John Edwards at MySpace
Dave, Jude and John
Dave and John admire Jude's scarf.
Showing posts with label MySpace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MySpace. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Friday, July 28, 2006
How to Cause the World to NOT End
It's a whole new world...
It's an entirely diffident point of view.
In the very very secret and very unique and interesting "World Maintenence Manual", there are a number of things that Juan may do in order to prevent the world from ending, which is considered, by some, to be mauvaise foi and entirely unfun. I disagree, but not with that.
Included in the list:
So you see, it is not too late. You don't have to give up and lose everything just because a moron from Texas is so power-crazed that he wants to bring it all down with him. Let HIM go down instead, then laugh at him derisively for having such evil and adolescent notions. Send in the clowns, and lock up the serial killing mass murderers.
Future and Fun begin with "f. u..."
So tell your president "F. U." next time you see him.
This will cause the world to not end.
(Cross-posted on The American Street)
It's an entirely diffident point of view.
In the very very secret and very unique and interesting "World Maintenence Manual", there are a number of things that Juan may do in order to prevent the world from ending, which is considered, by some, to be mauvaise foi and entirely unfun. I disagree, but not with that.
Included in the list:
- Make war, itself, a crime. Arrest and incarcerate all those who participate.
- Truth in advertising. Call "War" by its real names: "Mass Murder" and "Serial Killing", and consider all those involved mass murderers and serial killers.
As Chaplin noted, "numbers sanctify". Not good. If one man kills, he is a murderer, but if a thousand kill, they are heroes. Desanctify number. Truth in advertising.
- When you find a leader who consistently makes the wrong decision (like George W. Bush)...use him! Ask him his view on the problem, and then do THE OPPOSITE of what he says. If, for example, he says "no ceasefire", know that the correct answer is "yes ceasefire". Most smart people know this already, but just look at the buffoons who still "stay the course" with every daft dictum of the dafter dictator, ever-dialed into Dick the Dastard: Dark Deity.
- Realize that the Foolwells of the world are literally banking on Armageddon. Deny them their Satanic visions. Create a a long, flexible tube wide enough for, say, Rush Limbaugh or Jerry Foolwell, and then put one end in the vacuum of Space: the final frontier. Then simply suck these Foolwells out into space. It may be the only sucking they've received in their ugly waste of a life. Very good for world maintenence, since these thumping egos are but shills for those who profit from the earth's rapine and destruction. What we call tree fuckers. See also: Exxon/Mobil, Halliburton
- Empower all the world's women. Men have devolved to the point where their mass-murdering wiles freely include women and children. No woman would stand for this. Women have to carpe the diem... and millennium.
- Elect wise leaders with a record of world maintenence, like Al Gore, John Edwards, Robert Redford, Constance Rice or The Yogurthead Man. Sex-changes are easy these days, even fun! (I've done it three times now, and am now working on my second species change. Genus is next.)
So you see, it is not too late. You don't have to give up and lose everything just because a moron from Texas is so power-crazed that he wants to bring it all down with him. Let HIM go down instead, then laugh at him derisively for having such evil and adolescent notions. Send in the clowns, and lock up the serial killing mass murderers.
Future and Fun begin with "f. u..."
So tell your president "F. U." next time you see him.
This will cause the world to not end.
(Cross-posted on The American Street)
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Music in the Age of "George the Unready"
On December 10, 2004 I posted the following:
"Nightmare 9" from anonyMoses' POWWOWIRAQSI now available for free download
"Nightmare 9" is the soundtrack of a nightmare in Iraq. I hosted it at a different server, located HERE. The other songs are located here. "Nightmare 9" pays tribute to "Revolution 9" by the Beatles and "Plan 9 from Outer Space". Hope you enjoy it. Great for headphones and freakouts!
Little did I know that in 2006, Paul Krugman would write a column and call it "George the Unready". But he did. Here is Brad deLong's explanation of the title:
The reference is to the late tenth century English king who lost his kingdom to
the invading Danes, Ethelred the Unready--in Old English Aethelraed Unraed.
"Aethelraed" was his name, meaning "noble judgment." "Unraed" was attached to it
as a pun--"unraed" meaning not "unready" but "bad judgment." It's a pun.
I ran across Ethelred the Unready while studying genealogy. We are apparently related...although I identify more with his father, Edgar the Peaceable.
Iddybud alerted me to the Krugman column because she was getting a lot of hits, due to the fact that she had posted about my music, and mentioned the "George the Unready" part (which I had neglected to do).
Glad to see Paul Krugman and I are on the same wavelength...and that I was able to drive some traffic to Iddybud the Beyond Ready.
Iddy said:
The music inspired Patty Ann Smith to write this moving poem:
Can You Taste The Tears?
This is not the heartbeat of the Earth.
Can you hear the fear, can you taste the tears?
Can you smell the blood, can you touch the wounds?
This is the adrenalin rush of mankind at war with itself...
The death throws of a failed experiment.
Hope and despair living in the same body at the same time...
an impossible task that must be altered.
Otherwise, there will be merciful silence for the Earth in the end
and...no more children to build a future for.
~ Patty Ann Smith / Hope4America
The CD is still here, and available for $9.95, and there is a DVD in the works which will sell for 14.95. You can purchase either or both through the Paypal button located on your right.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
The Liberal Media presents: The Virtual Bohemia Channel
Virtual Bohemia Television that Heals and Edifies
alt.primetime
Featuring the best in alternative programming for the evening, late night and the following morning.
Freud's Banana
Not unlike Newton's Apple, but with emphasis on human sexuality. Sometimes a banana is just a banana. This wouldn't be one of those instances.
BOBBIES
England's answer to COPS, BOBBIES features the wacky antics of gentlemen with short bats. Viewers have commented on just how crude and boorish COPS seems, after viewing the more civilized Bobbies in action.
Food-Chain Gang
In this bizarre natural comedy, each rung up the ladder gets to laugh and point at the poor sucker one rung beneath him or her. But to make things interesting, the entire chain is literally chained together. Now let's see who comes out on top!
Arnold the Robopig
Arnold Zifflenegger has a problem. He is frankly a robotic swine overly concerned with Kohlberg's Third level of moral development, namely Law and Order. Watch as Arnold squeals on his friends and family until there is only one creature in the entire village who is not behind bars. Guess who.
Taboo Quest
Taboo Quest seeks out all the major world taboos...and exploits them for financial gain. This season we even hope to create a few new taboos, for your viewing pleasure.
As It Were
Virtual Bohemia's answer to the History Channel, only condensed into a 30-minute show...which is about as much History as most people want.
Imperfect Weekend
This Friday evening show previews some of the more arcane things taking place over the weekend. If you can't afford The Perfect Weekend...try an Imperfect one. You might see all your friends. At least the cheap ones!
Sexual In Your Window
This show, called the ballsiest on TV, is the best of video voyeurism, with particular emphasis on private sexual acts caught on tape. Great fun for the adult viewer!
Life After Money
Whether it be Life chasing after money, or what life can be like after you have lost it all, Life After Money is the show that treats of these two seemingly disparate states.
Genius Search
Star Search raised to the highest level, Genius Search seeks out the best minds in the world and rewards the recipient with whatever he or she needs in order to further their work.
Tobacco Executives
Tobacco Executives features the lives of the heads of this dying industry, only in a situational comedy format. The twist is that no one EVER tells the truth, so you can imagine the tangled webs they create.
Voyeur TV
First there was Real TV. Then there was Weird TV. Welcome to the Age of Voyeur TV! We highlight the best of voyeuristic TV shows around the world, as well as create a few ourselves...so there is absolutely no need to look elsewhere.
Green Witch Village
Green Witch Village documents the life and people of the community known as Green Witch Village...since that, indeed, is the name. Starting out as a Virtual Community, Green Witch Village is now a clothing-optional "Intentional Paradise" in the mountains of North Carolina. Membership is available, but is a million dollars. Can you pay my way? Watch to find out!
Rampant Pelvises
Rampant Pelvises is a sort-of MTV-style dance show...only the music is good and the people are good-looking and deliberately sexy. All "outfits" are dropdead, and can be purchased from the show. Same with the music. You can even chat with the dancers and set up 5-minute dates with them. Great for the kiddies!
Mama and Dada
A surreal show about how everyone's mother wants to be a Dadaist, but is invariably thwarted by agents from the cruel and lazy planet of Husbandry. Watch as the Husbands move in and remove toilet seats from the walls, only to leave the lid up elsewhere.
Canned Laughter
Canned Laughter is a new concept in TV. First we set up situations where people say unfunny things to each other, and then we edit in uproarious laughter so the viewer thinks that what was said is actually funny! On second thought...most "comedy" shows are just this! Oh well... Watch anyway. It's unfunny in a funny way.
Flower Arrangers
When Power Rangers failed to edify the children of America, but instead taught then how to beat each other up, a bunch of producers and enlightened TV execs got together and decided it was time that children learn something more socially useful, like flower arranging. This is the result. A little slow, but no violence.
Left-handed Animals
Documenting the strange lives of left-handed animals, Sir David Attenuationborough polishes his British accent to the low moans of widows statewide.
Seeing Godot Out
Godot has finally arrived, but was found to be a rather tedious soul, and so now the Becketts are trying to figure out how to get rid of him. In this episode, Fred Neechy, the neighbor suggests that Sam (Beckett) coerce the local newspaper to use "Godot is Dead" as their headline on Sunday. Godot does not move. But watch anyway.
