"Finally, in nomination news, it seems that the Alberta-no-the-liberal-is-silent-Liberals are once again becoming a home for PCs who don't take losing in their own party so well.
Today, they announced that Debbie Cavaliere will run for them in Edmonton Meadowlark.
Aside from being a former Edmonton Catholic School Trustee, Ms. Cavaliere was also recently a contestant in the PC nomination for Edmonton Meadowlark. She was in the race right up until it became clear that there was no way she could sell enough memberships to win the race, at which point she quit.
Of course, the official spin is that she didn't find the party to her taste. Interesting. I wonder if she felt the same way when she was attending PC functions or door-knocking for former MLA Bob Maskell?
Amazing what a free ride to the ballot will make a person say, isn't it?
Ms. Cavaliere will face off against emergency physician Dr. Raj Sherman... the guy who sold enough memberships to win the race she quit.
The Edmonton Meadowlark race is an open one after one-term MLA Maurice Tougas decided that he'd rather be back writing his gossip column at the Edmonton Examiner."
Friday, November 23, 2007
alberta tory
Crossposted at AlbertaTory:
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
New Book on Peri-Menopause++
I've had a delightful email exchange with the author of The Perimenopause & Menopause Workbook. Kathryn Simpson and Dale Bredesen have written a great, informative book for women dealing with the challenges of hormones.
From out of balance estrogen and progesterone, to thyroid and adrenal imbalances, to discussions on bioidentical hormones, the book is very informative and reassuring. If you'd like to talk with the authors, drop Kathy Simpson an email at Info AT hormoneresource DOT com.
--
From out of balance estrogen and progesterone, to thyroid and adrenal imbalances, to discussions on bioidentical hormones, the book is very informative and reassuring. If you'd like to talk with the authors, drop Kathy Simpson an email at Info AT hormoneresource DOT com.
--
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Liquor License
The week in pop litter was painted in hope, desperation and folly.
Thank Sappho and her minions, then, for some good Lesbian intelligence.
As you know, I love news about Licker Licensees. First, we learn that local lez Portia di Rossi will soon go the growl with Joely Richardson on Nip/Tuck.
“I am a lesbian playing a lesbian,” she said in a radiant moment of self-awareness. Apparently, she and Ellen discussed the matter for some time and Portia realised that FINALLY it was time to stop HIDING her SEXUALITY.
Except, of course, that she hasn’t really. That’s one of only three things I know about her. The other two being (a) she was in that hateful program Ally McBeal and (b) according to an unreliable acquaintance, she’s a really good kisser.
And then, news surfaced that Pink might also be a hobbyist Muff Diva.
Do you care? Would it surprise you any more, than say, the SHOCK revelation that George Michael was gay? I don’t. And no it wouldn’t.
The thing that surprised me, erroneously as it turned out, is that she wed Corey Hart. Remember him? Sunglasses at Night?
This was from 1984 when, I imagine, a young Pink was yet to buy her first copy of Bodyweight Exercises for Buff Women.
There was no excuse at all for Corey Hart. I checked my vinyl to be sure. 1984 wasn’t a terrible year. In 1984 I bought The Go Betweens’ Spring Hill Fair, Lloyd Cole’s Rattlesnakes and Madonna’s Like a Virgin. I still listen to all of these records. No one listens to Corey’s woeful First Offense.
Some diligent googling reveals, however, that his name is Carey. Not Corey. And he rides motorbikes and sexually ambivalent popstars for a living. So, don’t be confusing them, ok?
Apart from this: britneyparislindsay. Couldn’t give a toss. Mais, J'attends novembre 25 quand je ne serai pas embarrassé pour être australienne. Vive le changement !
Thank Sappho and her minions, then, for some good Lesbian intelligence.
As you know, I love news about Licker Licensees. First, we learn that local lez Portia di Rossi will soon go the growl with Joely Richardson on Nip/Tuck.
“I am a lesbian playing a lesbian,” she said in a radiant moment of self-awareness. Apparently, she and Ellen discussed the matter for some time and Portia realised that FINALLY it was time to stop HIDING her SEXUALITY.
Except, of course, that she hasn’t really. That’s one of only three things I know about her. The other two being (a) she was in that hateful program Ally McBeal and (b) according to an unreliable acquaintance, she’s a really good kisser.
And then, news surfaced that Pink might also be a hobbyist Muff Diva.
Do you care? Would it surprise you any more, than say, the SHOCK revelation that George Michael was gay? I don’t. And no it wouldn’t.
