The other day I was writing an e-mail to a friend of mine, ribbing him about his new 'working at home' gig, and during my bashing I wrote something along of lines of "oh yeah, all that (quotey fingers) WORK that you do, doing all that (quotey fingers) WORKING." We all know what 'quotey fingers' means, it's that two fingered gesture one makes when stressing a point in a sarcastic tone. The late George Carlin even listed individuals using this gesture as "people he could do without." Anyway, I was trying to be funny by actually spelling out quotey fingers instead of just putting the text in quotes like normal people do, the humor being that not only was it an extra 17 characters of typing rather than just hitting ", but it forced the visual image of me actually making the finger gesture, while reading it in text form. It was only after thinking about the whole thing in greater detail (because, well... that's just what I do) that I realized the real absurdity of the whole quotey fingers phenomenon. Consider this:
If one wanted to determine the origin of using quotes to sarcastically stress a point (if one was, say, really really bored), then one could argue it started as a verbal method of slowing down and stressing a word or phrase to suggest an opposite meaning. "Oh, yeah, they went back to his place for CAWFFEEEEEE" suggests they were not, in fact, drinking coffee. This evolved into quotation marks when in written form in order to stress the point: "...and afterwards I'm sure they "went to sleep"" implies no sleep was had.
Then, not convinced the sarcastic tone of the spoken word was enough, people started supplementing the tone with using their fingers to mimic quotation marks above their heads, placing virtual punctuation around the phrase needing emphasis, hoping that will drive home the bitter sarcasm they were trying to get across. What resulted was essentially a redundant gesture, because it came from a written translation of a particular way of speaking. It's no different than asking a question (complete with raising the pitch on the last syllable, the tonal cue of a query) and squiggling your hand around in the shape of a question mark at the end. Yeah, we get it, it's a question, the fact that your pitched changed at the end gave it away, we didn't need the visual.
And that, my friends, is where my humor comes in. Writing "quotey fingers", the spelling out of a hand gesture derived from the written punctuation referring to a tonal difference of a spoken phrase meant to display sarcasm, is damned funny to me.
Yeah, sometimes even I worry about myself.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Judge Giachettica: The Waiting Room incident
Wow, where has the time gone? I can't believe it's been almost 3 months since my last post; I blame it all solely on my bathroom project. Alright, I'm sure there were other factors as well, but it's just easier to say that lately all my time and money has been spent painting, flooring, caulking, nailing, and more painting in my bathroom. But it's almost done, the dust is beginning to settle, and I can finally get my head out of the glue and paint fumes and resume my duties as blogmaster. Today's entry deals with an encounter I had the other day in the waiting room of my allergist.
I consider myself a fair and just person. Occasionally I can let my emotions cloud my judgement and react without thinking through a scenario, but I believe fundamentally I have a good sense as to what's right and wrong. I was even almost... ALMOST... sad that I didn't get picked for jury duty when I got called in last month. As I grow older I've come to understand that resolving conflicts are almost never as simple as "he's right/he's wrong", but more about determining who's MORE right and/or MORE wrong. And the hardest conflicts to deal with, of course, are the ones where fair and just people look at both sides and say, "well, they BOTH have equally valid points, neither is more right or wrong than the other." Hence my little internal dilemma when the following example played out.
NOTE: The following descriptions are meant to paint a picture of the people and events that transpired, and are not meant to lead readers to prejudge or support either side.
A few weeks back, I was sitting in the waiting room of my allergist waiting to be called in for my weekly shots. There were a few other people in the room waiting for their turn as well; among them was a man appearing to be in his late 50's, with long white hair, beard and wearing I believe a leather vest, or something that looked like biker-wear. (we'll call him 'hippy biker' for lack of a better term) and a somewhat heavy-set black man in his early 40's talking on his cell phone (designated 'phone guy'). Now phone guy was talking away, but not particularly loud, and not at all offensively, but he was talking, despite the sign on the front door of the office that requested cell phones not be used. I didn't particularly care, having tuned him out and gone off into my own little world. Hippy biker, however, was not as passive, and asked in a not-so-completely-innocuous tone, "Excuse me, could you take your call outside?" My ears perked up... spidey senses tingling, I felt a sudden rise in tension. Phone guy just kind of stared at him for a moment, obviously dumfounded by the request. He asked again, "Could you take your call outside, it's very annoying". Phone guy stared some more, then simply replied, "You go outside." Hippy biker went on to explain how rude it was for people to talk on their cell phones in public (I assume he meant in close quarters, like buses, waiting rooms, etc.), phone guy responded by saying he didn't care, which was met by a very sarcastic "You're very considerate, thanks, very considerate." Some more words were exchanged, including phone guy addressing Hippy biker as "boy", then he was called in for his appointment. Now I really don't like confrontation and usually don't get myself involved, but my body was all stiffened up with adrenaline, because halfway through I decided if this escalated to blows I might need to intervene, and it looked like it might. With the danger now passed, I was left with several thoughts and questions in my head. Who did I think was right and wrong here? How would I have reacted had it been me on the phone? Would my knee-jerk reaction have been the same as a more thought-out analysis of the situation? As an exercise I'd like you to form your own opinion before reading on to my judgement. I'll wait.
OK, as I see it, on the one side you have hippy biker, who has his own opinions and ideals, and one of them is talking on a cell phone so everyone hears a one-sided conversation is rude and obnoxious. OK, I can see that. He has a right to speak up about something that is really bothering him, and I kind of admire someone who would stand up for himself and/or others. It IS kind of annoying to hear someone chatting to an unheard party, and technically he IS in the right, since there was a sign on the door asking people to refrain from phone use. One the other hand you have phone guy simply talking on the phone, not really bothering anyone (not me anyway, I can't speak for the others in the waiting room), and minding his own business. So who's right? It always gets a little sticky when you're talking about people's rights, because the term 'rights' is so broad and covers so much terrain, they're bound to intersect and conflict. Let's quickly take another example, smokers vs. non-smokers. Smokers have a right to poison their own body, and enjoy whatever vices they want; and non-smokers have a right to breathe clean air, and not have their environment stink of smoke. But it's a bit easier to decide right and wrong in this argument because of health concerns and quality of life issues, and the government seems to agree, siding with the non-smokers more often than not (which is perfectly fine by me). In the cell phone case, it's more abstract; yes it could still be considered a quality of life issue, but it's alot more subjective. I can just as easily say that two people talking in the waiting room annoys me, but should they stop? What makes ME more entitled to my rights than they to theirs? And I think that was the struggle I was having with this confrontation; to say either one of them is right is to admit that they have more of a right to their opinion than the other guy; that somehow they're better or more important. And I have a real problem with people thinking they're better than others, or worse yet acting on it. So if you're ready, here is my final verdict.
Society has deemed using a cell phone in public the 21st century equivalent of walking into a restaurant with no shirt and no shoes; if you're talking on a cell phone, you're considered rude and inconsiderate to those around you. Personally I find it mildly annoying, but nothing to make a big deal about, and certainly not something to cause a scene over. In my opinion it was much more rude to bother someone who's on the phone and request that he take his conversation outside, where he may miss his name being called for the doctor. From my perspective it certainly was much more annoying. Cell phones are part of life; they're here and not going away. While it would have been nice if phone guy initially made his call outside, I don't think Hippie Biker had more of a right to ask him to leave, especially since he was not being offensive or loud. I therefore rule in favor of Phone guy. Court adjourned.
Addendum: I'm starting to believe this tendency to bash, criticize and mock cell phone users is getting more annoying than the actual deed, especially when it comes from hippocrites. Between starting and finishing this entry I found myself in a pizza shop waiting for my food, and as I waited I spotted a sign next to the counter, "We'll be happy to help you once you're off your cell phone!" This by itself I thought was incredibly arrogant, as if being on the phone was akin to changing a baby's diaper on the counter. But what really got me was after reading the sign, I immediately looked over at the guy behind the counter (who I happen to know is the owner) and lo and behold, he's on his goddamned phone! I actually witnessed him take no less than three orders while on the phone; now granted he had one of those robotic bluetooth earpiece thingies, but what the hell?? How is it the guy who's taking my order, giving me change and preparing my food feels it's ok to be distracted and talk in front of his customers, but holy HELL is it wrong to make him wait a half a second to decide whether I want extra cheese because I'm asking my friend on the phone! I almost wished Hippie Biker was there to rip the sign off the wall and shove it down his throat...
I consider myself a fair and just person. Occasionally I can let my emotions cloud my judgement and react without thinking through a scenario, but I believe fundamentally I have a good sense as to what's right and wrong. I was even almost... ALMOST... sad that I didn't get picked for jury duty when I got called in last month. As I grow older I've come to understand that resolving conflicts are almost never as simple as "he's right/he's wrong", but more about determining who's MORE right and/or MORE wrong. And the hardest conflicts to deal with, of course, are the ones where fair and just people look at both sides and say, "well, they BOTH have equally valid points, neither is more right or wrong than the other." Hence my little internal dilemma when the following example played out.
NOTE: The following descriptions are meant to paint a picture of the people and events that transpired, and are not meant to lead readers to prejudge or support either side.