World's Sexiest
First you had America's Funniest. Then came World's Funniest. Enter World's Sexiest... The show that features the sexiest everything in the world. Home videos, music, cars, jets, resorts, nightclubs, cities, countries, grocery stores...you name it. It's all on World's Sexiest!
Bleak Condo
The Busch family never seemed to be able to make it out of the '80s. Never really wanted to! Watch as this ludicrous family lives out their pathetic '80s lifestyle to the derision of their more evolved and hip neighbors.
Snail World
Road rage. Traffic jams. Standing in lines. These are among the many earmarks of the brick-and-mortar world, and this show is here to laugh at the people who have yet to make it to the Netizenry. Come join in the revelry! Or don't!!
Time Invaders
Thought by some to be more insidious than Space Invaders, Time Invaders are those people who take up way too much of your precious American time. This is their side of the story.
Stand-up Tragedies
The show for Stand-up comedians with low self-esteem. "If I bomb...so what! I am a walking tragedy!" Although many performances really are tragic, an occasional funny slips through now and again. See if you can spot one!
alt.primetime
Featuring the best in alternative programming for the evening, late night and the following morning.
Freud's Banana
Not unlike Newton's Apple, but with emphasis on human sexuality. Sometimes a banana is just a banana. This wouldn't be one of those instances.
BOBBIES
England's answer to COPS, BOBBIES features the wacky antics of gentlemen with short bats. Viewers have commented on just how crude and boorish COPS seems, after viewing the more civilized Bobbies in action.
Food-Chain Gang
In this bizarre natural comedy, each rung up the ladder gets to laugh and point at the poor sucker one rung beneath him or her. But to make things interesting, the entire chain is literally chained together. Now let's see who comes out on top!
Arnold the Robopig
Arnold Zifflenegger has a problem. He is frankly a robotic swine overly concerned with Kohlberg's Third level of moral development, namely Law and Order. Watch as Arnold squeals on his friends and family until there is only one creature in the entire village who is not behind bars. Guess who.
Taboo Quest
Taboo Quest seeks out all the major world taboos...and exploits them for financial gain. This season we even hope to create a few new taboos, for your viewing pleasure.
As It Were
Virtual Bohemia's answer to the History Channel, only condensed into a 30-minute show...which is about as much History as most people want.
Imperfect Weekend
This Friday evening show previews some of the more arcane things taking place over the weekend. If you can't afford The Perfect Weekend...try an Imperfect one. You might see all your friends. At least the cheap ones!
Sexual In Your Window
This show, called the ballsiest on TV, is the best of video voyeurism, with particular emphasis on private sexual acts caught on tape. Great fun for the adult viewer!
Life After Money
Whether it be Life chasing after money, or what life can be like after you have lost it all, Life After Money is the show that treats of these two seemingly disparate states.
Genius Search
Star Search raised to the highest level, Genius Search seeks out the best minds in the world and rewards the recipient with whatever he or she needs in order to further their work.
Tobacco Executives
Tobacco Executives features the lives of the heads of this dying industry, only in a situational comedy format. The twist is that no one EVER tells the truth, so you can imagine the tangled webs they create.
Voyeur TV
First there was Real TV. Then there was Weird TV. Welcome to the Age of Voyeur TV! We highlight the best of voyeuristic TV shows around the world, as well as create a few ourselves...so there is absolutely no need to look elsewhere.
Green Witch Village
Green Witch Village documents the life and people of the community known as Green Witch Village...since that, indeed, is the name. Starting out as a Virtual Community, Green Witch Village is now a clothing-optional "Intentional Paradise" in the mountains of North Carolina. Membership is available, but is a million dollars. Can you pay my way? Watch to find out!
Rampant Pelvises
Rampant Pelvises is a sort-of MTV-style dance show...only the music is good and the people are good-looking and deliberately sexy. All "outfits" are dropdead, and can be purchased from the show. Same with the music. You can even chat with the dancers and set up 5-minute dates with them. Great for the kiddies!
Mama and Dada
A surreal show about how everyone's mother wants to be a Dadaist, but is invariably thwarted by agents from the cruel and lazy planet of Husbandry. Watch as the Husbands move in and remove toilet seats from the walls, only to leave the lid up elsewhere.
Canned Laughter
Canned Laughter is a new concept in TV. First we set up situations where people say unfunny things to each other, and then we edit in uproarious laughter so the viewer thinks that what was said is actually funny! On second thought...most "comedy" shows are just this! Oh well... Watch anyway. It's unfunny in a funny way.
Flower Arrangers
When Power Rangers failed to edify the children of America, but instead taught then how to beat each other up, a bunch of producers and enlightened TV execs got together and decided it was time that children learn something more socially useful, like flower arranging. This is the result. A little slow, but no violence.
Left-handed Animals
Documenting the strange lives of left-handed animals, Sir David Attenuationborough polishes his British accent to the low moans of widows statewide.
Seeing Godot Out
Godot has finally arrived, but was found to be a rather tedious soul, and so now the Becketts are trying to figure out how to get rid of him. In this episode, Fred Neechy, the neighbor suggests that Sam (Beckett) coerce the local newspaper to use "Godot is Dead" as their headline on Sunday. Godot does not move. But watch anyway.
World's Sexiest
First you had America's Funniest. Then came World's Funniest. Enter World's Sexiest... The show that features the sexiest everything in the world. Home videos, music, cars, jets, resorts, nightclubs, cities, countries, grocery stores...you name it. It's all on World's Sexiest!
Bleak Condo
The Busch family never seemed to be able to make it out of the '80s. Never really wanted to! Watch as this ludicrous family lives out their pathetic '80s lifestyle to the derision of their more evolved and hip neighbors.
Snail World
Road rage. Traffic jams. Standing in lines. These are among the many earmarks of the brick-and-mortar world, and this show is here to laugh at the people who have yet to make it to the Netizenry. Come join in the revelry! Or don't!!
Time Invaders
Thought by some to be more insidious than Space Invaders, Time Invaders are those people who take up way too much of your precious American time. This is their side of the story.
Stand-up Tragedies
The show for Stand-up comedians with low self-esteem. "If I bomb...so what! I am a walking tragedy!" Although many performances really are tragic, an occasional funny slips through now and again. See if you can spot one!
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Close to the End
(Dedicated to Mr. Bush's last term in office.)
Sung to the music of "Close to the Edge" by YES
[edited to fit on your screen]
Close to the End
(also known as "Kos to the Edge")
by anonyMoses Hyperlincoln
A seasoned bitch could call you from the depths of your disgrace,
And rearrange your liver to match up your boily face,
And achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar,
Then taste the wrath of man recorded, losing all against the hour.
And assessing points to nowhere, leading ev'ry single one.
A Sundrop can exalt us like the blog of Mr. Sun,
And take away the plain in which we move,
And choose the course you're running.
Rough at the edge, found in the corner,
No right of way, no right today...
Close to the ledge, down by a liver,
No right of way, no right today...
Crossed the line around the changes of the Sumer,
Lashing out to dull the color of the sky.
Passed around a moment clothed in mourning sadder than we see.
Getting over all the time I had to worry,
Leaving all the changes far from far behind.
We relieve the tension only to find out the master's bait.
Down at the bend, round by the corner.
Close to the end, just by a liver.
Reasons will pass you by.
I get up, you get down.
Now that it's all over and done,
Now that you find, you're in a hole.
My mind convinced, eclipsed with the younger Moon attained with Rove.
It changed as almost brained amidst clear manna from above.
I crucified by hate and held the world within my hand.
There's you, the time, no logic, or reasons we don't understand.
Sad courage claimed the victims standing still for all to see,
As armoured movers took approach and overtook the sea.
There since McCord, the license, or the reasons we understood would be.
Rough at the edge, closed down my liver.
Kos to the edge, found in the korner.
Close to the end, round by the corner.
Down at the edge, found by the river.
Sudden call shouldn't take away your startled memory.
All in all, the journey takes you all the way.
As apart from any reality that you've ever seen and known.
Causing problems only to receive no mention,
Stupid paths that climb halfway into the void.
As we cross from side to side, we hear the total Bush refrain.
Down at the bend, round by the corner.
Close to the end, down by a liver.
Reasons will pass you by.
I get up, you get down...
In his white face
You can clearly see a Liddy sadly looking.
Saying that he'd take the blame
For the crucifixion of their web domain.
I get up, I get down,
I get up, I'm a clown.
Two million people barely satisfied.
Two hundred women watch one woman cry, too late.
The eyes of hurricanes can achieve.
How many millions does he deceive each day?
You get up, I get down.
I get up, you get down.
In charge of who is there in charge of me.
Do I look on blindly and say I see the way?
The truth is written all along the page.
How old will we be before we come of age for truth?
I git up, I git down.
I git up, I git down.
I git up, you git down...
The time between the votes relates the colors to the schemes.
A constant vogue of triumphs dislocate man, so it seems.
And space between the focus group ascend knowledge of Plame.
Their song and dance envelop time, lost social temp'rance fuels the flame.
Then according to the man who showed his outstretched arms to space,
He turned around and pointed, threat'ning all the human race.
I shook my head and smiled a whisper, knowing all about the place...
On the hill we viewed the silence of the valley,
Called to witness cycles only of the past.
And we reach all this with movements in between the sad remark.