The thing that surprised me, erroneously as it turned out, is that she wed Corey Hart. Remember him? Sunglasses at Night?
This was from 1984 when, I imagine, a young Pink was yet to buy her first copy of Bodyweight Exercises for Buff Women.
There was no excuse at all for Corey Hart. I checked my vinyl to be sure. 1984 wasn’t a terrible year. In 1984 I bought The Go Betweens’ Spring Hill Fair, Lloyd Cole’s Rattlesnakes and Madonna’s Like a Virgin. I still listen to all of these records. No one listens to Corey’s woeful First Offense.
Some diligent googling reveals, however, that his name is Carey. Not Corey. And he rides motorbikes and sexually ambivalent popstars for a living. So, don’t be confusing them, ok?
Apart from this: britneyparislindsay. Couldn’t give a toss. Mais, J'attends novembre 25 quand je ne serai pas embarrassé pour être australienne. Vive le changement !
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Hogwarts Kerfuffle
Ladeez:, puh-lease. Am I the only sister? Sup? In my efforts to keep this blog aloft -
Albus Dumbledore, wizard and avuncular defender of kiddies, is a Big Help to His Mum. Yes. The Hogwarts headmaster is, er, a head master.
Our source for this shocking intelligence is not, on this occasion, the pervie architects of Harry Potter fan fiction. It is in fact JK herself who chose to disclose Dumbledore’s preference for Deep House, tasteful lighting and cock.
When Rowling is not busy fashioning the kind of gaudy sentence that makes your authoress read like Hemingway by contrast, she’s Out There, apparently, sticking it to the man.
At New York City ’s Carnegie Hall a few weeks back, Joanne gave the fans the kind of minutiae they tend to eat up with a runcible spoon. Or, indeed, whatever the hell implement practitioners of the dark arts use to feed their unholy faces.
It seems, I’m told by my breeding colleagues, that JK’s info drip filter is emptied with great zeal. She could say, “Well, Snapes won’t sleep in anything but fretted linens. And he just loves the music of Spandau Ballet.” (Who doesn’t?)
Apparently, such mild revelations regularly afford a new lens for eager readers. It’s a harmless, job-creating fancy for all concerned. In this way, Rowling is much like a Cultural Studies Department.
However, I digress.
And so, it seems, do literally thousands of others. The last fortnight saw a relentless battery of headlines regarding this “story”. Wiki-reality has been transformed no less that 200 times in the last 24 hours. Bloggers, of course, are in a state.
“Why the hell should a children’s book have to include some idiotic political message?” asks one.
This incident will sell books. Maybe Rowling is not content to simply have more money that the Queen. Maybe she wants to actually purchase ER II as a mantelpiece ornament. Or, maybe she cares about The Gays.
Whatever her agenda, Rowling has now done much more than Out a fictional character. She’s given a whole lot of boring career pouffes something to crow about.
A gay spokesman told the BBC, “It's great that JK has said this. It shows that there's no limit to what gay and lesbian people can do, even being a wizard headmaster.”
And in news just to hand, Gay and Lesbian People have also earned the right to be thick and boring tw-ts. This is the sort of response that deters one from activism. (Well, that and laziness. And the chicks are rarely cute or well groomed.) This is why I turn a hostile shade whenever anyone calls me a Lesbian. Even when delivered respectfully, it is always capitalised and feels as though one has been awarded some kind of 25 metre muff-diving certificate.
As I'm sure you'll agree, enjoying sex is hardly a newsworthy achievement. Even for the founder of the Order of The Phoenix.
Albus Dumbledore, wizard and avuncular defender of kiddies, is a Big Help to His Mum. Yes. The Hogwarts headmaster is, er, a head master.
Our source for this shocking intelligence is not, on this occasion, the pervie architects of Harry Potter fan fiction. It is in fact JK herself who chose to disclose Dumbledore’s preference for Deep House, tasteful lighting and cock.
When Rowling is not busy fashioning the kind of gaudy sentence that makes your authoress read like Hemingway by contrast, she’s Out There, apparently, sticking it to the man.
At New York City ’s Carnegie Hall a few weeks back, Joanne gave the fans the kind of minutiae they tend to eat up with a runcible spoon. Or, indeed, whatever the hell implement practitioners of the dark arts use to feed their unholy faces.
It seems, I’m told by my breeding colleagues, that JK’s info drip filter is emptied with great zeal. She could say, “Well, Snapes won’t sleep in anything but fretted linens. And he just loves the music of Spandau Ballet.” (Who doesn’t?)