A few weeks back, I was sitting in the waiting room of my allergist waiting to be called in for my weekly shots. There were a few other people in the room waiting for their turn as well; among them was a man appearing to be in his late 50's, with long white hair, beard and wearing I believe a leather vest, or something that looked like biker-wear. (we'll call him 'hippy biker' for lack of a better term) and a somewhat heavy-set black man in his early 40's talking on his cell phone (designated 'phone guy'). Now phone guy was talking away, but not particularly loud, and not at all offensively, but he was talking, despite the sign on the front door of the office that requested cell phones not be used. I didn't particularly care, having tuned him out and gone off into my own little world. Hippy biker, however, was not as passive, and asked in a not-so-completely-innocuous tone, "Excuse me, could you take your call outside?" My ears perked up... spidey senses tingling, I felt a sudden rise in tension. Phone guy just kind of stared at him for a moment, obviously dumfounded by the request. He asked again, "Could you take your call outside, it's very annoying". Phone guy stared some more, then simply replied, "You go outside." Hippy biker went on to explain how rude it was for people to talk on their cell phones in public (I assume he meant in close quarters, like buses, waiting rooms, etc.), phone guy responded by saying he didn't care, which was met by a very sarcastic "You're very considerate, thanks, very considerate." Some more words were exchanged, including phone guy addressing Hippy biker as "boy", then he was called in for his appointment. Now I really don't like confrontation and usually don't get myself involved, but my body was all stiffened up with adrenaline, because halfway through I decided if this escalated to blows I might need to intervene, and it looked like it might. With the danger now passed, I was left with several thoughts and questions in my head. Who did I think was right and wrong here? How would I have reacted had it been me on the phone? Would my knee-jerk reaction have been the same as a more thought-out analysis of the situation? As an exercise I'd like you to form your own opinion before reading on to my judgement. I'll wait.
OK, as I see it, on the one side you have hippy biker, who has his own opinions and ideals, and one of them is talking on a cell phone so everyone hears a one-sided conversation is rude and obnoxious. OK, I can see that. He has a right to speak up about something that is really bothering him, and I kind of admire someone who would stand up for himself and/or others. It IS kind of annoying to hear someone chatting to an unheard party, and technically he IS in the right, since there was a sign on the door asking people to refrain from phone use. One the other hand you have phone guy simply talking on the phone, not really bothering anyone (not me anyway, I can't speak for the others in the waiting room), and minding his own business. So who's right? It always gets a little sticky when you're talking about people's rights, because the term 'rights' is so broad and covers so much terrain, they're bound to intersect and conflict. Let's quickly take another example, smokers vs. non-smokers. Smokers have a right to poison their own body, and enjoy whatever vices they want; and non-smokers have a right to breathe clean air, and not have their environment stink of smoke. But it's a bit easier to decide right and wrong in this argument because of health concerns and quality of life issues, and the government seems to agree, siding with the non-smokers more often than not (which is perfectly fine by me). In the cell phone case, it's more abstract; yes it could still be considered a quality of life issue, but it's alot more subjective. I can just as easily say that two people talking in the waiting room annoys me, but should they stop? What makes ME more entitled to my rights than they to theirs? And I think that was the struggle I was having with this confrontation; to say either one of them is right is to admit that they have more of a right to their opinion than the other guy; that somehow they're better or more important. And I have a real problem with people thinking they're better than others, or worse yet acting on it. So if you're ready, here is my final verdict.
Society has deemed using a cell phone in public the 21st century equivalent of walking into a restaurant with no shirt and no shoes; if you're talking on a cell phone, you're considered rude and inconsiderate to those around you. Personally I find it mildly annoying, but nothing to make a big deal about, and certainly not something to cause a scene over. In my opinion it was much more rude to bother someone who's on the phone and request that he take his conversation outside, where he may miss his name being called for the doctor. From my perspective it certainly was much more annoying. Cell phones are part of life; they're here and not going away. While it would have been nice if phone guy initially made his call outside, I don't think Hippie Biker had more of a right to ask him to leave, especially since he was not being offensive or loud. I therefore rule in favor of Phone guy. Court adjourned.
Addendum: I'm starting to believe this tendency to bash, criticize and mock cell phone users is getting more annoying than the actual deed, especially when it comes from hippocrites. Between starting and finishing this entry I found myself in a pizza shop waiting for my food, and as I waited I spotted a sign next to the counter, "We'll be happy to help you once you're off your cell phone!" This by itself I thought was incredibly arrogant, as if being on the phone was akin to changing a baby's diaper on the counter. But what really got me was after reading the sign, I immediately looked over at the guy behind the counter (who I happen to know is the owner) and lo and behold, he's on his goddamned phone! I actually witnessed him take no less than three orders while on the phone; now granted he had one of those robotic bluetooth earpiece thingies, but what the hell?? How is it the guy who's taking my order, giving me change and preparing my food feels it's ok to be distracted and talk in front of his customers, but holy HELL is it wrong to make him wait a half a second to decide whether I want extra cheese because I'm asking my friend on the phone! I almost wished Hippie Biker was there to rip the sign off the wall and shove it down his throat...
Friday, February 29, 2008
Oh, Please sign my book.....
OK, this may not exactly be real blogworthy material, but in case my readers don't scrutinize every square inch of my blog site every time they log on, I'd like to announce that to the right over there, under the "About this Blog" blurb, is a link to my newly formed guestbook. The reason for creating this section is simple: Newbies to the Wonderful World of Paul's Mind may not feel comfortable leaving comments on any of the specific topics posted here, or may not have a strong opinion on the most recent entry. In fact, it's pretty apparent they don't. This allows a place for visitors who, either by accident or intentionally, find my blog in their travels through the World Wide Web to comment on the overall experience of reading through my entries, or to simply stop in and say hi. I often joke about my loyal readers numbering in the single digits, that nobody else would read dreck like this, but in reality I've always been curious about how many people actually DO find the site and stop in to read. Hopefully this will give me a better idea of who and where my readers are.
Of course, to me this "Guestbook" idea always seemed like a throwback to the 'ol days of graduation, where throngs of students spend the last remaining days of their school career running around getting friends and people they barely know to sign their yearbooks, all in an attempt to look cool and feel good about themselves by having every page covered in signatures. Believe me, my creating this guestbook for total strangers to sign is in no way a sad attempt to relive that era and make up for the virtually unmarked yearbook I came out of high school with..... really. This apparent need to solicit every man, woman and child on the internet to sign my humble little guestbook does NOT stem from a feeling of inadequacy, low self esteem, and unpopularity... Honestly!
Now PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE just sign the damn book!!
Of course, to me this "Guestbook" idea always seemed like a throwback to the 'ol days of graduation, where throngs of students spend the last remaining days of their school career running around getting friends and people they barely know to sign their yearbooks, all in an attempt to look cool and feel good about themselves by having every page covered in signatures. Believe me, my creating this guestbook for total strangers to sign is in no way a sad attempt to relive that era and make up for the virtually unmarked yearbook I came out of high school with..... really. This apparent need to solicit every man, woman and child on the internet to sign my humble little guestbook does NOT stem from a feeling of inadequacy, low self esteem, and unpopularity... Honestly!
Now PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE just sign the damn book!!
Monday, January 21, 2008
"Bring Me Elmo's Head on a Platter!"
WARNING: GRUESOME CONTENT - For those with a weak stomach, click off this blog now. I cannot be responsible for any nightmares or breakdowns in mental stability that may ensue.
Unless your child is sadistic enough to demand this for their birthday, I strongly urge you to reconsider bringing them to Waldbaums to choose a cake for his/her next party. Strolling through the aisles of the supermarket while shopping (yes, I DO shop, and no, that's not the gruesome part), I unexpectedly happened across this hideous scene in the bakery department, a display more suitable for a Halloween wax museum or Horrorfest than a grocery store. I was appalled; Young children, innocently holding on to their mother's hand without a care in the world, should never have to be exposed to such horrors. Don't say I didn't warn you.
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Marie Antoinette suffered a similar fate when suggesting cake.
What would possess any parent to purchase this abomination for their child? Forgetting the whole "it's freaking Elmo's HEAD on a platter" thing, it's not even a close resemblance of the muppet; in fact, it really does look like a decomposing head! Scary by any means. And of course we all know the birthday traditions about the birthday boy/girl and the cake.... "Hey, let's traumatize Jimmy some more by forcing him to make the first incision into Elmo's skull!"
I implore you, do not put your child through such agony. You'll pay for it in therapy for years.
Unless your child is sadistic enough to demand this for their birthday, I strongly urge you to reconsider bringing them to Waldbaums to choose a cake for his/her next party. Strolling through the aisles of the supermarket while shopping (yes, I DO shop, and no, that's not the gruesome part), I unexpectedly happened across this hideous scene in the bakery department, a display more suitable for a Halloween wax museum or Horrorfest than a grocery store. I was appalled; Young children, innocently holding on to their mother's hand without a care in the world, should never have to be exposed to such horrors. Don't say I didn't warn you.
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What would possess any parent to purchase this abomination for their child? Forgetting the whole "it's freaking Elmo's HEAD on a platter" thing, it's not even a close resemblance of the muppet; in fact, it really does look like a decomposing head! Scary by any means. And of course we all know the birthday traditions about the birthday boy/girl and the cake.... "Hey, let's traumatize Jimmy some more by forcing him to make the first incision into Elmo's skull!"
I implore you, do not put your child through such agony. You'll pay for it in therapy for years.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Seriously... WTF??
I try, I really do try, not to make fun of the younger generation; if for any other reason than the mere fact that they're simply too easy a target. Anyone can make an 'underwear hanging out' joke referring to current styles, or a 'would you like fries with that' comment suggestive of the overall intelligence of today's youth. It's just too easy, and quite frankly makes me sound like an old friggin fart. Today however I'll run the risk and am willing to make an exception, because I ran into a situation the other day that left even me speechless. Let me set up the scenario:
Saturday afternoon; Smithhaven Mall. Spencers (big shock there). Shopping for a birthday card for my brother. (yes, Spencers sells birthday cards..) Finding a card a liked, I bring it up to the stoner cashier for purchase. Now, I'm calling him a stoner, because I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here; to say otherwise would imply that he really was, in fact, seriously mentally challenged. Now if that was the case then I must truly apologize in advance, I don't make fun of the handicapped; but I have a hard time believing that, equal rights aside, even Spencers would let a mentally handicapped individual handle the cash drawer by himself. So, for the sake of the story, we'll just assume he was a stoner. Anyway, I bring the card up to the stoner, who takes his sweet time ringing up the order... the order of ONE birthday card mind you. He asks me if that is all; I say yes. Time passes. He asks me if I'd like a Spencers preferred customer card. I say no. Time passes. He asks, "Are you sure?" I say yes, I'm sure. More time passes. He starts to say the price of the card.... "Twenty four............um, wait....." It takes him a full 15 seconds to realize a single birthday card shouldn't cost twenty four dollars. "$2.40" he finally says. I quickly hand him a five, my patience starting to wear thin. I never in my wildest dreams expected the next phrase...