Close to the bend, down by a liver.
Down at the end, found in the corner.
Reasons will pass you by,
Now that it's all over and done,
Call to the seed, write Mr. Sun.
Now that you find, you're in a hole.
Reasons will pass you by,
I git up, I git down.
I git up, you git down.
You git up, I git down...
Sung to the music of "Close to the Edge" by YES
[edited to fit on your screen]
Close to the End
(also known as "Kos to the Edge")
by anonyMoses Hyperlincoln
A seasoned bitch could call you from the depths of your disgrace,
And rearrange your liver to match up your boily face,
And achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar,
Then taste the wrath of man recorded, losing all against the hour.
And assessing points to nowhere, leading ev'ry single one.
A Sundrop can exalt us like the blog of Mr. Sun,
And take away the plain in which we move,
And choose the course you're running.
Rough at the edge, found in the corner,
No right of way, no right today...
Close to the ledge, down by a liver,
No right of way, no right today...
Crossed the line around the changes of the Sumer,
Lashing out to dull the color of the sky.
Passed around a moment clothed in mourning sadder than we see.
Getting over all the time I had to worry,
Leaving all the changes far from far behind.
We relieve the tension only to find out the master's bait.
Down at the bend, round by the corner.
Close to the end, just by a liver.
Reasons will pass you by.
I get up, you get down.
Now that it's all over and done,
Now that you find, you're in a hole.
My mind convinced, eclipsed with the younger Moon attained with Rove.
It changed as almost brained amidst clear manna from above.
I crucified by hate and held the world within my hand.
There's you, the time, no logic, or reasons we don't understand.
Sad courage claimed the victims standing still for all to see,
As armoured movers took approach and overtook the sea.
There since McCord, the license, or the reasons we understood would be.
Rough at the edge, closed down my liver.
Kos to the edge, found in the korner.
Close to the end, round by the corner.
Down at the edge, found by the river.
Sudden call shouldn't take away your startled memory.
All in all, the journey takes you all the way.
As apart from any reality that you've ever seen and known.
Causing problems only to receive no mention,
Stupid paths that climb halfway into the void.
As we cross from side to side, we hear the total Bush refrain.
Down at the bend, round by the corner.
Close to the end, down by a liver.
Reasons will pass you by.
I get up, you get down...
In his white face
You can clearly see a Liddy sadly looking.
Saying that he'd take the blame
For the crucifixion of their web domain.
I get up, I get down,
I get up, I'm a clown.
Two million people barely satisfied.
Two hundred women watch one woman cry, too late.
The eyes of hurricanes can achieve.
How many millions does he deceive each day?
You get up, I get down.
I get up, you get down.
In charge of who is there in charge of me.
Do I look on blindly and say I see the way?
The truth is written all along the page.
How old will we be before we come of age for truth?
I git up, I git down.
I git up, I git down.
I git up, you git down...
The time between the votes relates the colors to the schemes.
A constant vogue of triumphs dislocate man, so it seems.
And space between the focus group ascend knowledge of Plame.
Their song and dance envelop time, lost social temp'rance fuels the flame.
Then according to the man who showed his outstretched arms to space,
He turned around and pointed, threat'ning all the human race.
I shook my head and smiled a whisper, knowing all about the place...
On the hill we viewed the silence of the valley,
Called to witness cycles only of the past.
And we reach all this with movements in between the sad remark.
Close to the bend, down by a liver.
Down at the end, found in the corner.
Reasons will pass you by,
Now that it's all over and done,
Call to the seed, write Mr. Sun.
Now that you find, you're in a hole.
Reasons will pass you by,
I git up, I git down.
I git up, you git down.
You git up, I git down...
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
anonyMoses presents...BushWorld Symphony
BushWorld Symphony is finally finished, and now I'm going to have to rest my music bone. BushWorld Symphony is a 16-part symphony composed mostly in the early 21st century, and finally cobbled together into a unified whole only days ago.
Songs with minimal descriptives. (Some have more than one part) . This is what the songs resemble, if only they good...
BUSHWORLD SYMPHONY by Anonymoses Hyperlincoln
March of the Plebeians
The symphony opens with a swaggering, half-drunk, Hindemithian intro with low horns, tympani and percussives.
Spatial Someone
The mudane gives way to the Cosmic. Kitaroesque.
Monks in the Wild
Shades of Arvo Part, Henrik Gorecki and Thomas Tallis.
God Breathing
Blinds of Britten, Vaughan Williams and Mahler.
Monks in Space
Orff on acid.
Human Love
Shades of Copland's "Tender Land".
Wars of Adolescence
John Williams meets Igor Stravinsky who then meets Phillip Glass, gets nervous and then returns to Igor who is now dating Stockhausen.
Love Theme
Shades of Morrocone or Aaberg.
Bold Pavane
Faure on Steroids.
Jeremiad for a Goofy Planet
King Crimsonesque lamentation. (Starless, Lark's Tongue)
March of the Patricians
Mickey Hart meets Arvo Part, has sex with Elliot Carter then roosts with Radiohead.
Songs with minimal descriptives. (Some have more than one part) . This is what the songs resemble, if only they good...
BUSHWORLD SYMPHONY by Anonymoses Hyperlincoln
March of the Plebeians
The symphony opens with a swaggering, half-drunk, Hindemithian intro with low horns, tympani and percussives.
Spatial Someone
The mudane gives way to the Cosmic. Kitaroesque.
Monks in the Wild
Shades of Arvo Part, Henrik Gorecki and Thomas Tallis.
God Breathing
Blinds of Britten, Vaughan Williams and Mahler.
Monks in Space
Orff on acid.
Human Love
Shades of Copland's "Tender Land".
Wars of Adolescence
John Williams meets Igor Stravinsky who then meets Phillip Glass, gets nervous and then returns to Igor who is now dating Stockhausen.
Love Theme
Shades of Morrocone or Aaberg.
Bold Pavane
Faure on Steroids.
Jeremiad for a Goofy Planet
King Crimsonesque lamentation. (Starless, Lark's Tongue)
March of the Patricians
Mickey Hart meets Arvo Part, has sex with Elliot Carter then roosts with Radiohead.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
TARHEEL TAVERN : Going to Blogolina in my Mind
A Blogtour of North Carolina
In my mind I'm going to Blogolina.
Can't you take the sunshine,
can't you just drink the moonshine?
Ain't it just like a friend of wine
to smack me on behind?
Yes, I'm going to Blogolina in my mind.
With a holy host of bloggers blogging round me,
listening to the dark side of the moon.
And it seems like this blog goes on like this forever...
The blogosphere is not equally distributed throughout these United, or should I say Untied States. It is not even equally distributed around this state. Any look at NCBlogs.com will tell you that. The heaviest concentration is in the Triad/Triangle region, with Charlotte and the Mountains in second rank, and Jesse country pulling up the rear, so to speak.
There are reasons for this unequal distribution, just as there are ways and needs for expanding into these undernourished regions, these bozarts, again, if you will.
That makes twice that I've said "will", and it is beginning to disconcert me. I am growing ill at the thought of Will. And no, not Will Robinson, should you be lost or spaced. I'm talking Will, as in Der Willen. Will as in George's "They will not break our Will." Or Leni and Dolphy's "Triumph of the Will". Not wit. Not love. Not caritas. But Will. Getting your way, costs be damned.
But alas I digress. It is what I do. Life is digression. The opposite of Will.
That said, let me try to hoist this travel guide back into the saddle, and quit examining the remains of our passing.
Coming, going, the waterfowl leaves not a trace,
nor does it need a guide.
I remember that koan from the sunny '70s, when I first made their acquaintance. I remember telling Rob Urban, who also thought it was "pretty neat". Neither of us embodied it though.
But neither, I predict, have you. Yet we have no Hiroshimas to live down either.
Or do we?
Live simply that others may simply live.
More true to that one I suppose. Some are actually astonished, or turned to stone, at the simplicity of my lean-to down by the river.
OK, it is not really a lean-to, and it is not near a river, but it is simple, practically Thorouvian. But relatively energy-efficient.
So, what was that about a saddle?
Alright. Enough! Time to start over.
[ I WILL STILL BE TAKING SUBMISSIONS UNTIL I AM TUCKERED OUT. THE FINAL VERSION WILL BE SET AT MIDNIGHT. - THANKS FOR PLAYING. - DAVE]
Blogtouring North Carolina
The blogosphere is not equally distributed throughout these United States. It is not even equally distributed around this state. Any look at NCBlogs.com will tell you that. The heaviest concentration is in the Triad/Triangle region, with Charlotte and the Mountains in second rank, and Eastern North Carolina pulling up the rear.
There are reasons for this unequal distribution, just as there are ways and needs for expanding into these undernourished regions of the state, country and world. In the old days, it was the seaport cities where civilization and culture mostly took place, because of their being a crossroads of different cultures. As the late Dr. Richard Schultes once said, "Monoculture breeds disease." But moreover, it breeds ignorance.
In these new times, it is not just the seaports, but also the blogports, and other places where minds meet, where you will find civilization and culture thriving. North Carolina is among these meeting grounds, along with New York, California, Massachusetts, Virginia, Oregon, Washington, and parts of Texas. Places where universities also thrive.
