Okay, so I go out to get the morning paper, only there is no morning paper because I only get the paper delivered Thursday through Sunday. So that just sucks for two obvious reasons: I don't know what day it is and even if I did there would still be no paper. This is awful is what I thought as I stood outside, pretending to pick weeds because my neighbor across the street saw me and what was I going to do? Yell "I don't know what day it is?" So I picked weeds because it at least looked like I had something productive to do, and hardly anyone accuses people who pick weeds of not knowing what day it is. I say "hardly" because in truth this is just a guess. Maybe everyone (except me) looks at weed-pullers and thinks "poor sap probably doesn't even know what day it is."
Now, this last thought really, really bothered me. I almost went across the street to ask my neighbor to stop thinking I don't know what day it is just because I'm pretending to pick weeds. It's none of his goddamn business what I pretend to be doing in order to throw him off the track of discovering I don't know what day it is. The fucking nerve of some people is...is...nervy. These poignant thoughts were doing motorcross all over the folds of my brain when it struck me: everything is just really, really awful.
Now I don't even want to read the paper. As a matter of fact, they can take that paper and shove it up their armpits for all I care. Yep, things are bad. And if the paper people do as I suggest, things will be possibly worse and my paper will smell like some print jockey's armpit, which is awful. Really, really awful.
So, I go back in the house and think about walking to the corner gas station to buy a paper, which I don't really want to do. One of the reasons I don't want to do this is I have to say 'hi' to the really nice man who works there, even though he's going to give me one of those looks that suggests still haven't gone the full subscription route, eh? Well, it's none of his business if I don't want to go the full subscription route--they gave me an incredible deal to just try the paper out (the delivery of which I had recently cancelled) Fridays, Saturdays & Sundays for a really cheap rate and then about a month later they tossed in Thursdays at no extra charge. The whole freight was less than a pack of smokes for a month's worth of papers.
Okay, you got me, was what I told them. I am yours. Ah, but then they started calling me at all hours, like some nervous lover, saying "You know you like me four days a week, baby, why not like me all week long..." while really dragging out the "g" in long so it sounds like "longgggggg." That never works on me, that long "g" thing. It just doesn't.
But here's the thing: I need time off, you know? I need a little space between me and my printed news. See, I have this thing called a computer, and she follows me around the house, day and night, calling out "check your mail" and "Rush said something really fucking stupid today" and "Darlene wants your love" and you know how it is. So, I had Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays off from the paper, and I liked it. Only I cheated: I walked to the gas station and bought the paper on those days. I can't help it. I go out of the house, look to see if one of the neighbors is watching, and then I walk to go buy the paper, usually pretending that I'm on an important errand, like I'm going out to purchase anti-venom or a fire extinguisher.
But here's the thing: inside the station they add California sales tax, which comes out to four cents on top of the fifty cents for the paper. Now, I can walk across the world's widest street to the coin operated news box-thingie and only pay fifty cents for the paper, but that means an additional four minutes time (minimum) and risking of life and limb (value difficult to quantify objectively). And that's awful. It's like Sophie's Choice, only without the Nazis and Meryl Streep. Shit: really imagine Sophie's Choice without the Nazis and Meryl Streep and you get an idea of how thunderingly awful my life is, at least when it comes to the paper, and my goddamn neighbors.
Look, I often know what fucking day it is, asshole. I just don't know if I'm gonna spend fifty cents or fifty-four cents or stand here and pretend to pick weeds. Living on the edge, that's what it is. Riding the wave. Oh, shit, a car. I know what fucking day it is, okay, Miss Prissy Driver! Sweet Jesus Christ in a slot machine, I know the day!
Well, that's it. Just wanted to share.
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Thanks for sharing, MJS
Personally, I don't get the paper, but I hear the paper hit the door of the office upstairs, and when I hear it, I carve a notch on the doorjamb, so I can count backwards to a known day. It's a big door, though.
It's Tuesday.
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan
That's weird, same thing happened to me
except that it was my watch which betrayed me rather than my newspaper. which I don't get either so it doesn't get the chance.
the watch just lacks the capacity to cope with months other than 31 days long. Of course the fact that it took me 10 days to notice that it was a day slow says something about me as well. I choose not to think about this.