"....would you like a gift receipt?"
"Uh... wha? Ummm.. aaaa....errrr... huh?" That's what went through my mind in the span of a split second. A gift receipt..... for a birthday card. I'd give real money to see the security camera footage of my face as the question was posed to me. As it stood I simply just said, "No" and forced the muscles in my eyes from rolling back in disbelief. Had it not already taken way too long to purchase a single birthday card, I might have actually called him on it, said "Yes, please", gotten a gift receipt and had my brother try to return it for a full refund... signed, licked and all. But I just wasn't in the mood, holiday shopping will do that to you.
Next time, however, I will be prepared.
Saturday afternoon; Smithhaven Mall. Spencers (big shock there). Shopping for a birthday card for my brother. (yes, Spencers sells birthday cards..) Finding a card a liked, I bring it up to the stoner cashier for purchase. Now, I'm calling him a stoner, because I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here; to say otherwise would imply that he really was, in fact, seriously mentally challenged. Now if that was the case then I must truly apologize in advance, I don't make fun of the handicapped; but I have a hard time believing that, equal rights aside, even Spencers would let a mentally handicapped individual handle the cash drawer by himself. So, for the sake of the story, we'll just assume he was a stoner. Anyway, I bring the card up to the stoner, who takes his sweet time ringing up the order... the order of ONE birthday card mind you. He asks me if that is all; I say yes. Time passes. He asks me if I'd like a Spencers preferred customer card. I say no. Time passes. He asks, "Are you sure?" I say yes, I'm sure. More time passes. He starts to say the price of the card.... "Twenty four............um, wait....." It takes him a full 15 seconds to realize a single birthday card shouldn't cost twenty four dollars. "$2.40" he finally says. I quickly hand him a five, my patience starting to wear thin. I never in my wildest dreams expected the next phrase...
"....would you like a gift receipt?"
"Uh... wha? Ummm.. aaaa....errrr... huh?" That's what went through my mind in the span of a split second. A gift receipt..... for a birthday card. I'd give real money to see the security camera footage of my face as the question was posed to me. As it stood I simply just said, "No" and forced the muscles in my eyes from rolling back in disbelief. Had it not already taken way too long to purchase a single birthday card, I might have actually called him on it, said "Yes, please", gotten a gift receipt and had my brother try to return it for a full refund... signed, licked and all. But I just wasn't in the mood, holiday shopping will do that to you.
Next time, however, I will be prepared.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Bush's Days are Numbered, Literally
Taking a political cue from my friend Rich's blog (Criteria for Impeachment), I decided to write a small post about something I found in the mall while shopping the other day which confirmed the state of Mr. Bush's popularity. It still baffles me how it seems, at least in my daily life, that Bush denouncers outnumber Bush supporters about 100-1, yet he was elected not once but TWICE. It still baffles me that this man most likely holds the record as being the most loathed and hated U.S. President in the history of our country, and yet he still gleefully holds the reigns of our lives. "The most hated President? Isn't that a bit harsh?" you might say (you probably wouldn't, but you might just to keep the conversation going). Well, look, every President in my recent memory has had his fair share of foibles, and subsequently has been ripped apart by the media, late-night talk show hosts, and stand-up comedians worldwide. It comes with the territory, and Bush is no different. But what makes him stand out, however, is the LEVEL of abuse he elicits. Never before have I seen so many anti-presidential memorabilia sold in stores; entire books written JUST about a President's lack of verbal skills; movies made about a President's alleged involvement in terrorist activities, and now, this:
A calendar dedicated solely to counting down the final days of a President's reign of terror. Priceless. It's non-aggressive protestation at it's finest, and really gives a new literal meaning to the phrase "his days are numbered". What I found even funnier, however, was while looking for an image of this year's calendar, I discovered that for the past several years this company has put out this calendar, slowly counting down the days until this man is finally and forcefully removed from office. Now how many Presidents have you known to evoke this kind of animosity from the American people?
A calendar dedicated solely to counting down the final days of a President's reign of terror. Priceless. It's non-aggressive protestation at it's finest, and really gives a new literal meaning to the phrase "his days are numbered". What I found even funnier, however, was while looking for an image of this year's calendar, I discovered that for the past several years this company has put out this calendar, slowly counting down the days until this man is finally and forcefully removed from office. Now how many Presidents have you known to evoke this kind of animosity from the American people?
Friday, October 19, 2007
Got a Buck? Go Elsewhere
Throughout my many years in the publishing and advertising fields, I've learned and accepted this simple fact: clients and advertisers love to idiot-proof the hell out of their advertisements. "If we don't put the price 10 times bigger than the rest of the type, they'll think it's free"; "If we don't put our name and phone number 15 different places, they won't know who to call..."; "More color means more sales, add more color!" So it really cracks me up when I see marketing that completely abandons this concept. Case in point: I came across a store in a strip mall yesterday whose name pretty much said it all: "Things Over $1.00". Yes, that was the name of the store; it was not just a sign in the window, it was not in front of a single aisle; you have Target, you have Best Buy, and you have Things Over $1.00. Just the title alone made my eyes roll in astonishment, wondering what chimp got paid millions of dollars for that genius bit of marketing. But it's the implication that really gets me. Things over $1. They sell things that cost more than a dollar. Doesn't really leave much out, does it? I mean, does that imply that I can go in there and buy, say, a phone, or a pool, or a welcome mat, or a motorcycle, or a beret, or an air conditioner, or a couch, or a suit, or a python, or a calendar, or a shovel, or a hamburger, or a set of speakers? Last I checked these things all cost more than a dollar, so hypothetically I should be able to find any one of these items there. What am I supposed to expect to buy when walking into this store?
Finally, a true one-stop shopping experience
I mean, I get it. I know what they're trying to do. They're in the same field as those "99¢ Stores" and "Under $1" places. But there are two flaws in their strategy: First off, The whole appeal of a "99¢ store" is just that: everything is 99 cents. You can go in with a few bucks and leave with several things. It's almost like a garage sale, without worrying about whose feet those nailclippers touched last. What exactly is the appeal of a store that touts everything in their store as costing "over a dollar"? Sure it could mean some things are, like, $1.09, but it also means some might be $2.09, or $4.99, or $9.99. At that point they're really no better than any other store that sells low-end crap, so why bother?
The second point is simply this: it's a grim reminder of today's economic environment. Over at the Thymenage blog, Steve wrote about a similar phenomenon having to do with gumball machines and the inflation from 10 cents to 25 cents to now up to 50 cents plus, all for the same crap you got 15 years ago. Click here to read. This is similar to the trend we're seeing here: first the "Under $1" store, then the "99¢" Store, now the "Over $1" Store. I for one am putting my foot down here and now; I refuse to shop at any crappy merchandise establishment selling their cheap sub-standard goods for anything over a dollar! Join me, and we'll ensure a future free of overpriced knick-knacks and clothes hangars, knock-off batteries and plastic tools.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Torture!! Bloody Torture!!
I try not to do "hey, this happened to me today" blog entries, but this I think deserves an exception. I've been following this game 'Bioshock' closely for almost a year; it's the first of many Next Gen PC games coming out in the next few months, and it's finally being released August 21st, a day after my birthday. I had heard rumors that some stores were selling it already, even though they were supposed to wait until the 21st by law, but I never thought anything of it, figuring it was only the XBox version that was circulating around and I'd never have the luck to come across a store that was selling them anyway. I decided I wanted the Collector's Edition, which comes with a whole mess of geeky goodness to satisfy my thirst for tacky extras, including a figurine of the main baddie of the game, the Big Daddy; a soundtrack; a bonus behind-the-scenes DVD; and other fun stuff. So today I figured I'd check in at the local Gamestop store during lunch to see what the deal was, as the Collectors Edition was supposedly a Gamestop exclusive. Here's the dialog, in a nutshell:
Gamestop Employee: "Can I help you find something?"
Paul: "Sort of, are you guys getting the Collector's Edition of Bioshock for the PC?"
GE (slowly): "Yeeees.... yes we are"
Paul: "Um..Ok....."
GE: "Here's the story on that..."
Paul: "There's a story?"
GE: "Yes, the story is we're only getting one Collector's Edition in this store on release day...."
(OK, I thought, here comes the high pressure sell, even though I already decided I was pre-ordering it....)
GE: "...and it's waiting to be reserved"
(At least he didn't say it was already reserved... I don't care if there was one or one hundred, as long as they keep one for me.)
Paul: "Ok, sounds good."
(slight pause)
GE: "Wanna know the worst thing?"
Paul: "Um, OK, what's that?"
GE: "It's sitting in our back room there, but we can't sell it until the 21st."
Paul: "WHAT? You guys got them in already? How'd that happen? I thought it went Gold only a few days ago."
GE: "No idea. They came in early, but we're not allowed to sell them until Tuesday."
Paul: "Arg! You gotta be kidding me! It's the collectors edition?"
GE: "Yep"
Paul: "With the porthole window box?"
GE: "Yep."
Paul: "And the Big Daddy figurine looking out the porthole?"
GE: "Yep."
Paul: "Aagghhh! You're killing me! Hey, does it make a difference that my birthday is Monday??"
GE: "Nope"
Paul: "DAMMIT!"
GE: So...would you like to pre-order it?"
Paul: "Son of a.....(sigh).... yeah."