Within North Carolina, the universities are mainly in the Triad/Triangle area, along with the bulk of the blogosphere. And it is these places who will reap the rewards of blogtourism. So when a blogger, such as the illustrious Iddybud (who is an honorary Tarheel, although she lives in New York, and has appeared on CNN, the LA Times, Yes Weekly, and on John Edwards' blog, as well as others), comes to North Carolina, she knows she can contact Tarheel bloggers, tell them of the upcoming visit, and then tour the state with bloggers as guides and helpers. No blogger a stranger. And speaking of which, Jude (Iddy) plans to attend the upcoming event of the year, which is ConvergeSouth, to be held in Blogsboro (Greensboro) on the weekend of October 7th...so introduce yourself, and extend some of that famous Southern Hospitality. But if you really feel the need to throw tomatoes, make it the Jellybean variety, or the Sungolds or Juliets or the Calabash Purple, such as you might find in the garden, or blog, of Laurie, who because of her Slowly She Turned blog, has recently been named "Blogsboro's slow food guru". And throw them at me, not Jude, or anyone else for that matter. I'll come armed with lettuce and bacon.
Laurie's 'matersEAT AND BE EATEN
And speaking of Bacon, how about them six degrees of Kevin Bacon! To think that every person alive has only six degrees of separation, at most, from Hollywood's Kevin Bacon, whose quatrayle, or great-great-great grandfather, was none other than Novum Organum's Sir Francis Bacon, who, no, did not write Shakespeare (or "Sheik's Peer", as some have insinuated).
Was he really a Sufi?A DIGRESSION ON NAMES
Prince Albert Gore Vidal Sassoon
Earl Warren Christopher Lloyd George Michael Jackson Browne
Patricia Neal Diamond Jim Cary Grant Tinker Bell
Osama Bin Franklin Roosevelt Grier Garson Kanin Abel
OK, so I was wrong about Kevin and Francis. His quatrayle was a guy named Lonnie. But this fascination with the interconnectedness of humanity, not to mention the interconnectedness of all life, has now merged with technology, and now, because of so-called "social software" such as LinkedIn.com as well as Ecademy, Ryze, Multiply, MySpace, Friendster and others, tracking and using these connections has become but a mouseclick away. I have to thank Tarheel Taverner -- not to be confused with John Taverner, who is one of America's premiere composers, I believe, although I know there were Taverners in colonial Virginia -- Dr. Sue of Sue's Place for urging me to get linked in, as I now see that it is to blogging what blogging is to solitaire. Which is to say that when you play solitaire, you connect with no one. When you blog, you are likely to connect, but usually with Americans. With sites like LinkedIn, you are just as likely to connect with people from other countries as you are to connect with Americans. Your cybertourismic possibilities are equally widened, as are other possibilities.
Also linked in are Billy the Blogging Poet, Matt Gross, Roch Smith Jr., Ben Hwang and others, included, but not limited to, Dan Gillmor, Steve Rubel, Dave Taylor, Wiley Wiggins...but there is nothing stopping everyone here from also connecting in with these new tools. And by using them, welding the relationships, in a manner not unlike that of photoblogger, Mandie's omnicapable father, one may truly cast their net worldwide, and fish the exotic seas of distant shores. Bring the world home, and home to the world.
And North Carolina has so much to offer to the world. Do people around the world suffer loss? Of course not! But if they did, they could find comfort in the books and blog of Erin Monahan, for example, and learn how to cope with loss, divorce, death. Her Poetic Acceptance could touch hearts not only in North Carolina, and America, but could be touching lives even in the dark and archaeological cloacae of Harappa or Mohenjo-Daro, or at the Priory of Sion in risible Rennes, while making a nice profit for Erin.DO WHAT IS PLEASING TO ONE'S SELF AND USEFUL TO OTHERS
Poetry, it seems, has helped more than Erin cope with loss. Billy Jones too has found meaning in his own poetry, and others. And his blog highlights his poetry and online novels, but also features the poetry of others. His shorter prose is also enlightening, as in this post, where he celebrates the life of his father, and laments his passing on the anniversary of his death. And although Billy wonders if he will ever attain the greatness of his father, we think his father would be darned proud. Particularly of his work in establishing North Carolina as one of the blog hotspots on the globe. I know I am. And I know many other that are as well.I say we erect a statue!
But lest it be said that North Carolina is great, but so serious, one need look no further than Valerie Nieman to be given a dose of levitas and jocundity...
AUTOMATIC PENCIL, PART THE FIRST
Automatic pencil
Autopencil, to write moving finger without thought, to fill page after page like a signature machine freed of the loops and squiggles of a program, like the mind in long stretches of waiting for something, waiting is all, waiting is the empty place from which understanding blooms like a seed sudden from the desert after a breath of rain.
Automatic pencil
My father’s clipboard, his pencils, shop pencils thick in the barrel, industrial.I have one, black plastic or Bakelite, steel at each end where the lead came out and where the eraser sat, now an empty tube. The legend: Champion Tool & Die Co. McKeesport, Pa. 15131412 751-6000
I wonder if they’re still in business, or rusted with the rest of the belt, foundries and steel suppliers, solvent and paint dealers, tool and die works, trucking companies, designers, fabricators, merchants. A whole world whittled away, year by year, until now the red brick buildings stand like historic sites, Hadrian’s Wall or the Great Wall or some other useless thing, a single bare bulb burning over a back door.
Automatic pencil
Is not to be preferred over the traditional sort. Thin lead in yellow plastic. Ersatz. No smell of cedar, no scalloped shavings, no angled shading across a ruled page as faces and horses emerge from doodles, no pencil-point under the skin from grade-school bullies. - Val Nieman-
Her latest book is Fidelities, a short story collection from West Virginia University Press. The collection of 18 stories includes two winners of the Elizabeth Simpson Smith Prize from the Charlotte Writers Club, as well as stories that have appeared in the News & Observer, Wellspring, and the anthologies One Paycheck Away from Main Street Rag Press (Charlotte), The O. Henry Festival Stories 2003 (Greensboro) and Racing Home: Stories from Award-Winning North Carolina Writers, The Paper Journey Press (Durham).
She has also published poetry, a novel about the '70s called Survivors, and an SF novel way back when, Neena Gathering.
AUTOMATIC PENCIL, PART THE SECOND
In which our state's most beloved Ogre, makes the following astute assessment:
The Quick Brown Fox
The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.
But after the quick brown fox jumped over, the lazy dog moved quickly. The lazy dog ran after the quick brown fox. The quick brown fox discovered that it was not as quick as it thought it might have been. The formerly lazy dog quickly closed the distance between it and the not-so-quick fox as the chase continued.
The quick brown fox ran past Chicken Little, Henny Penny, Turkey Lurkey, and even past his cousin, Sly Fox. The lazy dog, now panting profusely, continued to get closer and closer. The quick brown fox hopped on the alligator's head for a ride over the river. Still the lazy dog followed.
They continued over the hills and through the woods. The race went down the path and the quick brown fox took a shortcut that his half-brother suggested through the woods that led past grandma's house. The lazy dog fell behind a little while traversing the thick undergrowth of the woods.
On the other side of the forest, the quick brown fox ran through the brier patch. Brer rabbit waved as first the quick brown fox, then the lazy dog, sped through his brier path. The briers slowed the quick brown fox, but the lazy dog continued.
Past the brier patch, the quick brown fox ran up the hill. At the top of the hill was a well that had recently been abandoned by Jack and Jill. With nowhere else to go, the quick brown fox stopped and turned to face the lazy dog. He bared his teeth at the lazy dog, hoping that it would turn him away.
The lazy dog stopped, panting from the long chase. He paused to catch his breath, watching the quick brown fox the entire time. Finally, the lazy dog said, "Why did you jump over me?"
From the Left Coast of North Carolina, to the Right, our state abounds in talent, fortuna et lux.
And speaking of which, Science and Politics' Bora Zivkovic, inches from his PhD, graces us with his ample and protean mind, week after week, and for this occasion has explained the differences between left and right...when it comes to science, pseudoscience, borderlands science, and nonsense.
About the pseudosciences he says:
Lefty pseudoscience was always marginal and marginalized by everyone on both the Left and the Right. No political party has ever pushed for astrology or biorhythms to be used in classrooms or in military planning.
However, attack on science, reason and rationality is the centerpiece of the Right-Wing strategy. The only way they can save their medieval notions about society, economics, religion, science, race, gender equality, etc. from being deposited forever in the trashbin of history is if they systematically brainwash every new generation into dogmatism, uncritical thinking and fearful obedience to their authority. They are in power now - White House, Congress, Supreme Court - and they are ramming anti-science and anti-reality ideas into school (and into media) as hard as they can.
His provocative and entertaining explanation can be read in its entirety here. Read and enjoy each delightful and instructive paragraph. Dull minds think alike. Coturnix is an original.
And for a slightly different take, you may want to snort a sprocket...which is a helluva lot safer than snorting "the powders", or "the vapors", which is just gross. The best thing to snort, though, is air. And the best way to snort air is pranayama...not to be confused with melinama, which is not to be confused with melanoma.
Thhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee thing is this. This is the thing, and the thing, is thusly this. You see.
And thus, you may feel something a bit odd in your whithers today. It could be that you are dreaming of taking droughts of Dramamine (unit of measure: drams), or perhaps possible pensives of Pontius Pilate’s palate, who ponders persimmons.
We are the persimmons. EAT US.
You can rest assured that the way is weirdly wondrous and wends through the jungle. Night thoughts, we can be assured. Assuredly, be.