Apparently, such mild revelations regularly afford a new lens for eager readers. It’s a harmless, job-creating fancy for all concerned. In this way, Rowling is much like a Cultural Studies Department.
However, I digress.
And so, it seems, do literally thousands of others. The last fortnight saw a relentless battery of headlines regarding this “story”. Wiki-reality has been transformed no less that 200 times in the last 24 hours. Bloggers, of course, are in a state.
“Why the hell should a children’s book have to include some idiotic political message?” asks one.
This incident will sell books. Maybe Rowling is not content to simply have more money that the Queen. Maybe she wants to actually purchase ER II as a mantelpiece ornament. Or, maybe she cares about The Gays.
Whatever her agenda, Rowling has now done much more than Out a fictional character. She’s given a whole lot of boring career pouffes something to crow about.
A gay spokesman told the BBC, “It's great that JK has said this. It shows that there's no limit to what gay and lesbian people can do, even being a wizard headmaster.”
And in news just to hand, Gay and Lesbian People have also earned the right to be thick and boring tw-ts. This is the sort of response that deters one from activism. (Well, that and laziness. And the chicks are rarely cute or well groomed.) This is why I turn a hostile shade whenever anyone calls me a Lesbian. Even when delivered respectfully, it is always capitalised and feels as though one has been awarded some kind of 25 metre muff-diving certificate.
As I'm sure you'll agree, enjoying sex is hardly a newsworthy achievement. Even for the founder of the Order of The Phoenix.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Slap Happy
Close your eyes. Assemble a brief register of Sexy Cynosures who need a Slapping. And now dare to tell me that Natalie Portman is not at the top of your list.
I have long despised Portman. Even more that I despise erstwhile hottie Scarlett Johansson for enrolling in Spin Class thereby losing her plush décolleté. (Damn you, Scarlett, and your inscrutable fondness for honing your assets. Once, you looked like Brigitte Bardot’s clever younger sister. And now, you look like Princess Anne.)
She’s just SO falsely uncontaminated. I imagine her cupping her ideal breasts in her perfect hands each morning and mouthing the words “You’re so much nicer than all those dirty girls” into her Lalique looking glass.
But, to paraphrase the great D Bowie, I got problems.
These problems, however, are not strewn about the marketplace so lavishly as hers. Portman, whose greatest role remains a cameo in exquisite shambles Zoolander, has made a new film. And if this news alone does not suffice to destroy your day, behold, the Princess Chagrin.
Apparently, she got her kit off in a new Wes Anderson short. (You know him. Plonker who keeps ripping off old John Irving plotlines re the Dysfunctional Underbelly of American Families. Tenenbaums. Snore. Bill Murray in a wetsuit. Snore.) Apparently, she regrets it.
Sometimes, says Natalie, “the most powerful thing you can do is say no.”
And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do to promote a puffed-up short film made by a middling auteur is to tell everyone you’re NEKKID in it.
I shall not convey the link to the mildly p-rnographic entertainment here as I believe it is every woman’s duty to locate her own smut. However, rest assured, if the remit of your filthy id extends to Portman, you can find her out-of-context and out-of-clothes on teh interwebs. You don’t need to queue at a dreary film festival.
I have long despised Portman. Even more that I despise erstwhile hottie Scarlett Johansson for enrolling in Spin Class thereby losing her plush décolleté. (Damn you, Scarlett, and your inscrutable fondness for honing your assets. Once, you looked like Brigitte Bardot’s clever younger sister. And now, you look like Princess Anne.)
She’s just SO falsely uncontaminated. I imagine her cupping her ideal breasts in her perfect hands each morning and mouthing the words “You’re so much nicer than all those dirty girls” into her Lalique looking glass.
But, to paraphrase the great D Bowie, I got problems.
These problems, however, are not strewn about the marketplace so lavishly as hers. Portman, whose greatest role remains a cameo in exquisite shambles Zoolander, has made a new film. And if this news alone does not suffice to destroy your day, behold, the Princess Chagrin.
Apparently, she got her kit off in a new Wes Anderson short. (You know him. Plonker who keeps ripping off old John Irving plotlines re the Dysfunctional Underbelly of American Families. Tenenbaums. Snore. Bill Murray in a wetsuit. Snore.) Apparently, she regrets it.
Sometimes, says Natalie, “the most powerful thing you can do is say no.”
And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do to promote a puffed-up short film made by a middling auteur is to tell everyone you’re NEKKID in it.