Sigh. ont a lees vaaren, doncha know.
Losing One's Shit
I did it today. I did it yesterday. All I need is the smallest kindness, or I think about my beautiful chillins, and I think, what was I upset about, again?
Your neighbor sounds like the biggest fucknozzle ever - pick some pretty weeds, pretend they are flowers, walk over as though to present a bouquet, and toss them in his ass face. Who the hell is he to question whether or not you know what day it is?
Things are awful. I am lucky not to be put in a position where killing Iraqi civilians seems like my best option.
I am lucky not to be put in a position where waterboarding a Tunisian turned in for a bounty seems like my best option.
I am lucky that it didn't occur to me today to harass a middle-class family with two horribly injured kids.
I am lucky not to live in Burma, where they know a thing or two about repression.
I am lucky I get to read the unexpurgated rantings of MJS.
And I am lucky I get to lie in bed at night with my darling kids and read them a book and tell them I love them infinity plus a hundred and two.
"A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead
Lambert, I sure hope you weren't making a joke about Tuesday
That's almost as bad as rhyming with Petraeus.
I know what day it is about as often as i don't know fer sher
but know where to check.
which is good enough for me.
the only day i ever really need to know is thursday, which is when the trash gets picked up...
Me? A Quick Study, But A Slow Learner
Reynold's Wrap meets Norman Rockwell
thb: the thought of you and your children at bedtime, snug and clean and bright, all in your little tinfoil hats, valiantly reflecting back to the taser gods whatever it is they are trying to beam into your sweet, little heads--I feel gooder thinking of such things. Way more better gooder.
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I guess I had an "off by one" error
I meant Monday.
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan
It's every day of the week
and any day you need it, if you phase into the appropriate frame of reference.
No Hell below us
Above us, only sky
Even Tuesday
just sayin'.
No Hell below us
Above us, only sky
Saw your comment on my old linked post, kelley b
I do hope future scholars try to figure out what this was all about.
Frame of reference, vasty
...and the unbeerable ubiquity of Tuesday.
No Hell below us
Above us, only sky
Did Tuesday weld itself onto Monday?
Tuesday's on the phone to me, oh yeah!
paper?
what does a blogger need with the paper?
ps whats with the fucking math problems to comment on this blog??? if i wanted to do math i'd be reading an economics blog!
i'm just here on a grant from the rockefeller foundation!
...hardly anyone accuses people who pick weeds of not knowing what day it is.
oh, sure they do. take my word fer it.
Now, this last thought really, really bothered me. I almost went across the street to ask my neighbor to stop thinking I don’t know what day it is just because I’m pretending to pick weeds.
you don't wanna do that! because your neighbor will become suspicious immediately and call the sheriff and him-n-the-boys will come and take all your weeds away from you - or take you away from all your weeds - probably both at the same time. And then you'll be sent off to ponder what day it is while hoeing weeds at Camp Lompoc. Just sayin'. Can't be too careful these days (no matter what days it is). Just sayin'.
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And the winner is...
what does a blogger need with the paper?
Matches?
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and the losers are...
everyone who burned those papers. because in 100 years all this digital crap may turn out to be just so much invisible ink (what day was it, there's a hole in my ether-net where all the history went). and then everyone is going to wish someone had-had the good sense to print it all out on the paper and hide it away in the attic so future generations could find it and read it.
less mismatched purgation...more better papers... more winners.
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rather...
so much disappearing ink. maybe.
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Since when
Am I supposed to care what day of the week it is? That's for peons who work and stuff.
The library has your paper for nothing if you really want one.
Ruth
Paper for nothing
Look at them bloggers
That's the way you do it
They don't write
On dead, bleached tree
Typing on keyboards
"Give us liberty" words
You got the paper for nothing
And your work is free
I built my new deck with my check from George Soros!
But I don't think there are any weeds under it. At least not when I last checked, on Tuesday.
So it's good to see the Rockefeller Foundation spreading the love!
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan
Do the math!
Skippy, we've got two choices:
1. Kill spam by queuing the comments
2. Kill spam with the math test
#1 means a time lag for comment approval, sometimes lasting for hours, and manual maintenance of the spam queue.
#2 means instant approval, and it turns out that the math test has meant almost no queue to maintain. As a result, the comment section has become livelier, and there's less work for us.