Thoughts of 1 (2? 3!) hit my cortex. Impaled! It is time for much work, and we have so much to do, and not much time.
Lastly: remember. We are all (in love). In love, we all are.
In love.
Quick! Get this man some Asinine Alliteration Antidote with the anti-Charles Dodgson additive!
— Andrew S. Damick Aug 5, 10:01 AM #
“You don’t see the Shintus come around here, shattering sheetglass in the shithouse, shouting slogans…”
“Oh, don’t you go practicing your alliteration on me!”
Or so says Snort a Sprocket from the smerpological depths.
"Smerpological depths?", you ask. Why not alabandical depths, or antipelargical depths, flosculational depths or miasmic depths?
To answer these questions, we have to turn to our resident sesquipedalian, Melinama at Pratie's Place: a phrontistery (affront history?) where you will learn the meaning of the previous paragraph, as well as much else besides.
We owe this word to the Roman writer Horace, who wrote in his Ars Poetica (The Art of Poetry) [ see also Arse Poetica] : “Proicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba” (“He throws aside his paint pots and his words that are a foot and a half long”). It comes from Latin sesqui–, one and a half, plus ped, a foot. It was borrowed into English in the seventeenth century and has become a favourite of those writers who like self-referential terms, or are addicted to polysyllabic humour. - Weird WordsCarolinians, and indeed, Southerners, have long been verbophiliacs, which may alas stem from the predominance of Shakespeare in our cultural heritage, dating back to England, or maybe the interplay of cultures, or it may be what historian David Hackett Fischer called our love of leisure and "killing time".
With that in mind, allow me to share the adventures of Durham's Ron Hudson, who is killing time in Spain and Portugal. Let him share some of his own methods for killing time. You can keep track of his journeys by bookmarking his blog, 2Sides2Ron.
In this present age of threats to democracy and individual liberty, probably only the scamp and the spirit of the scamp alone will save us from becoming lost as serially numbered units in the masses of disciplined, obedient, regimented and uniformed coolies. The scamp will be the last and most formidable enemy of dictatorships. He will be the champion of human dignity and individual freedom, and will be the last to be conquered. All modern civilization depends entirely upon him.
-Lin Yutang
The Importance of Living 1937
On the other hand...
"War paralyzes your courage and deadens the spirit of true manhood. It degrades and stupefies with the sense that you are not responsible, that 'tis not yours to think and reason why, but to do and die,' like the hundred thousand others doomed like yourself. War means blind obedience, unthinking stupidity, brutish callousness, wanton destruction, and irresponsible murder."
—Alexander Berkman
The Berkman quote just came to me in an email from another honorary Tarheel, who absolutely loves it down here, but lives in Cleveland, just a couple of miles from the base that sent so many to their deaths recently, and about which he says:
I'm sure you heard about the deaths of all those marines who came from my home state. Everyone here is just devastated at the tragic loss of life. I have never seen such an outpouring of grief and sorrow in quite a long time. The battalion headquarters where those marines were stationed is only a couple of miles from where I live. I drive past it every time I go visit my Mother. I think people are now starting to realize how absolutely insane and senseless this war is and who it's truly impacting.
But that's so negative, man! Don't drag me to negativeland. Sharks and Condit are what everyone is talking about now! No wait, that was on 9/10 and the months before. What is it we're talking about now? Oh yeah...shuttle debris and flag burning.
The question then becomes...
When the Media obsesses on junk-food news, are we in for a whacking? On September the 8th, 2001, while walking to a Yes concert at Radio City Music Hall, in, yes, Manhattan, I asked a media person about the obsession with sharks and Condit, to which he responded, "It is a slow news time." My intuition* told me otherwise. That is why I trust my intuition.
And when I need a muffler repair, I trust Maaco. To charge me an arm and a leg.
So why is the media obsessing on trivial, diversionary matters? Don't tell me they are still in cahoots with Daddy Warbucks, and that we are about to be taken to the cleaners yet again.
And wasn't Bush vacationing in Texas during the months before and during 9/11?
Is there a connection between Bush's vacations, a pussilanimous and diversionary Media, and terror?
It is such negativeland, Debbie Downer kind of stuff, that makes people want to watch sports all day and night, with the only reality being reality TV, which should really be labeled "reality-food TV", following Kraft's famous individually wrapped cheese-food ... also a few degrees of separation from reality.
But I digress. I am not a Fascist so I am allowed that luxury. More people should digress. Procrastination can be a virtue. I wish we would have procrastinated on the war. But nooo! Even the War Machine has to show a profit, and the Media has way too much invested in their parent companies. Thank God for blogs!
But I am surely starting to sound cynical. The MSM, mainstream media, corporate media, have great and good people working for them. Some could even become bloggers if they tried! But as Ben Bagdikian points out, and which can be found at Pratie's Place:"Trying to be a first-rate reporter on the average American newspaper is like trying to play Bach's St. Matthew's Passion on a ukulele." - Bagdikian's Observation
I should talk about religion...
How 'bout them stupid Baptists!
Naa...better not go there. Hell, Clinton AND Gore were both Southern Baptists! The exemplars! (Not to be confused with the Templars.)
The TemplarsSpeaking of confusion, who, besides me, is confused by this most appalling of Tarheel Taverns? Can I git a show of hands? OUCH! Not of the face, Reverend!
I know...one hand clapping. Very funny.
Now I realize that there are going to be some fellers who do not agree with my position on war and peace, and might even claim that our illustrious prince of war is to be preferred to the prince of peace, as Pam's House Blend points out, but alas, their numbers are dwindling, largely because of the relationship between time and truth. What is new is rarely good, because if it is good, it is not long new, but long old. I'm long and old, so I know. (Stupid, the word is "tall"!)
Fine! Whatever!
And so it goes in sweet Caroline. Sweetness and light. Delicacy of feeling. Whimsical charm. T'ungjen.
And speaking of T'ungjen, we may as well go over some other Chinese terms, and why not start from the top?
A DIGRESSION ON 4-LETTER WORD POETRY
Time will tell
your mama that Karl
Rove will fess most
lies that Rush took
into Hell when dope
took that mind away.
Away! Into that cool
blue roof. Away! Help
your mama make soup.
Away!
Some days seem like they came from Hell.Better second-hand and first-rate, than first-hand and second-rate
And what better proof of this than a Sunday circumambulation of a good second-hand store...
Let our favorite lenslinger, Stew Pittman, show you how it is done. If you don't know him, he is the premiere video-journalist in the blogosphere, at least as far as I have seen. AND he's right up the street!
Check out his take on second-hand store shopping. He won't dissappoint.
Only a few shoppers noticed the bearded man with the fancy-cam gliding down aisle five. Most just shuffled behind battered shopping carts, staring fixedly at row after row of hand-me-down clothes and second hand doodads. North Carolina’s annual tax-free weekend was only a few hours old, but the feeding frenzy was well underway...
But if that is a little to down-to-earth, you may find solace in Joe Guarino's post on Supreme Court Nominations, Ellen Goodman and the Right to Take Human Life.
Since Justice O'Connor's retirement announcement, Ellen Goodman has been writing often about the issue of Supreme Court nominations and abortion. I have been following her column in the News and Record... - Joe Guarino
JOCULAR CONCLUSION
A scientist and a philosopher were being chased by a hungry lion. The scientist made some quick calculations, he said “it's no good trying to outrun it, its catching up”.
The philosopher kept a little ahead and replied “I am not trying to outrun the lion, I am trying to outrun you !”A woman gets on a bus with her baby. The bus driver says: “That's the ugliest baby that I've ever seen. Ugh!” The woman goes to the rear of the bus and sits down, fuming. She says to a man next to her: “The driver just insulted me!”
The man says: “You go right up there and tell him off – go ahead, I'll hold your monkey for you.”Thanks to all who played and/or enjoyed this little foray into the life of the Tarheel Tavern. It has been a barrel of said monkeys. But looks aren't everything.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
The World of Charlotte Bloggers
Charlotte by Night
I have just updated my Charlotte Bloggers blogroll (on the right sidebar), and am sure I left some out. John...could you send me your neighborhood blog again. I forgot the &$*%# address (being old and stupid and all). In deference to space, I have clumped them all together on this post like a giant amoeba, which it may well be. Need to check with the scientists and creationists, and see if they can split the difference and come up with a reasonable explanation for the blogamoeba you now behold. The new are emboldened.
