don't.give.a.flying.foo.what.your.son.had.for.breakfast.woman (especially if it's the same damned thing he's had every day for a week). People who merely recount their boring lives (raises hand) are really just journaling online. Like me, I doubt they really expect much of a following.
I could certainly put my blog out there more; give it excerpts for people to google, paste it in comment forms more, add ads to it. But I really don't want to. I've given the URL to a select few and if I get a few readers, cool. I really do doubt I'll have more than a few friends and family reading. And that's fine.
Part of it is that my blog is not really a blog...it's more of a virtual tour of my disjointed mind. A lot of blogs have a theme, or a specific subject. There are totally insane people out there who have a design blog, a gardening blog, a wine blog, a dating blog, AND a personal one.... And they're all perfect, and the author is gorgeous and went to some blue chip school and has perfect kids--or perfect animals and has decided not to spawn. They decorate with a lot of white and use words like smoky texture to describe wine...and/or cheese. Just how does one evaluate smoky texture? Do you smell it with your fingers? Or rub your nose on it? Dunno about you, but that confuses me.
Know what also confuses me? How some people have time to read 90 blogs in a day. Good googly moogly, folks...do you ever do anything? Two of my best friends blog fairly regularly (thank goddess it's not everyday!) and I barely have time to keep up with them. (And I have to admit, I have not followed all of Sylvan's recent posts on 30 books in 30 days..., sorry sweetie). I check FB every couple of days and Live Journal almost every day, but some bloggers have a list as long as my arm of pages they're following. Do they actually read all those? Or did they read a post or two and decide to put them in their blogroll just in case they were stuck up a tree one day and had nothing to do (and happened to have an iPhone or netbook with them)?
Here's an example. This lady is gorgeous and has bought and renovated a dozen houses...and she's only 30. Talk about making an old lady feel like a loser! But you know...by some standards I might not be all that successful, but then I think what I do. I help shape tomorrow's leaders...officers who will be making big decisions one day. I have colonels taking my advice (and even a general or two over the years!). My pay sucks pond water, but what I do is important, and people respect me. I had my time of being a gorgeous 30-something, and while I wish to hell I hadn't let my body go, I'm still a beautiful person. Even when I'm chewing you out. And? I know the difference between a smell/taste and a touch sensation. Really, I do.
I could certainly put my blog out there more; give it excerpts for people to google, paste it in comment forms more, add ads to it. But I really don't want to. I've given the URL to a select few and if I get a few readers, cool. I really do doubt I'll have more than a few friends and family reading. And that's fine.
Part of it is that my blog is not really a blog...it's more of a virtual tour of my disjointed mind. A lot of blogs have a theme, or a specific subject. There are totally insane people out there who have a design blog, a gardening blog, a wine blog, a dating blog, AND a personal one.... And they're all perfect, and the author is gorgeous and went to some blue chip school and has perfect kids--or perfect animals and has decided not to spawn. They decorate with a lot of white and use words like smoky texture to describe wine...and/or cheese. Just how does one evaluate smoky texture? Do you smell it with your fingers? Or rub your nose on it? Dunno about you, but that confuses me.
Know what also confuses me? How some people have time to read 90 blogs in a day. Good googly moogly, folks...do you ever do anything? Two of my best friends blog fairly regularly (thank goddess it's not everyday!) and I barely have time to keep up with them. (And I have to admit, I have not followed all of Sylvan's recent posts on 30 books in 30 days..., sorry sweetie). I check FB every couple of days and Live Journal almost every day, but some bloggers have a list as long as my arm of pages they're following. Do they actually read all those? Or did they read a post or two and decide to put them in their blogroll just in case they were stuck up a tree one day and had nothing to do (and happened to have an iPhone or netbook with them)?
Here's an example. This lady is gorgeous and has bought and renovated a dozen houses...and she's only 30. Talk about making an old lady feel like a loser! But you know...by some standards I might not be all that successful, but then I think what I do. I help shape tomorrow's leaders...officers who will be making big decisions one day. I have colonels taking my advice (and even a general or two over the years!). My pay sucks pond water, but what I do is important, and people respect me. I had my time of being a gorgeous 30-something, and while I wish to hell I hadn't let my body go, I'm still a beautiful person. Even when I'm chewing you out. And? I know the difference between a smell/taste and a touch sensation. Really, I do.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Why web?
It’s a fair question. Why do a web page? Because everyone’s doing it? Because it’s a free, fairly safe way to express your exhibitionism? An outlet for frustrated authors? A venue for your repressed need to teach? Someplace to thrust the kabillion pics of your grubby toddler on the world? All of these?
My friend who helped me connect up WordPress to my StartLogic account (why is everything now XxxxXxxx?) asked me this same question, “Why do you want a webpage?” Well, more correctly, she asked me what I was going to use it for. I had to think about it for a moment. At one time, I was an active costumer in the SCA and wanted to post photos and “this is how I did its” on my site. Maybe force some of my pathetic writing on people. Although, it’s very difficult to force anything on anyone on the web, since you can always navigate away from the page—that solves the grungy toddler pics right there.
This made me start thinking about why the average Joe, or Jo-Anne, puts up a webpage. I think we have something to share. Even if it’s some crackpot notion like the faking of the moon landing or bizarre conspiracy theories. After all, the person posting those sees them as valid and something worth sharing with the rest of the world. I’d like to find some tranylcipromine and share it with them, but that’s for another post.
Some bloggers have huge following and their lives become endlessly fascinating to their fans, so they put up a website. Witness “Dooce.” At one time, Dooce was hilarious. Her rants against motherhood and other institutions were infamous. But then she went commercial, and even worse…she got pregnant. During her pregnancy, she was still funny, but afterwards…it was kind of like after Kathleen Woodiwiss got religion: her novels sucked. Heather's (Dooce) angle has changed (she had a nervous breakdown, too) and I would imagine that for the most part she now has an entirely different fan base. She must have one, since she’s still up and running and has two (count ‘em) books out. And, just be damned if she didn’t drop another spud this month, too. Life is odd.
Why do you web?
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So how does that explain the fact that 90% of under-educated blacks vote Democratic, as do uneducated whites and felons? The people that make this country work and pay the vast majority of taxes and obey the law vote Republican. Go figure.