Metaphors vs. Botulism

[hirez]

(Spam vaguely useful for something shocker)

Standards are clearly slipping. I was in the same room as quercus, we each had a sockpuppet, and yet no mention was made of the Usenet. (There was a reason mine had the visage of a boggle-eyed loon) For a laugh, I sent a picture of it to a complete stranger. I'll lay the blame at the knees of this 'having a life' business. And rightly so. Tolly Cobbold? Not 'arf!

Scientific proof for the popularity of LJ drama discovered. (Via asw909) 'Dear Christ' is the first phrase that springs to mind, since I have developed an unsurprising antipathy towards those who might feel the need to use terms like 'certain people' or 'person A'. Still, if I don't like it, I certainly don't have to waste good blood pressure on reading it. I have a watch for that. Sprightly conversion in Pontefract. No blame.

Dear Christ (2). As near as I can make out, some mouth-breathing wiki-fiddler gets a monk on with some other fellow who can write reasonably well, digs up the fact that other fellow sometimes punts out horror fiction on his LJ, so grasses other fellow up to the Florida Uni polis. What the fuck? A poor result for the baps this evening. Grease my pram with a donkey, you young scallywag. No, I went on my own.

A quick squint round the latest big-media feeding frenzy reveals a 'powered by Oracle' button. All a bit web 1.0 and therefore doomed. It's somewhat beyond me why anyone would move social sites. I mean, there's usually a financial reason why someone would move away from an existing mob of friends to set up camp in some new town. I guess that for some people, either their 'friends network' aren't friends (so, ah, why?) or they're the types who manage to collect enemies at a disturbingly exponential rate. (Here I should probably be listening to 'Songs about fucking' but instead it's Pan Sonic, who are weirdly like sections of very early Kraftwerk and an uprising deep within the Krell machinery. And a starship with a knackered main drive. Very excellent indeed.) Or (And?) they go somewhere else to reinvent themselves. Funny business. I'm Gerald and so's my car. Fishslice gentrified? Don't mind if I do.

Pause for a portion. You'll be lucky, you muppet. I'm staying here with the cool kids. It's the only language they understand.

Comments

I'm almost afraid to ask

[sarah-mum.livejournal.com]

You the 'Bat and sock puppets. How and why? There's a story in there somewhere.

Re: I'm almost afraid to ask

[hirez.livejournal.com]

We're both massive fans of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, obviously.

Re: I'm almost afraid to ask

[sarah-mum.livejournal.com]

That'll learn me to ask stoopid questions.
Pass me the mental floss.

Re: I'm almost afraid to ask

[hirez.livejournal.com]

It was a partly for Mr Tails.

[quercus.livejournal.com]

You, outside now and watch the fat bloke in the shower again!

[hirez.livejournal.com]

It's all gone a bit Mick Hucknall's Pink Pancakes...

[jarkman.livejournal.com]

I think some people like reinventing themselves. I'm far too lazy for that much invention myself.

Have I told you how terrible Vegas is yet, by the way ?

[hirez.livejournal.com]

Well, ye-es. But wherever you go, there you are. In that the reinvention always leaves a trace of the residual you, because your subconscious is better at being you than you are. Thus the reinventor is doomed to regular failure and/or psychosis.

No, you haven't. Was there no Robert Urich and no Sands hotel?

[jarkman.livejournal.com]

Yes.

Though, I guess, in the social-software world where you don't Actually Meet People there's a bit less of the real you and a bit more inventing going on, so the effect will be weaker.

There were a lot of men on posters with teeth so white you just know isotopes are involved. And no Sands Hotel, but the conference was, confusingly
(a) Inside the hotel in which I was staying
(b) Half a mile (I measured) from my room
(c) Had one toilet labelled 'Sands Convention Center'
(d) On the far side of a huge room in which men & women were persistently losing money every hour of the day.

They also had a funny little indoor canal, which could never be used for transport, and an amazing array of tat shops. I saw vast new realms of useless, shiny, expensive, ugly crap there. One can only respect the single-minded pursuit of shiteness that is required to bring that kind of thing together.

[reddragdiva]

Number two is a fun one. snowspinner is part of the Cabal, has been the bane of Wikipedia trolls for a long time, personally got several Wikipedia Review habitues banned forever, and they've been wanting to fuck him up as best they can for a long time. If you check the posts, you'll see he not only knows how to piss off just the right people, he knows how to deal with the consequences effectively. I predict an unfortunate future for the idjits in the ufl.edu bureaucracy.

[hirez.livejournal.com]

The idjits aren't the problem here, it's Fucko the clown who precipitated all of this. If anyone should be lined up for a richly deserved shoeing, it's him/her/it.

[reddragdiva]

It's various Fuckos the Clown. Doctorow didn't make this very clear - he makes it look like a writers' tiff. Must drop him a note.

[hirez.livejournal.com]

Gosh, well. Imagine my surprise.

[markeris.livejournal.com]

combining both of your dear christs. Some while back I posted a piece of short fiction, admittedly without announcing that I was doing some creative writing instead of ranting. Said piece of fiction effectively culminated in the protagonist killing random women in search of an appendix that reminded him of that of his lost loves. I received a string of "chin ups" and "*hugs*" for my efforts. I was less disturbed by people reading it as a common or garden post than I was that having done so that they HADN`T called the rozzers.

Scientifically valid empirical evidence that no-one pays attention to me, or that if they do they haven`t got the faintest clue what I`m wittering on about. I should really use this fact with evil intent now I think about it.

[hirez.livejournal.com]

A successful mixing of internal and external realities. Well played!