CHARLOTTE BLOGGERS a100wwe's blog of news, politics, and sci/techAce PryhillAffecting FrankAfter Hours w/ Jason WorkmanAku-Rei*Ana Kova*Anna BananaanonyMosesBanter, Bitching & Moaning Begging To DifferBeth CherryBlackHoleIraqBrady Gaster (TatoChip)Cada dia, cada vez...Carolina Panther PageCharlotte Weblogger Meetup GroupCheerful Malcontent Cold FuryCollection of Thoughts, ACozmic BlondeDarryl's JourneyDaveTemple.comDione Rochell*Don't cry for me, pas de calais (Skyfi)DrainMyBrain.comEruanne Grace*Frocky (Doombilly)From the Ashes (Meishi Namida)Funk-Rhythmgabuyafa*Garrick WellsGene G. McLaughlin*Greg Burnett web logGrinsNLaughter Guyana GyurlHistory of Time TravelHitched to Everything Hugh R. F. CampbellHyperLincolnIncoherent MumblingsInside These Walls Jamzoo Ken Webster Legend of the SlashfiendLiberals Lie (Brian Simms) mitch*weblogMocklive Monkey ChatteringsMore than Expression (Jennifer Medlock)Caleida (My Lenore)*Natural Mystic's Random Musings NerdiiBlackBoyNorth Cacalacky PoliticsNorth Carolina Experiment, Thensikora*Ogre's ViewPatrick McElhaneyPerpetual Insanity Perpetual PlatitudesPhilobloggerPseudomuffin Art*Random IndentationsRandomURLRaphael D'Angelo*Reality BlogsRhapsody Radish Richard Jones Write Site*Rich BarrettRight-Wing NewsRockSchoolRuby RedSample RealitySimply IdleSister ToldjahSir Shannon Soaring Dragon*Soneji's Domain.Spilt MilkStatmark's Reasonable BlogStojak: Blithering Idiom*Tempting Talesterri's cellar doorThe 704.comThe Allan Handelman Show The Charlotte CapitalistThe Labyrinthine Mind The SeanachaiTheTrenchcoat ChroniclesThis is not the greatest blog in the world. (Kathy Kraly)T. L. Crowe*tokitikki*True Confessions of an Ex-Human Tweak & Beat*vintage: a lasting originawebakerYada yada yada*YesButNoButYesZhunZi
Thursday, February 10, 2005
When will the Charlotte Observer wake up to blogging?
It is so frustrating living in a backward city like Charlotte. Especially when smaller cities and towns only a hundred miles away are leaving us in the dust.
I have been observing the strange wandering in the dark for a few months now, but also remember wishing dear Charlotte would wake up to the web. And alas, it finally happened, and was, in fact, embraced. But for Charlotte, which is to say, the Charlotte Observer or in this case, John McBride -- see I can compliment! -- the learning curve is slow indeed. Even negative.
I have been waiting for the Observer -- good people all, and people I defended earlier today from charges of being Communist sympathisers -- to mention the word, blog, in their paper, like I said, for months. And finally something squeaks out, in the Business section, and is negative and basically shrugs it off, as if the handful of flip blogs visited were representative of the whole. But alas, there are as many kinds of blogs as there are kinds of newspapers. And the quality of writing in blogs, is both better and worse than in newspapers. And certainly more raw, less edited. Less "interested". Or, if "interested", explicitly so.
I worked at the Observer back in the 80s, and know they are not stupid people. The author of the piece, John McBride, is an old acquantance, even. Played softball together. Partied. Had a few words. And probably a few brews. He is a bright guy, and a real sweetheart of a personality. Why he is writing about blogs, and disparagingly, is beyond me. Had we kept up, he certainly would not hold the opinions he does.
I'd like to challenge him to come to Chapel Hill this weekend then write about it. Or talk to the editor of the Greensboro News & Record -- a newspaper that is destined to make history...and the future.
Here are some excerpts from John's piece:
Will blogs liberate us or just bog us down?
JOHN MCBRIDE
Last year, blog readership jumped 58 percent in America, so now would be an excellent time to acknowledge our limitations.
If we can.
The problem is we don't always know when we stink. A Cornell University study showed that people who bombed tests of logic, grammar and humor "grossly overestimated" how well they did on the tests.
"Not only do they reach erroneous conclusions," said the authors, "but their incompetence robs them of the metacognitive ability to realize it."
I have been observing the strange wandering in the dark for a few months now, but also remember wishing dear Charlotte would wake up to the web. And alas, it finally happened, and was, in fact, embraced. But for Charlotte, which is to say, the Charlotte Observer or in this case, John McBride -- see I can compliment! -- the learning curve is slow indeed. Even negative.
I have been waiting for the Observer -- good people all, and people I defended earlier today from charges of being Communist sympathisers -- to mention the word, blog, in their paper, like I said, for months. And finally something squeaks out, in the Business section, and is negative and basically shrugs it off, as if the handful of flip blogs visited were representative of the whole. But alas, there are as many kinds of blogs as there are kinds of newspapers. And the quality of writing in blogs, is both better and worse than in newspapers. And certainly more raw, less edited. Less "interested". Or, if "interested", explicitly so.
I worked at the Observer back in the 80s, and know they are not stupid people. The author of the piece, John McBride, is an old acquantance, even. Played softball together. Partied. Had a few words. And probably a few brews. He is a bright guy, and a real sweetheart of a personality. Why he is writing about blogs, and disparagingly, is beyond me. Had we kept up, he certainly would not hold the opinions he does.
I'd like to challenge him to come to Chapel Hill this weekend then write about it. Or talk to the editor of the Greensboro News & Record -- a newspaper that is destined to make history...and the future.
Here are some excerpts from John's piece:
Will blogs liberate us or just bog us down?
JOHN MCBRIDE
Last year, blog readership jumped 58 percent in America, so now would be an excellent time to acknowledge our limitations.
If we can.
The problem is we don't always know when we stink. A Cornell University study showed that people who bombed tests of logic, grammar and humor "grossly overestimated" how well they did on the tests.
"Not only do they reach erroneous conclusions," said the authors, "but their incompetence robs them of the metacognitive ability to realize it."
OK. So John starts out talking about blogs, and jumps right into scientific proof that many people "stink" but think they don't stink. Not a very positive approach to freedom of speech, of which blogs represent the ultimate expression. He goes on...
Yeah. Their metacogni-whatchamacallit was robbed. That's what I was going to say.
It's not that they didn't get the jokes. They didn't get the jokes and they thought they were Chris Rock. They were, as the authors put it, "unskilled and unaware of it."
Which brings us to the Internet.
Again, drawing the comparison. Making jabs. And the word is metacognitive. Remember your greek? Meta=tag. Cognitive=of or related to Cognac. Getting tagged on Cognac. Do it all the time.
More than 90 percent of people who use search engines online say they are "confident" of their searching skills, according to a recent study by the Pew Internet and American Life Project.
But only 38 percent of them could tell paid search results from unpaid search results.
Hello? We're hot stuff with Google -- but we don't know an ad when we see it? These must be the same people who hate getting spammed -- and then buy the herbal remedy the spam hawks.
It's easy to shake our heads and wonder how people can be so dumb. If you've ever watched "Jerry Springer" or driven in Mecklenburg County, you've done it. People really can be stupid.
Apparently John has not been introduced to the concept of aggregators, as that is, more and more, how people find blogs. Not simply Googling. But again...why the hostility? Why the condescension? Because of "compensation?" Jeff Gannon was compensated. Steven Glass was compensated. Jayson Blair was compensated. So are Rush Limbaugh, SEAN HANNITY, Colmes and all the other, apparently smart writers and pundits.
But let's be humble. We all have limitations. On some level, each of us has a few lights out in our metacogni-whatever marquee.
Which brings us to blogs.
At last count, there were 8 million blogs, the new online journal craze that's sweeping the nation. The numbers are growing fast. Anyone who can get online can start one for nothing and say whatever they want.
Do I detect a little envy here? :)
Forget about metacogni-whosis for a minute. Eight million people writing what they know online!
Blogging may represent the ultimate triumph of free speech. Everyone's a publisher with no limitations on space or distribution. Write as much as you like -- no extra charge for paper or postage.
This is no small advantage. Who knows? Maybe he is secretly promoting blogging, only subreptiously, so he won't get whacked by the man upstairs.
Or blogging may represent the ultimate in banality. Actual quote from a randomly selected blog: "Finally got my birthday card from my parents. It came today, but the neighbor got it in her box by mistake. I'm glad they didn't forget." Oooooo -- author!
OK. Go pick a random quote from a random newspaper. Here. I will...
"DENTURES: ACHIEVING THE 'EXTRAORDINARY' for those with higher expectations." Well...talk about banality! Oh, and there is a horoscope, and a car ad, and granted, some good stuff too. Lots of it, actually. Perhaps a little slow on the uptake, regarding blogging and that vast social reality dubbed the blogosphere. This is where is is missing the main point, I believe.
Or blogging could represent advertising's best hope. Pay a few popular bloggers to mention how great WhizBang Widgets are and forget about all those people who can recognize an ad.
Oh. So I see. It's about the integrity of the newsroom, and the wall of separation between the ad department and the "serious" news. Were it only true! But fact is, most bloggers do it for free. Like that feller in Joni Mitchell's song. And although many are, admittedly banal, adolescent, even jaded...there are many more examples of the same in the printed world...and there are many blogs that would bury the Observer in the sheer quality and quality of information provided. Group blogs, for example cover a much vaster array of political matters, and with much greater depth.
Or it could usher in a new era of misinformation. What happens when the unskilled-and-unaware-of-it crowd corners the blog market?
The unskilled-and-unaware-of-it crowd haven't the wherewithal to pull such a thing off.
Or blogging could mean 8 million people talking and nobody listening. One town square, 8 million soapboxes, no ears.
Too late. John needs to marinate in the culture for a while before writing about it, methinks. If he had done so, he would already know that the above scenario is not going to happen. In fact, were he to put forth a little effort, he might find himself being the Ed Cone of Charlotte. But it seems unlikely at this point.
Or maybe blogging will mean all of this. Or none of this. I stink at predictions and pronouncements, and I know I stink. But you should see me Google.
John McBride
Blogging already IS. And it doesn't reflect well on the Observer that they would release something so unresearched. It's almost as if they are biased against blogging. And if this is, indeed, the case...they are the big losers. Not the bloggers. Bloggers will do fine with or without them.