I shall not convey the link to the mildly p-rnographic entertainment here as I believe it is every woman’s duty to locate her own smut. However, rest assured, if the remit of your filthy id extends to Portman, you can find her out-of-context and out-of-clothes on teh interwebs. You don’t need to queue at a dreary film festival.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Taking Out the Trash
Pitching one’s self into the whiffy mud of the populaire is, as you know, giddy fun.
And, let it be said, this week there are plot points of satisfactory quality INCLUDING a Britney Bad Mommy reprise.
However, it is with a leaden heart I offer a week’s digest of important debris. For I learned that we have all missed International Talk Like a Pirate Day. By an entire month.
There are few occasions not improved by means of a poor West Country accent. Next year, when my handicap is hovering at something below a parlous 89, I hope to be able to say,
“I made paaarrrrrr.”
Or, perhaps I could say to the peculiarly talented Amy Winehouse,
“You look terrible, east some Caaarrrrrbs.”
If you’ve not heard of this tabloid treasure, she’s a little like Courtney Love. Albeit with a far greater (a) faculty for substance abuse and (b) talent.
Recently dropped by 007 producers as the author of the next Bond theme song, the out-and-proud bulimic lost no time in getting herself arrested. In tolerant Norway, of all places.
Brava, La Spears. In a visual economy crowded with badly behaved young women, you again wail like a wanton diva. This Callas of crack must have done something awful. Perhaps she has become a public virtuoso on her flesh mandolin. Perhaps, under the influence of scrutiny or smack, she humped a fire hydrant. I dunno, do you expect me to read all this stuff?
I’ve been reading Ulysses for the last EIGHTEEN YEARS, so why should I endure anything more than the gist of this nonsense?
Anyhoo, the Los Angeles Superior Court has suspended the mother’s rights to visitation. Which is sad. Of course.
However, we must remember that Britney is a carbon metaphor for the profligate United States and not an actual person.
She’s not real.
If you don’t believe me, skype her and ask her to repeat Descartes’ dictum.
Which, of course, you’ll recall is
Cogito AAAARRGO Sum
Only another eleven months until International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
And, let it be said, this week there are plot points of satisfactory quality INCLUDING a Britney Bad Mommy reprise.
However, it is with a leaden heart I offer a week’s digest of important debris. For I learned that we have all missed International Talk Like a Pirate Day. By an entire month.
There are few occasions not improved by means of a poor West Country accent. Next year, when my handicap is hovering at something below a parlous 89, I hope to be able to say,
“I made paaarrrrrr.”
Or, perhaps I could say to the peculiarly talented Amy Winehouse,
“You look terrible, east some Caaarrrrrbs.”
If you’ve not heard of this tabloid treasure, she’s a little like Courtney Love. Albeit with a far greater (a) faculty for substance abuse and (b) talent.
Recently dropped by 007 producers as the author of the next Bond theme song, the out-and-proud bulimic lost no time in getting herself arrested. In tolerant Norway, of all places.
Brava, La Spears. In a visual economy crowded with badly behaved young women, you again wail like a wanton diva. This Callas of crack must have done something awful. Perhaps she has become a public virtuoso on her flesh mandolin. Perhaps, under the influence of scrutiny or smack, she humped a fire hydrant. I dunno, do you expect me to read all this stuff?
I’ve been reading Ulysses for the last EIGHTEEN YEARS, so why should I endure anything more than the gist of this nonsense?
Anyhoo, the Los Angeles Superior Court has suspended the mother’s rights to visitation. Which is sad. Of course.
However, we must remember that Britney is a carbon metaphor for the profligate United States and not an actual person.
She’s not real.
If you don’t believe me, skype her and ask her to repeat Descartes’ dictum.
Which, of course, you’ll recall is
Cogito AAAARRGO Sum
Only another eleven months until International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
How NOT to Market Tampons to Women
Okay, maybe you're not a woman. But you don't have to be a female rocket scientist to figure out that the advertising you've seen recently on T.V. for Tampax Cardboard (yes, you heard right) is a very dumb example of branding for many so reasons, two of them quite obvious:1) Tampax applicators have been cardboard for at least the 30 years I've been using them.
2) When I make my list of words that evoke feelings of comfort, absorption, and security, cardboard is way down at the bottom of that list.
I think Tampax might have gotten a clue that the new Cardboard campaign is going over like a lead brick (possibly the only material lower on my comfort list than cardboard).
If you look at the google cached images from the Tampax site, you'll see a couple product images with the new "cardboard" theme, and some images with the word cardboard. But when you click on them, the images magically transform to Tampax's Pearl branding (aaah, pearls).
Business should be wary when Great Marketing Minds invade the conference room suggesting that a re-branding or branding upgrade will help "move the needle" in terms of product sales.