"you will be mine Big Daddy, oh yes, you will be mine"
So now I have to freakin' wait until Tuesday to pick up the most highly anticipated game of the year while it sits on a back shelf in Gamestop's inventory room. I know what you're all thinking... you're thinking, "Geez, I'm surprised you didn't ask to see it and hold the box in your grubby little hands...you freak." Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't STRONGLY consider asking him to bring it out to see what it looked like, but decided to salvage what little dignity and self-respect I had left and departed. I can wait another few days, I guess.
Gamestop Employee: "Can I help you find something?"
Paul: "Sort of, are you guys getting the Collector's Edition of Bioshock for the PC?"
GE (slowly): "Yeeees.... yes we are"
Paul: "Um..Ok....."
GE: "Here's the story on that..."
Paul: "There's a story?"
GE: "Yes, the story is we're only getting one Collector's Edition in this store on release day...."
(OK, I thought, here comes the high pressure sell, even though I already decided I was pre-ordering it....)
GE: "...and it's waiting to be reserved"
(At least he didn't say it was already reserved... I don't care if there was one or one hundred, as long as they keep one for me.)
Paul: "Ok, sounds good."
(slight pause)
GE: "Wanna know the worst thing?"
Paul: "Um, OK, what's that?"
GE: "It's sitting in our back room there, but we can't sell it until the 21st."
Paul: "WHAT? You guys got them in already? How'd that happen? I thought it went Gold only a few days ago."
GE: "No idea. They came in early, but we're not allowed to sell them until Tuesday."
Paul: "Arg! You gotta be kidding me! It's the collectors edition?"
GE: "Yep"
Paul: "With the porthole window box?"
GE: "Yep."
Paul: "And the Big Daddy figurine looking out the porthole?"
GE: "Yep."
Paul: "Aagghhh! You're killing me! Hey, does it make a difference that my birthday is Monday??"
GE: "Nope"
Paul: "DAMMIT!"
GE: So...would you like to pre-order it?"
Paul: "Son of a.....(sigh).... yeah."
"you will be mine Big Daddy, oh yes, you will be mine"
So now I have to freakin' wait until Tuesday to pick up the most highly anticipated game of the year while it sits on a back shelf in Gamestop's inventory room. I know what you're all thinking... you're thinking, "Geez, I'm surprised you didn't ask to see it and hold the box in your grubby little hands...you freak." Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't STRONGLY consider asking him to bring it out to see what it looked like, but decided to salvage what little dignity and self-respect I had left and departed. I can wait another few days, I guess.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Stupid People in the News
I'm sorry, I tried to come up with a more clever title for this blog entry, but sometimes the direct approach just works the best. I usually don't do commentary on news events, but this one just had me so baffled I felt the urge to write and let the world (or at least my circle of readers) know these people exist.
You may recall a few years back a very bizarre event which occurred in Erie, PA. A pizza deliveryman walked into a bank with what appeared to be a bomb locked around his neck, and demanded money. After the robbery he left the bank and was soon stopped by police, to whom he explained that he had been taken hostage while delivering a pizza, forced to wear the collar bomb and told to rob the bank. He insisted the bomb was set to go off if he did not return, and sure enough shortly after being handcuffed to a police vehicle, was killed when the bomb detonated. What prompted me to run to my computer and blog was the news article I read today, announcing police had arrested two individuals as co-conspirators to that bank robbery plot. One of the two, Marjorie Armstrong (the apparent ringleader) is currently serving time in prison for the murder of her boyfriend. She was linked to the robbery scheme when the body of her boyfriend was discovered in a freezer in a house near the building to which the pizza deliveryman was delivering a pizza at the time of his abduction. Let me repeat: She's already been prosecuted and imprisoned for the murder of her boyfriend, and has now been charged with plotting a bank robbery. OK, now for the 'stupid' part. In defending his client, Miss Armstrong's attorney denies she could have had any part in the planning and execution of the bank robbery, saying (and this is a direct quote), "Margie's bipolar and has other problems...She won't get off of something until that thing is settled. So it's hard for me to believe she'd be planning a bank robbery when she's concerned about her boyfriend's body."
I'll pause to let that sink in............
This statement, I believe, is proof positive that evolution has officially stopped, reversed course and is now racing backwards. I don't even know where to begin to describe how many ways this single quote justifies EVERY dead lawyer joke I've ever heard in my life. His defense... of this woman..... is she's bipolar and therefore incapable of dealing with two heinous crimes simultaneously. Wow... who knew the mental illness card could now be taken to such a new low. I can see where we're heading: "Your honor, my client couldn't possibly have committed this murder, because she has OCD, and there were dirty dishes left at the scene of the crime, which my client would NEVER have left without washing......" Wait for it... you know it's coming.
You may recall a few years back a very bizarre event which occurred in Erie, PA. A pizza deliveryman walked into a bank with what appeared to be a bomb locked around his neck, and demanded money. After the robbery he left the bank and was soon stopped by police, to whom he explained that he had been taken hostage while delivering a pizza, forced to wear the collar bomb and told to rob the bank. He insisted the bomb was set to go off if he did not return, and sure enough shortly after being handcuffed to a police vehicle, was killed when the bomb detonated. What prompted me to run to my computer and blog was the news article I read today, announcing police had arrested two individuals as co-conspirators to that bank robbery plot. One of the two, Marjorie Armstrong (the apparent ringleader) is currently serving time in prison for the murder of her boyfriend. She was linked to the robbery scheme when the body of her boyfriend was discovered in a freezer in a house near the building to which the pizza deliveryman was delivering a pizza at the time of his abduction. Let me repeat: She's already been prosecuted and imprisoned for the murder of her boyfriend, and has now been charged with plotting a bank robbery. OK, now for the 'stupid' part. In defending his client, Miss Armstrong's attorney denies she could have had any part in the planning and execution of the bank robbery, saying (and this is a direct quote), "Margie's bipolar and has other problems...She won't get off of something until that thing is settled. So it's hard for me to believe she'd be planning a bank robbery when she's concerned about her boyfriend's body."
I'll pause to let that sink in............
This statement, I believe, is proof positive that evolution has officially stopped, reversed course and is now racing backwards. I don't even know where to begin to describe how many ways this single quote justifies EVERY dead lawyer joke I've ever heard in my life. His defense... of this woman..... is she's bipolar and therefore incapable of dealing with two heinous crimes simultaneously. Wow... who knew the mental illness card could now be taken to such a new low. I can see where we're heading: "Your honor, my client couldn't possibly have committed this murder, because she has OCD, and there were dirty dishes left at the scene of the crime, which my client would NEVER have left without washing......" Wait for it... you know it's coming.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Rock On, You Crazy Hero
Damn you Joe. Damn you to hell.
For all of you who are NOT Joe, let me explain: I have this problem you see. My head is like a fertile garden; once a seed is planted it takes root and grows at an extraordinary pace until I satisfy it. Knowing this, and knowing how susceptible I am to suggestion, especially when it comes to gaming, my friend Joe maliciously and with intent to disrupt my life planted a seed that would spread and take over my mind like a parasitic weed. This seed: Guitar Hero 2.
I don't think even Joe expected what happened next.
I generally don't like console games, and never really got into them. I didn't have Guitar Hero 2. I didn't have a Playstation 2. And I certainly didn't have not one but two Guitar controllers. But a week after being shown a video on YouTube of some kid rocking out to Rush's "YYZ" on Guitar Hero 2 Click here to watch , and a brief visit to eBay, I now do. And let me tell you, it was the best $200 I've spent in years! This game completely and unequivocally rocks. For those who live shielded from the video game world, a brief description may be in order. It comes with a guitar-shaped controller with five colored fret buttons on the neck and a strum bar in the body, essentially letting you mimic the act of playing a guitar while color-coded notes fly down your screen according to the song being played. The object of course is to hit the right colored notes in time with those on the screen, whilst hitting the strum bar to simulate strumming the strings of a guitar. If you've ever seen Dance Dance Revolution, it's along the same lines, but with less energy expended and alot more hand dexterity required.
Yes, Steve... I wore the "National Scream" shirt just for you.
The greatest appeal of the Guitar Hero series is simply this: it gives musically-challenged people like me the ability to feel as if I'm really playing guitar along to some of rocks greatest tunes, without having a clue how to actually play. Anyone who's ever fingered their steering wheel while driving along to "You Really Got Me" or "Sweet Child O' Mine" can understand the attraction of this game. It's basically air guitar with an added sense of skill and accomplishment. I've never played a real note on a guitar in my life, and yet can already nail riffs and chords on the Medium setting. Don't let me misguide you however; this game does NOT teach you how to play guitar, no more than playing a combat simulator teaches you to how to fly a fighter jet. But just like piloting a virtual jet into a virtual war is meant to be enjoyable to the typical gamer without being overly complicated (or dangerous), Guitar Hero is designed to let the average person enjoy the sensation of rocking out to the classics without years of music lessons or succumbing to stage fright.
I've come across a few discussions online as to whether musicians who actually know how to play guitar would find this game easier or harder than the average guitar virgin. The obvious answer would seem to be yes, of course, since the game is a watered down simplified version of the real thing; however, some argue that in actuality the strict nature of the game and the necessity to hit the notes EXACTLY as shown with no room for improvisation or adding one's own style makes it MORE difficult for a seasoned player to adapt to the game. Personally I don't believe in that poppycock; to be honest I don't believe in the use of the word 'poppycock' either, but it seemed to fit the idea I was trying to portray nicely, so there you go.
So now, with my little Vince Neil look-alike avatar strumming a Gibson Explorer with Rising Sun graphics (OK, maybe not so little, after all, I AM playing on my 67" widescreen!) I rock away to Cheap Trick's "Surrender", Black Sabbath's "War Pigs", Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name of", and of course, the Crüe's "Shout at the Devil". All I need now is a second player to explore the wonderful world of Co-op play; After all, what's the use in being a guitar hero if you can't share the limelight with your friends? So..... any takers? =)
Welcome to my wonderful world of obsessions.