John. You're a smart guy. Come to Chapel Hill. Shoot! Krantz came to Greensboro! Dave Winer is going to be there. Ed Cone and Dan Gillmor is going to be there. Jay Rosen will be there, only in spirit. In fact over a hundred bloggers will also be there, and many of them are just as bright, if not brighter, than you or me.
Help bring Charlotte up, and into the future. Don't be such a Luddite! You aren't one!
Help John by sharing your wisest blogs with him. And be nice. He really is a swell fellow.
jmcbride@charlotteobserver.com
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Greensboro: The Seminal Event
Reprinted from 8/04
THE LEGEND OF THE PIEDMONT BLOGGERS
as told to Anonymoses Hyperlincoln III
Once upon a time, there existed a man, and the man was a cone. But not that kind of cone. He was a Cone. And this was, decidedly, a good thing, for tis better to be a surname than to live in Surinam, and both are far better than being a shape...unless, that is, that shape is not unlike that possessed of your humble narrator and guide, Anonymoses the Archon.
as told to Anonymoses Hyperlincoln III
Once upon a time, there existed a man, and the man was a cone. But not that kind of cone. He was a Cone. And this was, decidedly, a good thing, for tis better to be a surname than to live in Surinam, and both are far better than being a shape...unless, that is, that shape is not unlike that possessed of your humble narrator and guide, Anonymoses the Archon.
At any rate, this good Mister Cone was talking to a good mister David Hoggard, and it occurred in their joint mind, that Buberian I-thouness that transcends time and space, to, maybe, create a happening, yes, and one centered around blogging, and bloggers, as they had suddenly become the stewards into whose hands the fate of the world had been entrusted...strange though it may seem at first.
And sure as eggs is eggs, their vision became reality, and their reality drew crafty and deipnosophical blogsmiths from throughout the land...which of course ends at Virginia, South Carolina and Tennessee. Some carpooled from our beloved capital, Raleigh, wherefrom my own grandparents hailed. Others came from that great center of culture, and home to America's first public university, Chapel Hill. And yet others came from lowly Charlotte, home of NASCAR and ketchup consumption*.
Most, however, came from their beloved Greensboro...named for collard greens, since everyone there ate them with great relish and sound. Well, let me amend that to read, "pretty good relish". I never really understood why it should be cooked with pork parts. Probly goes back to Isaac or sump'm. Hell, ask them! I'm from Charlotte! We got Wendy's!
And speaking of "got Wendy's", I got wind the other day that the mighty Piedmont Bloggers were taking their show on tour, and that they were, in essence, a new model for society, partly based on the knowledge gained at Black Mountain College, but coupled with all that the Internet can bring to bear upon the issues confronting bipeds in Bushworld.
There is even talk of a radio and television network, along with movies, broadway shows, the Beijing Opera, Dai Rakuda Kan, Live from the Roof of the White House, and other marvelous venues, but need we have anything to do with them? No. So why do I bring them up?
Now, you know that if I tell you, I will also have to sell you an automobile. Oh you do! Good!
Well, I will tell you why I bring it up, but not until the fifthteenth chapter, by which time you will have completely lost interest, and the fact that I write it in Hittite makes it all the less likely that you'll find out that, indeed, I have forgotten why I brought this up. Product-placement, maybe. Or maybe the Armagnac. These things are yet to be discovered.
So yes, Piedmont Bloggers. Who were they again, Margie? Oh yeah. Archons of the Blogosphere. Big phucking deal. Bet ya caint say that on ABCNNBCBS!
No, Jethro. I cannot. And I'd rather YOU didn't either. Besides, I haven't told the good folks who have had the karma (I shant make value judgements!) to be reading these words of wisdom, that Collardboro, rather greensboro, (oops! should I capitalize upon the moment?) is the erstwhither home of one William Sydney Porter, if my memory joins me, or better known as the candybar, Oh Henry! ... and where a lot of people spilt blood during the Revolutionary War.
Now some time in between the two, this Porter feller goes and changes his name to "O. Henry" of all thangs, and proceeds to write some of the most clever and beloved stories in America's history. And he was from this great city where the initial meeting of the great Piedmont Bloggers held their meeting of the minds. And just look around at the results!
Heaven on Earth. And you thought it couldn't be done. Not in your lifetime. Not in your lazy, couch-potato, good-for-nothing lifetime. But there it is! And you cannot doubt your eyes. Or your president. Not since the Ashcroft Dictates were handed down.
"Ah! 'The New Dictation!'. Haven't had time to absorb that one, yet, Sahib."
So why bring it up? Again. Chapter 15.
CHAPTER 2
And then it happened...
It was a warm Saturday August morning in Greensboro, North Carolina, and the sun was shining. Shiny, happy people gathered in an art museum and began sharing ideas, bagels and coffee.
Greeting each Piedmont Blogger as they entered the Sanctum Sanctorum, was Mister Cone, himself, looking much more awake than I felt, and a good deal younger and more sprightly than in his online portrait. David Duchovny with a beard, maybe. At any rate, he made everyone feel welcome, thus facilitating further introductions and conversations that seemed to not want to end...so it was eventually carried down the street and into a Thai restaurant on the groovy Tate Street...on which the author once lived lo those many years ago, and also where the blog conference was held. Do I hear the Twilight Zone theme?
No. It was actually Pictures of Matchstick Men. Very similar though!
And so it was that the brave Piedmond Bloggers forced their way into the mind of Anonymoses.
Chapter 3
So who were these other characters? You've only mentioned a few names. What are you, stupid?
To answer that question, I have devised a series of self-guided self-observational meditations, based on the poetry of Rumi and Spacius, only translated into Cobol, then back into Tocharian B, then transliterated into math symbols read by Steven Hawking. Well, not really, but I could! Instead, I turned to resident blogger-poet, Billy Jones, who was the master of virtual ceremonies. His skill set includes the ability to expand the size of a blog ten thousand fold. And he does it with his hands. Quite remarkable really, when you consider that in just one day, his productivity was 600,000%. And this is why he is not a lackbeard.
Chapter 4
Legend has it that Matt Gross had come down from blogger heaven to add gravitas, wit and guidance to the celebration, and I, for one, want to corroborate that would-be urban legend. And he was not only there, he was trustworthy, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, cheerful, brave, and clean.
Matt was the man who is largely responsible for Howard Dean's meteoric rise early on, when no one thought he had a chance in Hell. And now he is helping to shape Erskine Bowles' campaign into a winning campaign. Matt has had a bright past, and is sure to have an even brighter future. I guarantee it.
Also adding gravitas to what was quickformed in weeks, and not in exotic Palo Alto, where BloggerCon III was to transpire at the lovely Stanford campus, or in the ancient halls of Harvard, two places known for attracting blognoscenti and the bloggerati, but rather in a mid-sized city in North Carolina which, although relatively unknown, promises to not always be so --and I smell victory -- was the great legend, Jerry Whatsisname? Just kidding! The one and only Jerry Bledsoe, author of many a 5-star book, and delighter and instructor of Carolinians far and wide, with his journalistic contributions.
And adding not gravitas, but a sort of levitogravitas, or gravitolevity, although properly called jocoseriosity, was the inevitable AND inimitable Bradford von Krantzenstein, or Brad Krantz for Bermuda short. And Mister Krantz was not long before he dropped the proverbial stinkbomb by insinuating that writing is not of worth if it not sold. But Mister Krantz perhaps deliberately left out the fact that a gift when converted into a commodity renders the bearer of the gift susceptible to losing that gift. Or as Schopenhouer warned, "writing for money has spelled the death of literature." But of course, the risible Mister Krantz was being his rascal self, and, his nudging was fuel for the group to rachet it up a notch. So we thank him for doing what he does best...get people to thinking. This is why he is one of the Legends of which I report.
Chapter 5
Two legends that didn't make it, and may not have even known about the Conference, since they didn't get my email in time, are Charlotte talk show host, Mike Collins, and the lovely producer of the show, Wendy Braatz...both of whom I only just met today, the day after the Convention, because they had an Open House at the WFAE studios, which bring such great things to Charlotte as "Charlotte Talks" and NPR. I had the added pleasure of hearing Michael Reno Harrell, who was entertaining the guests, and who graced me with the great ballad, "The Nickle", about a girl from Syracuse who comes South.
Mister Edward Cone might like to know that Mister Collins is not unlike Mister Christopher Lydon, whose respectable work he is already familiar, since he was once a guest on his A-list rolodex watch. No wait. Something like that, or suckmycat, if you are from the deep south.
Anyway, I told Mike and Wendy that I was going to convince them to interview Mister Cone, if he would be so kind, and maybe Misters Gross or Hoggard, should their hands not already be full -- not assuming, mind, that Mister Cone's hands are idle. Of course they are not, so lay off! It's just that he was the host of the most recent conference (unconference), and has the added advantage of having been interviewed before. Not that the others haven't mind. Oh, never mind!
Chapter 6
Among the blognoscenti was the good and young man, Jay Ovittore, who had to bear my calling him Joe, but whose forebearance was a deep well indeed. One of the younger Legends, Joe said to Anonymoses during post-prandial chit-chit that he had no interest in selling his ideas, but rather wanted to give them freely. Will this limit his abilities? I don't think so. And neither did (referring back to a previous conversation) Mister Cone or Ms Sinreich, both of whom actual do sell some of their work, but, because of their magnanimity, are not in fear of losing it.