Especially if they come in using the word "Cardboard."
---
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
OMGZ it happen.
AKMA begatz Shelley begatz the LOLcat Bible:
20Invisible Man say, “I can has fish n’ birdz.” 21Fish go in water, birdz go in sky. It good. 22Invisible Man say, “make lots little fish and little birdz. Fish make fish in water; birdz make birdz in air.” 23It get dark again, then lite: day fife.
24Invisible Man say, “I can has aminulz.” It happen. 25Invisible Man make kitteh n’ cowz n’ snakes n’ stuff. Iz good.
26Invisible Man say, “I can has man that look like me.” He rulez. 27Invisible Man make man like him, boy and gurl. 28Invisible Man tell man, “ur in mai Earth, pwnz0rz mai aminulz.” 29And u eats fruitz. 30Aminulz eat greenz.
31Invisible Man saws creayshunz: iz good. It get dark, then lite: day sicks.
;-)
---
20Invisible Man say, “I can has fish n’ birdz.” 21Fish go in water, birdz go in sky. It good. 22Invisible Man say, “make lots little fish and little birdz. Fish make fish in water; birdz make birdz in air.” 23It get dark again, then lite: day fife.
24Invisible Man say, “I can has aminulz.” It happen. 25Invisible Man make kitteh n’ cowz n’ snakes n’ stuff. Iz good.
26Invisible Man say, “I can has man that look like me.” He rulez. 27Invisible Man make man like him, boy and gurl. 28Invisible Man tell man, “ur in mai Earth, pwnz0rz mai aminulz.” 29And u eats fruitz. 30Aminulz eat greenz.
31Invisible Man saws creayshunz: iz good. It get dark, then lite: day sicks.
;-)
---
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Facebook - Child's Play?
Kara Swisher has a great post on the immature nature of Facebook apps. See, here's the thing: immature and silly is really fun at first because it's fun-ny at first. But once you've filled a few fake fish tanks, posted to a few groups, planted a few pretend gardens, and caught a few hot potatoes, you start wondering if you might be spending that time billing or planting real gardens with your kids.
Kara says she's done burning brainpower on whether or not to catch spuds:
I'm all for stupid things. Hell I sometimes AM the stupid thing. I can even manage some guilty giggles for an imaginative group name even when people around the world are dying. But there is something toddleresque about these kewl apps that feel very much like a child who does something cute, thereby eliciting uproarious laughter from his relatives, so then he keeps doing it until you're so sick of him that you want to toss him like a hot potato.
Kara asks: "...if that is all there is, can Facebook really build a viable and long-lasting business on what is essentially a bunch of games that will ultimately become wearying for users? Doesn’t it need more robust apps that actually are useful and relevant and make Facebook the service that Zuckerberg has often told me was a 'utility'?"
I believe with all my heart that play is the killer app of the Internet. So I'm all about the proliferation of just-for-fun widgets on Facebook. But I am also expecting more. I'm expecting to be able to accomplish as much on Facebook as I can on the net as a whole. I expect to be able to share and collaborate and engage and generate STUFF. Because the most productive form of playing is making stuff.
But a gazillion people can't be wrong - and Facebook is definitely the "in" social network. As much as I try to forget about Facebook and spend more time being productive, I do get pulled back in a few times a week.
After all, I have fish to send, Scobles to feed, and a garden to tend to.
---
Kara says she's done burning brainpower on whether or not to catch spuds:
She says she gets it. I think she does get it. I get it too. You get it, right?Right now on Facebook, I have been trying to decide what to do near on two weeks or more, after receiving a “Hot Potato” tossed to me by my old boss, Washington Post Co. CEO and Chairman Don Graham (oh, yes–his family also owns a key hunk of the legendary paper, too).
For those who don’t know what a digital Hot Potato is: It is a widget (also called a third-party app) created by a very nice-looking group of guys at a design outfit called Hungry Machine for the Facebook platform.
I'm all for stupid things. Hell I sometimes AM the stupid thing. I can even manage some guilty giggles for an imaginative group name even when people around the world are dying. But there is something toddleresque about these kewl apps that feel very much like a child who does something cute, thereby eliciting uproarious laughter from his relatives, so then he keeps doing it until you're so sick of him that you want to toss him like a hot potato.
Kara asks: "...if that is all there is, can Facebook really build a viable and long-lasting business on what is essentially a bunch of games that will ultimately become wearying for users? Doesn’t it need more robust apps that actually are useful and relevant and make Facebook the service that Zuckerberg has often told me was a 'utility'?"