For all of you who are NOT Joe, let me explain: I have this problem you see. My head is like a fertile garden; once a seed is planted it takes root and grows at an extraordinary pace until I satisfy it. Knowing this, and knowing how susceptible I am to suggestion, especially when it comes to gaming, my friend Joe maliciously and with intent to disrupt my life planted a seed that would spread and take over my mind like a parasitic weed. This seed: Guitar Hero 2.
I don't think even Joe expected what happened next.
I generally don't like console games, and never really got into them. I didn't have Guitar Hero 2. I didn't have a Playstation 2. And I certainly didn't have not one but two Guitar controllers. But a week after being shown a video on YouTube of some kid rocking out to Rush's "YYZ" on Guitar Hero 2 Click here to watch , and a brief visit to eBay, I now do. And let me tell you, it was the best $200 I've spent in years! This game completely and unequivocally rocks. For those who live shielded from the video game world, a brief description may be in order. It comes with a guitar-shaped controller with five colored fret buttons on the neck and a strum bar in the body, essentially letting you mimic the act of playing a guitar while color-coded notes fly down your screen according to the song being played. The object of course is to hit the right colored notes in time with those on the screen, whilst hitting the strum bar to simulate strumming the strings of a guitar. If you've ever seen Dance Dance Revolution, it's along the same lines, but with less energy expended and alot more hand dexterity required.
Yes, Steve... I wore the "National Scream" shirt just for you.
The greatest appeal of the Guitar Hero series is simply this: it gives musically-challenged people like me the ability to feel as if I'm really playing guitar along to some of rocks greatest tunes, without having a clue how to actually play. Anyone who's ever fingered their steering wheel while driving along to "You Really Got Me" or "Sweet Child O' Mine" can understand the attraction of this game. It's basically air guitar with an added sense of skill and accomplishment. I've never played a real note on a guitar in my life, and yet can already nail riffs and chords on the Medium setting. Don't let me misguide you however; this game does NOT teach you how to play guitar, no more than playing a combat simulator teaches you to how to fly a fighter jet. But just like piloting a virtual jet into a virtual war is meant to be enjoyable to the typical gamer without being overly complicated (or dangerous), Guitar Hero is designed to let the average person enjoy the sensation of rocking out to the classics without years of music lessons or succumbing to stage fright.
I've come across a few discussions online as to whether musicians who actually know how to play guitar would find this game easier or harder than the average guitar virgin. The obvious answer would seem to be yes, of course, since the game is a watered down simplified version of the real thing; however, some argue that in actuality the strict nature of the game and the necessity to hit the notes EXACTLY as shown with no room for improvisation or adding one's own style makes it MORE difficult for a seasoned player to adapt to the game. Personally I don't believe in that poppycock; to be honest I don't believe in the use of the word 'poppycock' either, but it seemed to fit the idea I was trying to portray nicely, so there you go.
So now, with my little Vince Neil look-alike avatar strumming a Gibson Explorer with Rising Sun graphics (OK, maybe not so little, after all, I AM playing on my 67" widescreen!) I rock away to Cheap Trick's "Surrender", Black Sabbath's "War Pigs", Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name of", and of course, the Crüe's "Shout at the Devil". All I need now is a second player to explore the wonderful world of Co-op play; After all, what's the use in being a guitar hero if you can't share the limelight with your friends? So..... any takers? =)
Welcome to my wonderful world of obsessions.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
No Purchase Necessary
I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch today. I know, I know, with my cholesterol, that's the last place I should have gone, but I was craving some hot wings and surprisingly, KFC has some pretty decent wings. So there I was, sitting down with my meal, and looking around for something to read. I like having something to occupy my eyes while I eat meals, whether it be a tv show, video game, or the placemat on the tray of a fast-food restaurant. To my dismay KFC's placemat had nothing of relevance to read, so I grabbed the receipt to check it out, and lo and behold, a contest! Well not really a contest, it was one of those opinion survey things, where you call or log onto their site, let them know how your experience was, and possibly win $1,000 for your troubles. These "E-pinion" things seem to have become very popular lately, as if restaurant owners suddenly realized that 'Customer Satisfaction' is not just a empty promise scrawled across a mission statement. While reading the contest info and rules, I came across a frequently used term in contests: No Purchase Necessary. I found this quite odd, for a number of reasons. First, I would never have known about the survey unless I actually purchased something and found it on the back of the receipt; but more importantly, the whole point of the contest was to encourage patrons who are buying things to take a survey to rate the service received. If there was no transaction, no purchase and no interaction with the staff, how am I supposed to rate them on a service I didn't receive? What am I supposed to say if logging on to the site after NOT having made a purchase? Is there an entire column labeled "Not applicable" for those that just decided to take the survey for the hell of it, having never stepped into the restaurant?
Don't get me wrong, I understand the whole "No Purchase Necessary" thing is pretty standard on most contests, especially those that are instant winning types or those in which you need multiple pieces to win, such as the McDonald's Monopoly game. These also crack me up though, because along with the whole "No Purchase" thing they also state that you can "write in for a free gamepiece" or "free scratch-off game", as if they're really going to send a million-dollar winning gamepiece to some loser who couldn't even be bothered eating at their restaurant.
Anyway, as far as KFC's "Opinionport.com" survey went, I decided to call them on it, wondering if maybe they had some kind of contingency for those who actually did walk in and out of the store without purchasing a single item. Sure enough, the first screen I get to: "Look on the front of your receipt and find the store number.... Enter the number in the space below exactly as it appears on the receipt." Hmmm... OK, kinda hard to do if one HAS no receipt, but whatever. As I was in fact lucky enough to have one, I punched in the number, answered 3 little questions, and was coldly told I was not this weeks winner, and to try again in six weeks. SIX WEEKS? The receipt confirms this: "Limit 1 entry every 6 weeks". I had to wonder how they plan on monitoring this, given I supplied absolutely no information about myself save for the 7-digit store number. I input the number again, and this time I get a much longer survey. Ah...filled it out and again was told I'm not $1,000 richer. Tried one more time, and their records showed I already filled out a survey from this machine. Ah ha, that explains that. But I'd still like to know how I'm supposed to participate without a purchase!
Don't get me wrong, I understand the whole "No Purchase Necessary" thing is pretty standard on most contests, especially those that are instant winning types or those in which you need multiple pieces to win, such as the McDonald's Monopoly game. These also crack me up though, because along with the whole "No Purchase" thing they also state that you can "write in for a free gamepiece" or "free scratch-off game", as if they're really going to send a million-dollar winning gamepiece to some loser who couldn't even be bothered eating at their restaurant.
Anyway, as far as KFC's "Opinionport.com" survey went, I decided to call them on it, wondering if maybe they had some kind of contingency for those who actually did walk in and out of the store without purchasing a single item. Sure enough, the first screen I get to: "Look on the front of your receipt and find the store number.... Enter the number in the space below exactly as it appears on the receipt." Hmmm... OK, kinda hard to do if one HAS no receipt, but whatever. As I was in fact lucky enough to have one, I punched in the number, answered 3 little questions, and was coldly told I was not this weeks winner, and to try again in six weeks. SIX WEEKS? The receipt confirms this: "Limit 1 entry every 6 weeks". I had to wonder how they plan on monitoring this, given I supplied absolutely no information about myself save for the 7-digit store number. I input the number again, and this time I get a much longer survey. Ah...filled it out and again was told I'm not $1,000 richer. Tried one more time, and their records showed I already filled out a survey from this machine. Ah ha, that explains that. But I'd still like to know how I'm supposed to participate without a purchase!
Monday, March 26, 2007
I'm a Stinkin' Liar.....
Well, what can I say? It's been exactly 2 months since I left my second job to persue more free time, a more relaxed lifestyle, and the ability to chew my food instead of choking down a meal in 10 minutes. Two months since I last wrote on my blogs, promising more frequent updates due to my newfound freedom, more tales of adventures permitted by all the free time I would now have.
And what has happened since then?
Nothing.
Well, nothing is obviously an understatement. I mean, things happen all the time; to reword, nothing BLOGWORTHY has happened, or more specifically, no blogworthy ideas have sprung into mind as of late. The first month after my escape I was preoccupied with a wedding album job my dad had given me, one of those "coffee table" books that we've been talking about having me do for his studio. That occupied every waking moment of my consciousness; it was a pretty big book. Meanwhile, my other freelance work picked up and I was told to come two days a week rather than the usual one. So, even though I left Star Community Publishing with the hopes of having more free time, the first few months my friends have seen little change in my availability.
Oh, one thing that has happened, I decided to treat myself to another computer. Oh, yes, if there's one thing I like doing, it's treating myself to new computers. So getting this behemoth to work properly has been the focus of my attention the last few weeks; why would I need to get a brand new computer working properly, you ask? Very good question, you attentive little readers, you. Well, I have the unfortunate tendency to buy computers just as they're releasing new operating systems, this time around it's Windows Vista. And just like any new Operating System, it's riddled with compatability and performance issues. Add to that the fact that my new video and sound cards are too new to have working drivers for them, and we have a brand new system virtually useless to me. So I've been spending weekends moving harddrives, reloading software, downloading drivers, moving more hardware, and overall trying to get this to work within my acceptable parameters. It's not quite there yet. Some call it a sickness... I call it a hobby. All for the sake of amazing graphics at a reasonable framerate.
So, I'm not going to lie to you again and say I'll be back to blog soon; I really just don't know when I'll have something worthy to enter, could be tomorrow... could be another 2 months. Right now I have to catch up on everyone else's blogs to see what I've been missing. Thank you for being patient with my lax attitude; I can only hope it will eventually get better. =)
And what has happened since then?