Such magnanimity should be the coin of the realm, especially in the world of politics...which too often corrupts into just another way for someone to boost their wealth or power. But, as Lin Yu Tang, from his perch created by having been the only Chinese Nobel Prize winner, tells us: People are largely motivated by fear. The desire for wealth is but a fear of poverty. The desire for power is but a fear of impotence. The desire for Fame is but a fear of obscurity. And the desire for "Success" is but a combination of the three other fears...and a fear of failure therewith.
But Piedmont Blogger-politicians are not like this. They are fearless bodhisattvas guided by love and caring. Among the fearless bodhisattvas were Sally Greene, Jeff Thigpen, Mike Barber, Kirk Perkins, and Don Vaughan. But, as Gerry Goulder of Guilford GOP News, who is also a mighty Piedmont Blogger, points out:
Republicans are losing on the Internet. I attended the Piedmont Bloggers Conference this weekend. I may have been the only Republican political blogger present. Many local Democrat politicians were present, and they introduced me to a plethora of Democrat blogger web sites...Blogs increase participation, build a community, extend beyond campaign season, and build a strong bond between office holders/candidates and the voting public.
To fix the problem, all that need be done is to shut down blogs and the internet. Either that, or open it up to all people, and encourage and facilitate its use. At least that's what my plumber tells me. And he has a master's degree. In Science.
Monday, December 13, 2004
Paying it Forward...in Charlotte
Charlotte Observer journalist, David Perlmutt, has a series called "Paying it Forward", where he solicits example of people who do not pay a good deed back...they pay it forward.
This is based on the true story of a young lad who had come up with the idea of returning good deeds NOT to the person to whom it may be thought to be owed, but rather to three other people. And there are some criteria involved, like: the person must need the help.
There is an excellent movie on it, called "Pay it Forward", and which stars the new Bobby Darin, Kevin Spacey. The boy is played by that feller who can see dead people, and whose name does not end in Culkin. Although a sad movie, it is also redolent with meaning, and has sense spawned a movement.
HERE is today's offering by Mr. Perlmutt. And HERE is the Pay it Forward Foundation's website. For more info on the movie, see HERE.
In today's Charlotte Observer, a gentleman from Harrisburg wrote the forum and said:
Thanks for examples of `Paying It Forward'
I have really enjoyed the "Paying It Forward" series. With everything that is going on in the world today, it is wonderful to hear about such unselfish acts of kindness. This series stands apart from the rest of the news in that it offers a hopeful and positive perspective on the human condition.Thanks for taking the time and space to publish this series, and I hope to see more. Others are bound to be inspired by the acts of generosity that the Charlotte Observer has covered. My hope is that this will contribute to additional examples where local citizens find ways to "Pay It Forward." I know I hope to.
Steve Strother
Have a Story?
If you know of a good deed paid forward, reach David Perlmutt at (704) 358-5061 or dperlmutt@charlotteobserver.com or write him at The Charlotte Observer, 600 S. Tryon St., Charlotte, NC 28202. WHEN GOOD DEEDS MULTIPLY
Friday, December 10, 2004
Greensboro, NC: When John Lennon Was Killed
On the anniversary of John Lennon's tragic murder, we reflect on Greensboro: December 1980. The "Greensboro Massacre" is just one year old.
Lennon Era Comes to an end as the Reagan Era is born
Please also feel free to comment to the Observer about your own observations...
Lennon Era Comes to an end as the Reagan Era is born
On December 8, 1980 John Lennon died, killed by the bullet of a madman. It was the year Ronald Reagan became President of the United States. Hard to say which event brought more grief...
With the election of Reagan, suddenly there was a whole new breed of hominid strutting about, cocks-of-the-walk, in alligator shirts, lime slacks, hingeheads. The square was back, the 50s were once again upon us. And the hip world went back underground.
I was living in a house on Friendly Avenue right next to the greenway with David Grogan and Chuck Newman, and dating Lucy of Charlotte. She was talking classes at the university, whereas I was only auditing classes. Buddhism, Ballet and the Electronics Music lab. I was also helping Bil (sic) Poole entertain dance classes by playing piano, and occasionally other instruments. I can think of worse jobs.
Greensboro was a hub of creative and intellectual activity, just as it is now, only now it is centered around the illustrious embarrassment of riches, in the form of bloggers. And a good number of the remarkables were students and teachers at UNC-Greensboro, formerly a women's college. The predominance of women in the University area provided the proverbial seedbed for creative activity, and, as in all times when the world turns upside-down and mediocrity is given its turn, the creatives and progressives find one another and pour their suffering into more creative outlets.
John Jones was arguably the best host for serious gatherings. There, he and his friend, Maria Robbins, would host parties for Grogan, Newman, Lucy, Dayna, Chance, Eric, Jonathan Franzel, Fred and Stan, John Pope, and a few other worthies. John would cook up a mahvelous meal in his wok, and allow us to dig through his wondrous library of books and music. John got me up to speed on Brian Eno's "Oblique Strategies cards" in a van trip to Atlanta to see Genesis at the Fox Theatre, and his music was along that line of European avant-garde eclecticism, although he did have Americans Steve Reich and Phillip Glass among his collection. Everyone had the great Nonesuch offerings. Bil Poole was also an audiophile, and yet his collection was more heavily leaning toward the jazz side of the ECM label, where one could find folks like Jan Garbarek, Eberhard Weber , Egberto Gismonti, and even George I. Gurdjieff, who really wasn't all that jazzy. Speaking of Gurdjieff, Eric (I forget his last name) was reading Gurdjieff's "Beelzebub" at my prodding, and even read it the requisite 3 times. We were all probably a little to young and inexperienced to get much out of it, but it was a moment. What can I say?
I sat in on Paul Courtwright's Buddhism class, who, one day, packed into cars and drove to Duke University where Edward Said was speaking on Orientalism, after which Paul treated us to dinner at an Indian restaurant, where he taught us the proper form. It was my chance to see the beautiful Duke University, or Mister Said, who sadly died last year. And sadly, some in our circle have since died, namely John Pope and Fred. May their memories live on...
At night, we could often be found on Tate Street, at Rosewaters, New York Pizza, or Aycock...where such great performances as the Beijing Opera would play. Tashi, a wondrous ensemble with Ida Kafavian, Peter Serkin, Fred Sherry and Richard Stoltzman, came that year, and I can still hear the final strains of Messiaen's "Quartet for the End of Time" playing in my head. Local favorites were F-Art Ensemble and Glenn Phillips.
One of the fellers, and Lord help me with his name, started up a film class, which showed, among other things Bergman's "Persona", Renoir's "The Grand Illusion" and the avant-garde works of Stan VanDerBeek...who came and gave a talk.
While all this creative activity was going on, there were also seminars and discussions on the KKK-Communist "Greensboro Massacre", which has happened in Greensboro the previous year...strangely. Around the University one could hadly image even a fistfight. Rocky Horror, RocknRoll High School and the Life of Brian were more on the minds than violence.
It was a heady time. It was also the year that I found a big colorful oak tree on the campus, plopped down one fall day and read the whole of the Bhagavad-Gita. A day my life changed. Just like when Lennon died.
The morning John Lennon died, I was awakened to a decidedly 9/8 rhythm pattern, with which I immediately fell in love. Chuck was playing Dave Brubeck's "Blue Rondo a la Turk", and it was my first taste of 9/8. So my day started off with a musical theme. By nightfall music would have a very different role. It will die.
And so, as I painted the bare walls of my little room on Friendly Avenue, lost in reverie, smelling the curry onion eggs Grogan was cooking up, I heard the words come out over the radio..."John Lennon has been shot". And with news of his death, spontaneously, people gathered for a candlelight vigil at the University.
The Reagan era had begun. The Peacenik-in-chief had been silenced. No more giving peace a chance, it was a time for greed and mediocrity and John Wayne.
Within months I would pack my backs and move up to Cambridge, where a lot of other folks also found refuge from the brutal Godzilla.
Greensboro Today
Those days in Greensboro are still among my favorite, and I am so happy to once again connect to the city, through such creative souls as Ed Cone, David ("Get outta here!) Hoggard, Matt Gross and Billy the Blogging Poet, as well as the other great bloggers working there, including Ruby Sinreich, Dan Romuald, Jay Ovittore, Ross Myers, Tara Sue, and many other great folks.
I often wonder if any of the old gang of '80 and the bloggers of '04 know one another, as I know they would find kindred spirits. Or if any of the bloggers remember any of the events I have described. If so...please comment profusely!
Lastly, in today's Charlotte Observer, I wrote a graf on Greensboro and the blogosphere, which went like this:
View from blogosphere: Charlotte behind curve
Blogs are the cutting edge of democracy, giving everyone with access to a computer the ability to publish, free of charge and without space restrictions. "Blog" was also the most popular new word this year and is now to be found in major dictionaries.Greensboro and the Triangle seem to have a better grasp of blogging's importance than we do in Charlotte -- hosting conferences and tying in with newspapers and universities.
The Observer might do well to team up with local bloggers in order to help empower the community with this important new skill. North Carolina has a strong presence in the blogosphere, but it can be made stronger still. The best way to predict the future is to create it.
-Dave Beckwith
Please also feel free to comment to the Observer about your own observations...
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