I believe with all my heart that play is the killer app of the Internet. So I'm all about the proliferation of just-for-fun widgets on Facebook. But I am also expecting more. I'm expecting to be able to accomplish as much on Facebook as I can on the net as a whole. I expect to be able to share and collaborate and engage and generate STUFF. Because the most productive form of playing is making stuff.
But a gazillion people can't be wrong - and Facebook is definitely the "in" social network. As much as I try to forget about Facebook and spend more time being productive, I do get pulled back in a few times a week.
After all, I have fish to send, Scobles to feed, and a garden to tend to.
---
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
BodhiDance
Spiraling out,
I am the Earth.
Breathing in,
I sense Rebirth.
Letting go,
The All is gained.
Dancer disappears,
Only Dance Remains.
~ By Indigo Ocean
[Excerpted from BodhiDance article at Indigo's Currents of Mind weblog.
I am the Earth.
Breathing in,
I sense Rebirth.
Letting go,
The All is gained.
Dancer disappears,
Only Dance Remains.
~ By Indigo Ocean
[Excerpted from BodhiDance article at Indigo's Currents of Mind weblog.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
W Magical List of Women Bloggers!
Ladies, do not miss this post, and these wonderful links, and this great idea, that I learned about from Toby today. Go. Do. Build. Link.
Don't forget, Blog Sisters, to add yourselves!
Don't forget, Blog Sisters, to add yourselves!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Feminine guys better for long-term love: study
Feminine guys better for long-term love: study
I have to ask my sisters....
What is your take on these studies? Have any of YOU ever participated in them - do you think they really mean anything (scientifically or otherwise)?
I have to ask my sisters....
What is your take on these studies? Have any of YOU ever participated in them - do you think they really mean anything (scientifically or otherwise)?
Saturday, July 28, 2007
no old people zone - facebook
Ronni has an interesting post on FaceBook's non-action (despite terms of service violations) toward some nasty groups that are aimed at dissing and degrading elders or "old people." I would imagine as a popular social network that started out for college kids, then all of a sudden got interesting enough and good enough feature-wise to attract the rest of the Internet, FaceBook's original demographic colliding with their elders offers plenty of incentive for conflict.
All of a sudden we show up at their party--a party they were having as a way to get AWAY from us. We represent what some of these younger people are rebelling against--their parents, authority, anyone over 30. What better place for some to spew stuff they wouldn't dare aim at mom and dad who are paying for college than at their parental proxies on social networks? I say some, because my nephews and niece are on FaceBook and MySpace, and I see them honoring elders, not projectile vomiting at them.
As one commenter at Ronni's said, all of these kids will one day be old--that is unless they mouth off to the wrong person and don't make it past 23. Unfortunately, many of them will also remain stupid. I wonder how many are American kids? I wonder if primarily European social networks have similar hateful groups targeted at the elderly? Why do I doubt it?
Ronni is right that those groups are violating FaceBook's stated terms of service. I don't think leaving FaceBook is the best way to raise visibility--I think staying and representin' is a better way, but I certainly don't fault anyone who is bored enough or sick enough of the FaceBook thing for booking.
---
All of a sudden we show up at their party--a party they were having as a way to get AWAY from us. We represent what some of these younger people are rebelling against--their parents, authority, anyone over 30. What better place for some to spew stuff they wouldn't dare aim at mom and dad who are paying for college than at their parental proxies on social networks? I say some, because my nephews and niece are on FaceBook and MySpace, and I see them honoring elders, not projectile vomiting at them.
As one commenter at Ronni's said, all of these kids will one day be old--that is unless they mouth off to the wrong person and don't make it past 23. Unfortunately, many of them will also remain stupid. I wonder how many are American kids? I wonder if primarily European social networks have similar hateful groups targeted at the elderly? Why do I doubt it?
Ronni is right that those groups are violating FaceBook's stated terms of service. I don't think leaving FaceBook is the best way to raise visibility--I think staying and representin' is a better way, but I certainly don't fault anyone who is bored enough or sick enough of the FaceBook thing for booking.
---
Friday, July 27, 2007
Cat is 'Grim Reaper'
Cat is 'Grim Reaper'
Geez...
I can't get/find a single article that will admit Yoga helps patients from the NEJ - but this cat gets an article?????
Um...OK - that's medical science at its best I suppose...
Geez...
I can't get/find a single article that will admit Yoga helps patients from the NEJ - but this cat gets an article?????
Um...OK - that's medical science at its best I suppose...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
More Facebook: Are You Sure You Wish to Deactivate Your Account?