Nothing.
Well, nothing is obviously an understatement. I mean, things happen all the time; to reword, nothing BLOGWORTHY has happened, or more specifically, no blogworthy ideas have sprung into mind as of late. The first month after my escape I was preoccupied with a wedding album job my dad had given me, one of those "coffee table" books that we've been talking about having me do for his studio. That occupied every waking moment of my consciousness; it was a pretty big book. Meanwhile, my other freelance work picked up and I was told to come two days a week rather than the usual one. So, even though I left Star Community Publishing with the hopes of having more free time, the first few months my friends have seen little change in my availability.
Oh, one thing that has happened, I decided to treat myself to another computer. Oh, yes, if there's one thing I like doing, it's treating myself to new computers. So getting this behemoth to work properly has been the focus of my attention the last few weeks; why would I need to get a brand new computer working properly, you ask? Very good question, you attentive little readers, you. Well, I have the unfortunate tendency to buy computers just as they're releasing new operating systems, this time around it's Windows Vista. And just like any new Operating System, it's riddled with compatability and performance issues. Add to that the fact that my new video and sound cards are too new to have working drivers for them, and we have a brand new system virtually useless to me. So I've been spending weekends moving harddrives, reloading software, downloading drivers, moving more hardware, and overall trying to get this to work within my acceptable parameters. It's not quite there yet. Some call it a sickness... I call it a hobby. All for the sake of amazing graphics at a reasonable framerate.
So, I'm not going to lie to you again and say I'll be back to blog soon; I really just don't know when I'll have something worthy to enter, could be tomorrow... could be another 2 months. Right now I have to catch up on everyone else's blogs to see what I've been missing. Thank you for being patient with my lax attitude; I can only hope it will eventually get better. =)
Thursday, January 18, 2007
A New Year, a (belated) New Beginning
The comedian Lewis Black stated in his "Goodbye to 2006" Comedy Central Special that time is an illusion; the recording of time (minutes, days, weeks, years, etc.) is something we humans made up to keep track of things, and doesn't really exist. I've always believed this fundamental truth, all you need to do is count how many "calendars" exist in the world today. For starters, look at the dates created just for new years: there's the standard Catholic New Year, the Chinese New Year, the Jewish New Year, and I'm sure several others not commonly known. Who's to say which one is 'correct'? The answer: none of them are. They're all fabrications surrounding events in each cultures history, and have no real bearing on what goes on in physical world. Yes, technically a 'year' is the time it takes the Earth to circle around the sun, but the "New Year" could have been set at any point, and weeks and months were just convenient ways to divy up the time between now and the next time the Earth is here.
Case in point: Birthdays. Birthdays are randomly selected for you. They can happen on any day. When people ask, "How does it feel to be so-and-so?", usually at the milestone 18, 21, 30, or 50 year marks, do they really expect an answer such as, "Well, Bob, yesterday I was fine, things were going great, life was good... as SOON as 4:28pm rolled around on my 30th birthday my pancreas exploded, my left arm doesn't work anymore, and my hair hurts. Damn it feels aweful being 30, but thanks for asking." Chances are it feels EXACTLY the same as being 29. So why ask? Because human beings have this need to set time markers; hell, we created time as a measurable element, why not utilize it as such. When people ask how it feels to be 30, they're not talking physically; rather the question can be reworded "how do you feel about your life at 30? Is it where you expected to be? Have you fullfilled all the goals you set to have accomplished by 30?" Nothing physical actually happens on the day of your birthday to make it feel any different than the day before.
Another example of marking time: New Year's, more specifically New Year's resolutions. Any one of us at any time can decide to go on a diet, why wait until January 1st? Somehow it makes it all official, giving us a hard line in the sand that says, from this point ON I will eat better, exercise more, not kick puppies, etc... Plus, let's be honest, it allows us a buffer zone to splurge until then. I always found it amusing that December 31st and January 1st are just two regular days next to each other, most of the time just thrown somewhere in the middle of the week, yet everyone's mindset changes drastically from "the end of a year, out with the old" to "the beginning of a brand new year" along with the hopes and dreams that somehow this new year will be better than the last. Again, nothing actually physically changes. In fact, we don't even celebrate it at the same time on this planet, rather we take turns in 1/24th divisions as each time zone floats past the imaginary 12 midnight mark. Hell, most people have broken their New Years resolutions before the rest of the planet even gets there.
As for me, I too have a marker coming up. No, it's not New Year's, and it's not a birthday; for me, the date I eagerly await as the start of a new era and chapter in my life is January 25. If you don't already know, I've had two jobs for the past 9 years, not including all the freelance and occasional wedding work for my dad. Last year I resolved to leave my night job in an effort to get my life back, and last week my 2-weeks notice was handed in. The significance of this is simple: I was tired of using that job as an excuse for not having time for life's other duties. Whether it was not spending time with friends and family, not going food shopping, not entering a blog entry, or simply not being able to do laundry, I finally got fed up with feeling as though my entire life was rushed going from one job to another, and I was getting burnt out. Recently I refinanced my apartment and took the extra money to pay of my gigunda credit card bill, and now I can finally say I'm debt free, and no longer in need of working 65 hours a week. It feels good. But what does this all mean? Well, first off, it means I'll have alot more time during the week to see the people in my life. It means I'll be able to exercise more and hopefully control my high cholesterol and get in shape. It also means I hope to have more frequent blog entries submitted, of better quality. So you see, everybody wins! I know I haven't been the best friend/family member/blog author the past few years, if only because of my inaccessibility, but I hope to rectify that with my own belated New Years Resolution: to finally gain control of my life and enjoy as much of it as I can. Because between January 25th and 26th, something DOES change, something IS very different; I will have my life back. I hope to make the most of it; only time will tell.
Case in point: Birthdays. Birthdays are randomly selected for you. They can happen on any day. When people ask, "How does it feel to be so-and-so?", usually at the milestone 18, 21, 30, or 50 year marks, do they really expect an answer such as, "Well, Bob, yesterday I was fine, things were going great, life was good... as SOON as 4:28pm rolled around on my 30th birthday my pancreas exploded, my left arm doesn't work anymore, and my hair hurts. Damn it feels aweful being 30, but thanks for asking." Chances are it feels EXACTLY the same as being 29. So why ask? Because human beings have this need to set time markers; hell, we created time as a measurable element, why not utilize it as such. When people ask how it feels to be 30, they're not talking physically; rather the question can be reworded "how do you feel about your life at 30? Is it where you expected to be? Have you fullfilled all the goals you set to have accomplished by 30?" Nothing physical actually happens on the day of your birthday to make it feel any different than the day before.
Another example of marking time: New Year's, more specifically New Year's resolutions. Any one of us at any time can decide to go on a diet, why wait until January 1st? Somehow it makes it all official, giving us a hard line in the sand that says, from this point ON I will eat better, exercise more, not kick puppies, etc... Plus, let's be honest, it allows us a buffer zone to splurge until then. I always found it amusing that December 31st and January 1st are just two regular days next to each other, most of the time just thrown somewhere in the middle of the week, yet everyone's mindset changes drastically from "the end of a year, out with the old" to "the beginning of a brand new year" along with the hopes and dreams that somehow this new year will be better than the last. Again, nothing actually physically changes. In fact, we don't even celebrate it at the same time on this planet, rather we take turns in 1/24th divisions as each time zone floats past the imaginary 12 midnight mark. Hell, most people have broken their New Years resolutions before the rest of the planet even gets there.
As for me, I too have a marker coming up. No, it's not New Year's, and it's not a birthday; for me, the date I eagerly await as the start of a new era and chapter in my life is January 25. If you don't already know, I've had two jobs for the past 9 years, not including all the freelance and occasional wedding work for my dad. Last year I resolved to leave my night job in an effort to get my life back, and last week my 2-weeks notice was handed in. The significance of this is simple: I was tired of using that job as an excuse for not having time for life's other duties. Whether it was not spending time with friends and family, not going food shopping, not entering a blog entry, or simply not being able to do laundry, I finally got fed up with feeling as though my entire life was rushed going from one job to another, and I was getting burnt out. Recently I refinanced my apartment and took the extra money to pay of my gigunda credit card bill, and now I can finally say I'm debt free, and no longer in need of working 65 hours a week. It feels good. But what does this all mean? Well, first off, it means I'll have alot more time during the week to see the people in my life. It means I'll be able to exercise more and hopefully control my high cholesterol and get in shape. It also means I hope to have more frequent blog entries submitted, of better quality. So you see, everybody wins! I know I haven't been the best friend/family member/blog author the past few years, if only because of my inaccessibility, but I hope to rectify that with my own belated New Years Resolution: to finally gain control of my life and enjoy as much of it as I can. Because between January 25th and 26th, something DOES change, something IS very different; I will have my life back. I hope to make the most of it; only time will tell.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
The Way It Should Be
People everywhere....... confetti and balloons scattered about........ tables jam-packed with food....... and a virtual Yule Log the size of a compact car.
This was the scene on New Year's Eve at my place, moving forward into the year 2007. As I looked around, I couldn't help but feel a great sense of pride, surrounding myself with so many people I'm proud to call friends. If there is one thing I can honestly say I'm good at, it's the ability to hand-pick the finest group of personalities to associate myself with. And if there's one thing I can honest say I completely suck at, it's the ability to gauge the amount of food needed to feed these personalities. I will be eating Italian hero for the rest of the month.