Yes, actually, I’m quite certain. I'm a loud angry woman and, generally speaking, I know what I would like.
Please Tell Us The Reason For Your Decision To Leave MySpace/Facebook/Orkut/The Hapless By-Product of Your Shirking Self-Regard.
Try as I might, I’m finding it difficult to enunciate. Although I have spent the last hour sweeping my social-networking residue from your sullied floors, I’m not sure I can pinpoint the reason. Something brought on this fit of emotional tidiness.
I couldn't say what.
Particularly as I am just the type to be seduced by such enticement. Give me an easy, uncensored forum for giddy text. Give me the opportunity to build a persona by arranging words, cultural objects and obscenity. I’ll devote hours to such onanism. I will.
Let me be clear: facebook provides little but unyielding fun, fascination and a locus to use adverbs like “pigfuckingly” to the delight of one’s peers. Many of the citizens who inhabit this realm are literate and compelling.
I (of all people) should love it. And love it fitfully for a spell I did.
After a frenzied few days of exchange, however, it seemed I had to commit facebook Seppuku. Either that or die of a slow egoistic consumption like a virtual Mary Shelley. Bits of my diseased respiratory system would fly out of my mouth as I obsessively egested *cough* the last few items in my facebook CD rack *sputter*.
I made a vow not to build myself entirely from the artefacts that surround me some months ago now. It seems I quite forgot and immersed myself utterly in the cultural field of someone else’s chilling software.
My accounts have been deleted and already I wonder how I shall know myself for the rest of the morning. This will be a day without a “wall” of comments to consult; without the record of my Alltime Favourite Bands (How complex am I, btw. Suicide, Eno and Candi Stanton?!); without a public gallery of photographs that make me look much more confident than I have any right to be.
So, that’s it. Until the next 2.0 diversion, I suppose.
I’m occupying this space as an orthodox old blogger and replaying the Top Down traditions into which I was born.
Please Tell Us The Reason For Your Decision To Leave MySpace/Facebook/Orkut/The Hapless By-Product of Your Shirking Self-Regard.
Try as I might, I’m finding it difficult to enunciate. Although I have spent the last hour sweeping my social-networking residue from your sullied floors, I’m not sure I can pinpoint the reason. Something brought on this fit of emotional tidiness.
I couldn't say what.
Particularly as I am just the type to be seduced by such enticement. Give me an easy, uncensored forum for giddy text. Give me the opportunity to build a persona by arranging words, cultural objects and obscenity. I’ll devote hours to such onanism. I will.
Let me be clear: facebook provides little but unyielding fun, fascination and a locus to use adverbs like “pigfuckingly” to the delight of one’s peers. Many of the citizens who inhabit this realm are literate and compelling.
I (of all people) should love it. And love it fitfully for a spell I did.
After a frenzied few days of exchange, however, it seemed I had to commit facebook Seppuku. Either that or die of a slow egoistic consumption like a virtual Mary Shelley. Bits of my diseased respiratory system would fly out of my mouth as I obsessively egested *cough* the last few items in my facebook CD rack *sputter*.
I made a vow not to build myself entirely from the artefacts that surround me some months ago now. It seems I quite forgot and immersed myself utterly in the cultural field of someone else’s chilling software.
My accounts have been deleted and already I wonder how I shall know myself for the rest of the morning. This will be a day without a “wall” of comments to consult; without the record of my Alltime Favourite Bands (How complex am I, btw. Suicide, Eno and Candi Stanton?!); without a public gallery of photographs that make me look much more confident than I have any right to be.
So, that’s it. Until the next 2.0 diversion, I suppose.
I’m occupying this space as an orthodox old blogger and replaying the Top Down traditions into which I was born.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Facebook - Right Name, Right Time
I know everyone is talking about Facebook, which is why I haven't jumped up and down too much over here. But the things that I'm finding interesting aren't what I see the Web 2.0 experts talking about.
What fascinates me is Susan.
The most real-world-impacting thing about facebook is its faces.
Because Jenna didn't have a cousin named Susan with a smile and a face and a camera phone two days ago, but now she does.
Low and behold, I start the Sessum facebook group and we find that Susan's father and George are first cousins, that Jenna and Susan share the same great-grandfather. And now Susan has put up family pictures and George is staring at faces of an Uncle he never knew -- but in his face he knows, you know? -- and looking into smiling eyes and onto etched hands that remember him forward into now.
That could not happen with the velocity with which it IS happening because of Facebook. It could not have happened with such speed and clarity in the vastness of the Internet through search.