When hosting a party with so many people from so many places, it's hard to truly show your appreciation to everyone on an individual basis. Running around, trying to be a part of every conversation, cleaning up the odd spill, and making sure food is always available, it may sometimes seem that I'm not there at all. Since most (if not all) of my blog readership happened to be at this, my second New Year's party, I wanted to take this quick opportunity to sincerely thank everyone for coming, for contributing to the fine cuisine, and for personally making this one of the best gatherings of friends I could ever have hoped for. Despite illness, travel hardships and other obstacles, everyone managed to make it in some capacity and hopefully was able to enjoy themselves as much as my meager little home would allow. No kids were hurt, property damage was kept to a minimum and, in contrast to last year's festivities, everyone took their belongings back home with them. The Peter Gabriel concert from last time was replaced by the craptacular performance of Fergie, the more-than-a-little-uncomfortable swooning of aged rockstar Meatloaf to his teenaged-looking co-singer, and some group that seriously looked as if they just jumped onstage from the crowd and started dancing for no reason. Luckily were were all spared the 'singing' attempts by Regis this year.
This was the scene on New Year's Eve at my place, moving forward into the year 2007. As I looked around, I couldn't help but feel a great sense of pride, surrounding myself with so many people I'm proud to call friends. If there is one thing I can honestly say I'm good at, it's the ability to hand-pick the finest group of personalities to associate myself with. And if there's one thing I can honest say I completely suck at, it's the ability to gauge the amount of food needed to feed these personalities. I will be eating Italian hero for the rest of the month.
When hosting a party with so many people from so many places, it's hard to truly show your appreciation to everyone on an individual basis. Running around, trying to be a part of every conversation, cleaning up the odd spill, and making sure food is always available, it may sometimes seem that I'm not there at all. Since most (if not all) of my blog readership happened to be at this, my second New Year's party, I wanted to take this quick opportunity to sincerely thank everyone for coming, for contributing to the fine cuisine, and for personally making this one of the best gatherings of friends I could ever have hoped for. Despite illness, travel hardships and other obstacles, everyone managed to make it in some capacity and hopefully was able to enjoy themselves as much as my meager little home would allow. No kids were hurt, property damage was kept to a minimum and, in contrast to last year's festivities, everyone took their belongings back home with them. The Peter Gabriel concert from last time was replaced by the craptacular performance of Fergie, the more-than-a-little-uncomfortable swooning of aged rockstar Meatloaf to his teenaged-looking co-singer, and some group that seriously looked as if they just jumped onstage from the crowd and started dancing for no reason. Luckily were were all spared the 'singing' attempts by Regis this year.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
A Letter to my Future Kin
Dear sons/daughters/grandchildren,
I'm writing this letter to you in hopes it may retroactively avoid any hard feelings and prevent the unnecessary waste of your presumably hard-earned dollars, or whatever form of currency you crazy kids have in the future. You see, I don't know how it's like in your time, but here in 2006 (and in fact for the past several decades) it's always been reasonably acceptable for children, grandchildren and wives to buy the men in their lives cutesy little t-shirts, license plate frames, trophies and other paraphanelia regarding fatherhood, grandparenting and the like. Well, I'm going on record here and now to tell you I will never wear or otherwise display any such item, whether it be a sweatshirt proclaiming I'm the "#1 Dad" or a license plate frame ordering people to "Drive Carefully, This Is My Pop-Pop". Things like these have no place in my universe. You're my offspring, you know me, and should know better. For instance, you should know I would never wear any t-shirts or other articles of clothing that refers back to myself, especially as something that hasn't been scientifically proven as fact. Let's face it, there's a very slim chance I actually AM the #1 greatest dad living on earth to date. And if some third-party independent government-sponsored study does declare that I am, without a doubt, THE number one father figure of all time, I'd damn well better get more than a shirt for it. And honestly, any car with a bumper sticker or license plate frame that suggests I drive safer just because there's a "special person" occupying their vehicle seriously needs to be run off the road and into a very deep ditch. These 'adornments' have the same inherent flaws the old yellow "Baby Onboard" signs used to have: Nobody gives a shit. In fact, it makes people MORE nervous about driving near or around your car, increasing the chance of an accident. Then of course there's the worst-case scenario: Advertising to criminals. "Hmm.. there's a baby in that car, I'll have to take note; babies go for alot on the black market"; "Oh, there's a very special 'old lady' driving that car? Won't she make a good target for a carjacking.." I hate to put it that way, but you know there are people thinking it...
So, to sum up, my future offspring, please don't embarrass me with offerings of lame merchandise. They will most definitely end up in the very next garage sale. Don't say I didn't warn you. Love ya!
I'm writing this letter to you in hopes it may retroactively avoid any hard feelings and prevent the unnecessary waste of your presumably hard-earned dollars, or whatever form of currency you crazy kids have in the future. You see, I don't know how it's like in your time, but here in 2006 (and in fact for the past several decades) it's always been reasonably acceptable for children, grandchildren and wives to buy the men in their lives cutesy little t-shirts, license plate frames, trophies and other paraphanelia regarding fatherhood, grandparenting and the like. Well, I'm going on record here and now to tell you I will never wear or otherwise display any such item, whether it be a sweatshirt proclaiming I'm the "#1 Dad" or a license plate frame ordering people to "Drive Carefully, This Is My Pop-Pop". Things like these have no place in my universe. You're my offspring, you know me, and should know better. For instance, you should know I would never wear any t-shirts or other articles of clothing that refers back to myself, especially as something that hasn't been scientifically proven as fact. Let's face it, there's a very slim chance I actually AM the #1 greatest dad living on earth to date. And if some third-party independent government-sponsored study does declare that I am, without a doubt, THE number one father figure of all time, I'd damn well better get more than a shirt for it. And honestly, any car with a bumper sticker or license plate frame that suggests I drive safer just because there's a "special person" occupying their vehicle seriously needs to be run off the road and into a very deep ditch. These 'adornments' have the same inherent flaws the old yellow "Baby Onboard" signs used to have: Nobody gives a shit. In fact, it makes people MORE nervous about driving near or around your car, increasing the chance of an accident. Then of course there's the worst-case scenario: Advertising to criminals. "Hmm.. there's a baby in that car, I'll have to take note; babies go for alot on the black market"; "Oh, there's a very special 'old lady' driving that car? Won't she make a good target for a carjacking.." I hate to put it that way, but you know there are people thinking it...
So, to sum up, my future offspring, please don't embarrass me with offerings of lame merchandise. They will most definitely end up in the very next garage sale. Don't say I didn't warn you. Love ya!
Friday, December 01, 2006
Religion in the news
Post 1:
Dateline November 20, 2006: Churchgoers were stunned today when it was learned that Reverend Thomas G. Saloy of the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary Church in Roosevelt, Long Island was arrested on federal child pornography charges. Though taken completely by surprise by these allegations and saddened by the downfall of their Reverend, most parishioners were glad to see the issue would not be ignored or quietly slip through the cracks. However, in a vain attempt to explain how a man of such religious composition falls victim to such sinful behavior, One man had this to say, "We're just shocked, I guess we're all humans and he's in a position of trust as a priest." Another woman was quoted as saying "Maybe in this day and age with the Internet and all of the sex that's out there people can't help themselves, it's human nature."
Excuse me for a second, since when is it 'human nature' to want to masturbate to images of children having sex? Last time I checked, not only was it morally reprehensible but it is, in fact, a federal crime and as such, very illegal; Yes, generically speaking, having sex is a basic primal human instinct, but to use it in defense of a sex crime is as abhorrent as saying, "We're shocked that O.J. brutally slaughtered his wife and her friend, but hey, he was just jealous, he's only human...."
The old "With the internet..people can't help themselves" excuse is a pile of horsecrap, as is the "I guess we're all humans" argument. First off, anyone who thinks of priests, ministers, clerics, rabbis, etc. as anything other than human should just go and try walking on water over a shark tank. And so can the masses that believe people aren't to blame because of the availability of illegal goods. It's called free-will, people. You CAN choose not to download illegal child-porn... Then again, free-will isn't exactly what the Catholic Church has ever promoted, is it?
Post 2:
Kudos go out to Rocker Sir Elton John for chastising the Catholic Church and, more specifically, organized religion in an magazine interview last month. Says John, ""I think religion has always tried to turn hatred toward gay people," adding that he "would ban religion completely. Organized religion doesn't seem to work. It turns people into really hateful lemmings." While I personally don't really know how much religion has really fueled the fire for homophobia, it is very apparent that the Catholic Church has their priorities totally screwed up. If you're going to worry about homosexuals, how about focusing on the ones committing crimes, like, oh say, fondling little boys....
Oh, snap.
Dateline November 20, 2006: Churchgoers were stunned today when it was learned that Reverend Thomas G. Saloy of the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary Church in Roosevelt, Long Island was arrested on federal child pornography charges. Though taken completely by surprise by these allegations and saddened by the downfall of their Reverend, most parishioners were glad to see the issue would not be ignored or quietly slip through the cracks. However, in a vain attempt to explain how a man of such religious composition falls victim to such sinful behavior, One man had this to say, "We're just shocked, I guess we're all humans and he's in a position of trust as a priest." Another woman was quoted as saying "Maybe in this day and age with the Internet and all of the sex that's out there people can't help themselves, it's human nature."
Excuse me for a second, since when is it 'human nature' to want to masturbate to images of children having sex? Last time I checked, not only was it morally reprehensible but it is, in fact, a federal crime and as such, very illegal; Yes, generically speaking, having sex is a basic primal human instinct, but to use it in defense of a sex crime is as abhorrent as saying, "We're shocked that O.J. brutally slaughtered his wife and her friend, but hey, he was just jealous, he's only human...."
The old "With the internet..people can't help themselves" excuse is a pile of horsecrap, as is the "I guess we're all humans" argument. First off, anyone who thinks of priests, ministers, clerics, rabbis, etc. as anything other than human should just go and try walking on water over a shark tank. And so can the masses that believe people aren't to blame because of the availability of illegal goods. It's called free-will, people. You CAN choose not to download illegal child-porn... Then again, free-will isn't exactly what the Catholic Church has ever promoted, is it?
Post 2:
Kudos go out to Rocker Sir Elton John for chastising the Catholic Church and, more specifically, organized religion in an magazine interview last month. Says John, ""I think religion has always tried to turn hatred toward gay people," adding that he "would ban religion completely. Organized religion doesn't seem to work. It turns people into really hateful lemmings." While I personally don't really know how much religion has really fueled the fire for homophobia, it is very apparent that the Catholic Church has their priorities totally screwed up. If you're going to worry about homosexuals, how about focusing on the ones committing crimes, like, oh say, fondling little boys....
Oh, snap.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Tivo, you have failed me for the last time...
I'm going through withdrawal. Seriously, I have the shakes. I had a long day at work, and an even longer night at work; the only thing keeping me going all day was the knowledge that soon I would be watching a new "Lost" episode. I even had my friend Michelle come over to see it, since she was at a rehearsal and couldn't see it live. We were all ready, got our drinks and settled in our respective couch positions.
"Oh wise and all-powerful Tivo, give us our weekly fix of the most addictive television show in all of history!"
Blip...
Blip...
Blip...
Blip...Blip...Blip...Blip...Blip...BONK!
WHAT THE?!?! It didn't record??? Aw HELL no... It recorded LAST week! What the (insert long string of very naughty expletives here)
Well, it turns out after all the hailing and preaching about the Tivo and it's many wondrous features I've done, and praising it as the world's single greatest invention of all time, I neglected to learn it's single most important yet simplest of features: Prioritizing. Seems I had a programming conflict, and not inherently knowing my psychotic raging addiction to "Lost", my naive little machine defaulted to the first show on the list: Mythbusters. Now I like Mythbusters, don't get me wrong, but they replay those damn episodes 38 times a week, and "Lost" gets played... yup, ONCE! The only thing that saved my ass from being hurled through my television by Michelle was the fact that the website, as well as iTunes, will have the episode online tomorrow, albeit in tiny computer-window mode as opposed to glorious 67" widescreen. But much like a crackhead struggling to light the tiny last bits of ashes in his crackpipe, we'll take whatever we can get until next week.
As far as Tivo's concerned, "Lost" got bumped to the highest priority possible, and several Season Passes were deleted entirely just to make sure there are no future conflicts. Michelle will not be so forgiving next time.
"Oh wise and all-powerful Tivo, give us our weekly fix of the most addictive television show in all of history!"
Blip...
Blip...
Blip...
Blip...Blip...Blip...Blip...Blip...BONK!
WHAT THE?!?! It didn't record??? Aw HELL no... It recorded LAST week! What the (insert long string of very naughty expletives here)
Well, it turns out after all the hailing and preaching about the Tivo and it's many wondrous features I've done, and praising it as the world's single greatest invention of all time, I neglected to learn it's single most important yet simplest of features: Prioritizing. Seems I had a programming conflict, and not inherently knowing my psychotic raging addiction to "Lost", my naive little machine defaulted to the first show on the list: Mythbusters. Now I like Mythbusters, don't get me wrong, but they replay those damn episodes 38 times a week, and "Lost" gets played... yup, ONCE! The only thing that saved my ass from being hurled through my television by Michelle was the fact that the website, as well as iTunes, will have the episode online tomorrow, albeit in tiny computer-window mode as opposed to glorious 67" widescreen. But much like a crackhead struggling to light the tiny last bits of ashes in his crackpipe, we'll take whatever we can get until next week.
As far as Tivo's concerned, "Lost" got bumped to the highest priority possible, and several Season Passes were deleted entirely just to make sure there are no future conflicts. Michelle will not be so forgiving next time.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Paul the Photographer
"Hey Paul!" you may be thinking to yourself. "What the hell's with the new banner ad on the side of your blog? Did you finally sell out and accept advertising for crappy companies in the hopes of making a few cents a year?"
Why no, actually.... but thank you for bringing it up.
You see, I found this great website. Actually, a co-worker found it and spread the news to all the artists of my company. It's a stock photography website you can search through for keywords and download images for a small fee, and.....
"But Paul, what the frig's so special about that?? Don't you realize there are thousands of sites that do the same thing? What the HELL man??"
(whistles..)
Are you done interrupting? If so, I can explain. You see, this particular Stock Photography site is member supplied; Meaning when you sign up, not only can you purchase and download images to use, but you can also upload your own photography and, pending approval, have people purchase your images while you make a commission. So, I've decided to become a member and start uploading pics, and the first few have just been approved! The banner ad links up to my currently uploaded pics for purchase, while the link in the "useful sites" section of my margin links to an area to become a member, while giving me a finder's commission for anyone who signs up!
In all honesty, there's a great selection of images available for anyone who uses stock photography, and much cheaper than sites like Eyewire or Photodisc. I encourage you to check it out, if for nothing else, to see my photographs! And don't forget to check back in every so often to see more uploaded imagery.
Why no, actually.... but thank you for bringing it up.
You see, I found this great website. Actually, a co-worker found it and spread the news to all the artists of my company. It's a stock photography website you can search through for keywords and download images for a small fee, and.....
"But Paul, what the frig's so special about that?? Don't you realize there are thousands of sites that do the same thing? What the HELL man??"
(whistles..)
Are you done interrupting? If so, I can explain. You see, this particular Stock Photography site is member supplied; Meaning when you sign up, not only can you purchase and download images to use, but you can also upload your own photography and, pending approval, have people purchase your images while you make a commission. So, I've decided to become a member and start uploading pics, and the first few have just been approved! The banner ad links up to my currently uploaded pics for purchase, while the link in the "useful sites" section of my margin links to an area to become a member, while giving me a finder's commission for anyone who signs up!
In all honesty, there's a great selection of images available for anyone who uses stock photography, and much cheaper than sites like Eyewire or Photodisc. I encourage you to check it out, if for nothing else, to see my photographs! And don't forget to check back in every so often to see more uploaded imagery.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
You'll Thank Me Some Day
I try to be organized. I really do. I have this inate need to have everything categorized, labeled, and easily searchable. Which is why I love things like my iPod: All my music, right there, no swapping CDs or tapes. I want a song, BAM! I'm listening to it within seconds. Or why I finally settled on Canon's ImageBrowser software to organize all my digital images. I want a picture, I know exactly where it is. So I didn't think anything of it when I decided to print and archive all the blog entries and comments from the Coffee Crew Blog, Steve's Thymenage Blog, Toni's "Much Ado" site and the Encyclopedia Giachettica collection. In my mind, it was totally rational: A hardcopy backup of some of the best darned writing this side of the world wide web. I figured it served two purposes: One, is gives me a nice (albeit gigunda-sized) book to be able to pull out weeks, months, or even years later to reminisce over with my friends; and two: it's a physical backup in case something catastrophic happens, such as Blogger going out of business or terrorists blowing up the internet. I never liked the idea of all these masterpieces of literary genius (or even this blog) residing solely in cyberspace; it just made me nervous. So two trips to Office Max and $80 later, I now have a hardcopy backup of everything up to August. It was a just and noble cause. Until Toni questioned why the hell I would ever go through such lengths, and noted I was the only person she knew who would go BACKWARDS in technology and print a hardcopy of an online archive.
Sigh...
Some people just don't understand.
All I can say to that statement is this: What about people who use their fancy $200 cell phones to TYPE messages back and forth? Tell me THAT'S not pushing technology back! So there.
Now Steve, my blogging mentor, would probably love the fact that I'm into the blogs so much that I'd take the time to lovingly collect all the works into a single binder. But I would be remiss if I didn't point out the single flaw which would probably prevent him from trying the same thing: Anybody's comments posted after archiving are not included in the hardcopy, and that's enough to give Steve the shakes at night. I, however, am willing to risk it.
Sigh...
Some people just don't understand.
All I can say to that statement is this: What about people who use their fancy $200 cell phones to TYPE messages back and forth? Tell me THAT'S not pushing technology back! So there.
Now Steve, my blogging mentor, would probably love the fact that I'm into the blogs so much that I'd take the time to lovingly collect all the works into a single binder. But I would be remiss if I didn't point out the single flaw which would probably prevent him from trying the same thing: Anybody's comments posted after archiving are not included in the hardcopy, and that's enough to give Steve the shakes at night. I, however, am willing to risk it.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Mourning: 101
I need something explained to me. Maybe I'm missing the point, maybe I'm just a cold-hearted bastard, but occasionally while driving on the highways and parkways of Long Island I'll come across a makeshift memorial on the side of the road, flowers and signs and whatnot, honoring someone who presumably lost their life in an accident at that very site; and I have to tell you... I don't get it. Is it just a Long Island thing, or do people across the country feel the need to make public highways they're own little shrine to the deceased? Honestly, I'm really not that calloused, and no, I've never lost anyone in a horrible car accident so I have no right telling people how to mourn, but I just don't see the point. To me, it just seems, I don't know, trashy, like people can't be bothered with actually making a trip to the cemetary. With the obvious exception of tragedies like 9/11 we don't do that for anything else; my grandmother passed away in an assisted living home, I don't go to the room where she stayed and leave flowers every year, I go to her grave, that's what it's for: to honor and remember loved ones. Why do people feel the need to show everyone on their way to work that someone died at exit marker 3515 on the L.I.E.? One may argue that we need little reminders like this in our lives to remember our own loved ones and even our own mortality, and that may be fine for others, but I'll be just fine without the sidewalk shrine.
So having said all that, I'm officially going on the record to all my friends and family: If God-forbid I perish in a car accident on the side of the road, do NOT waste your time and money decorating the site with flowers and hand-written notes and signs; if you do I will haunt you for the rest of your life.
You've been warned.
So having said all that, I'm officially going on the record to all my friends and family: If God-forbid I perish in a car accident on the side of the road, do NOT waste your time and money decorating the site with flowers and hand-written notes and signs; if you do I will haunt you for the rest of your life.
You've been warned.
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