It could not happen with blogging because WE -- George and I -- hog the "sessum" search results on google. The Sessums we sift through are ourselves. Are you talking about us and us talking about you. We would never find Susan or Michael or Fred through blogging, but we would never find them BECAUSE of blogging -- because blog results inundate Google search results.
It could not happen with MySpace because MySpaces's search capabilities have remained lackluster, despite press releases and claims to the contrary.
Similarly, with the Dimino group, with 20-some other facebookians -- two of whom are my nephews and one my niece -- we are finding one another: I am not only their aunt anymore - they are not only my brother's kids: we are creatives. From my family group I learned -- through a probable relative's grandmother about the long held belief that all Diminos come from the same village of Sicily, this fishing village.
From there, my imagination gives birth to stories. I am transported.
We are the social Web, family.
When we begin to participate on the Internet's intranets -- like FaceBook -- with others who say yes this is who I am and this is my face I'm on this book with you, then we find each other in new ways. And we become new to one another. And the new becomes familiar.
In groups, through play, the way the web has always worked, we meet and move forward and sideways and through together. We expand. We are evolving from hyperlinked-conversation-based relationships.
-----
What fascinates me is Susan.
The most real-world-impacting thing about facebook is its faces.
Because Jenna didn't have a cousin named Susan with a smile and a face and a camera phone two days ago, but now she does.
Low and behold, I start the Sessum facebook group and we find that Susan's father and George are first cousins, that Jenna and Susan share the same great-grandfather. And now Susan has put up family pictures and George is staring at faces of an Uncle he never knew -- but in his face he knows, you know? -- and looking into smiling eyes and onto etched hands that remember him forward into now.
That could not happen with the velocity with which it IS happening because of Facebook. It could not have happened with such speed and clarity in the vastness of the Internet through search.
It could not happen with blogging because WE -- George and I -- hog the "sessum" search results on google. The Sessums we sift through are ourselves. Are you talking about us and us talking about you. We would never find Susan or Michael or Fred through blogging, but we would never find them BECAUSE of blogging -- because blog results inundate Google search results.
It could not happen with MySpace because MySpaces's search capabilities have remained lackluster, despite press releases and claims to the contrary.
Similarly, with the Dimino group, with 20-some other facebookians -- two of whom are my nephews and one my niece -- we are finding one another: I am not only their aunt anymore - they are not only my brother's kids: we are creatives. From my family group I learned -- through a probable relative's grandmother about the long held belief that all Diminos come from the same village of Sicily, this fishing village.
From there, my imagination gives birth to stories. I am transported.
We are the social Web, family.
When we begin to participate on the Internet's intranets -- like FaceBook -- with others who say yes this is who I am and this is my face I'm on this book with you, then we find each other in new ways. And we become new to one another. And the new becomes familiar.
In groups, through play, the way the web has always worked, we meet and move forward and sideways and through together. We expand. We are evolving from hyperlinked-conversation-based relationships.
-----
Tags: Facebook, Social Media, Web 2.0, Internet, intranet, social networks, myspace, advertising, PR, Marketing, communication, business, everythingisfaces = Powered by Qumana
Monday, July 23, 2007
Spring Clean(ing)
Or should that title be, Summer Clean? Given that Spring came and went in a matter of weeks up here, in the wild north. Er, that's Canada to you, dear reader. But I digress, what I wanted to post about is the fact I finally went and bought a Domain name and have opened up shop, er, so to speak, at: KISSED BY VENUS.
Yes, rather suggestive, but it does dovetail neatly with my writing.
So here I am, waiting to be discovered like some lost laundry that's been lurking at the back of the tub for several days past too long. I leave it to you to rescue me from oblivion, or not.
I wonder, would someone care to switch off the lights when they leave?
Ta muchly!
Yes, rather suggestive, but it does dovetail neatly with my writing.
So here I am, waiting to be discovered like some lost laundry that's been lurking at the back of the tub for several days past too long. I leave it to you to rescue me from oblivion, or not.
I wonder, would someone care to switch off the lights when they leave?
Ta muchly!
An Oddcast
Well, again, things are silent.
So, I thought I would yell in my vile Australian accent and privilege speech over text, today. Possibly not a good idea. But here is my oddcast nonetheless. Contains profanity. And pretension. I'm afraid you will have to click if you wish to hear it.
So, I thought I would yell in my vile Australian accent and privilege speech over text, today. Possibly not a good idea. But here is my oddcast nonetheless. Contains profanity. And pretension. I'm afraid you will have to click if you wish to hear it.
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