I do check the upgrades for the "captcha" that does the math test periodically, because I prefer word tests to math tests ("What is the color of any orange?", "What is the fifth letter in 'specimen jar'?" but so far that kind of test hasn't been implemented. The alternative to the math test is one of those pictures with distorted letters which, as a user, I hate because I often get them wrong. Also, some of the picture implementations are bad for people with vision issues, like color blindness.
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan
Weeding out the wingnuts
Heinlein, once said "only real humans can do math", a typical wingnut snotty statement Corrente is happy to turn around to weed out the wingnut trolls and spambots.
However, a sophisticated AI like Skynet thinks it's special, and will thus assure we are eaten last when DARPA fully opens the gate, melts the poles, and raises R'lyeh.
No Hell below us
Above us, only sky
Naw, Tuesday is when
the rest of the crew comes onboard, the phaser install is finished, and we have a medical staff.
Meanwhile, all this wonderful hi-tech goodness is ... a figment of somebody's imagination.
We can admit that we're killers ... but we're not going to kill today. That's all it takes! Knowing that we're not going to kill today! ~ Captain James T. Kirk, Stardate 3193.0
paper balloons
i think someone with the $$$ (like MoveOn for instance, Media Matters....etc) should do something like print newsletters of different blogger's best posts and distribute them at campaign rallies and on campuses and at book stores and all night laundry mats and so on... someone could even print a best of the blogs kind of bimonthly or monthly magazine which featured some of the best posts. Sell em, give em away, whatever... but bloggers would reach a whole new untapped audience that way. Especially now, with the primaries and the 2008 campain seasons coming up... just hand out newsletters at campaign rallies and events street corners etc...
Even a single Blog (if it could afford to do so) could print out some of their best posts on a periodic basis and give away copies at local cafes and bars and bookstores and student unions and so on.
try to reach out to all those people out there who never bother to look at the blogs or don't even know where to find them.
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That's a brilliant idea, farmer
Not only that, it would be a good way to join forces with local bloggers, as well. "Best of the blogs in the Great State of ...."
Hmm.... Advertising....
I just used the "Printer Friendly" feature of the book module to print out what turned out to be 100 pages on warrantless surveillance and with a better CSS file it would be presentable at least at no charge. It certainly looks as good as a 'zine.
The only cost, really, would be paper and distribution. Not so easy up here, the distribution. Takes a car. And print still seems more real to people.
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan
Anyone see "The Week" magazine?
Seems to be a relevant model. They have a good eye for digesting interesting magazine (including online magazine) pieces from the previous week.
http://www.theweekdaily.com/
Its publisher seems like a colo(u)rful type:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Felix_Dennis
Ruth
(Since when) am I supposed to care what day of the week it is? That’s for peons who work and stuff.
The library has your paper for nothing if you really want one.
Ruth
But if I did that then the neighbors will have won.
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broadsheet blogging
"Anyone see The Week magazine?"
yeah, i get that in the mail (and i'm not even sure why or where it came from but it just arrives). its a good example of what i meant. except The Week focuses mostly on the pros and the big shots and the newspaper and magazine columnists... tv pundits etc. so, the same idea, but with bloggers. production quality doesn't have to be as slick as The Week. I think The Nation is printed on recycled grocery bags. Works for me.
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Tinfoil Hat Kids
Never know what day it is, and even when they do, it doesn't mean much.
My daughter, now in kindergarten, always asks if it's a school night, because that's all she wants to do - ride the bus, go to school, have fun - and is often disappointed saturday night when we say it isn't a school night.
I will get a tinfoil hat family portrait some night - I will find a way to make it into a calendar and send to MJS who makes every day - tuesdays and wednesdays included - so much better.
One for farmer, too, on acid-free paper, for the attic archives.
"A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead
Printing the ethereal ethos
Such a magazine/rag could be called "The Literal Virtual" w/"All the Didge That's Fit to Print" on the sidebar...
Blogaminer?
Pillar to Post?
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I guess I'm seeing a PDF file
suitable for printing on a laser printer and distributed in the 10s or 100s, locally.
A database merge could handle local advertising from the distributors...
We. Are. Going. To. Die. We must restore hope in the world. We must bring forth a new way of living that can sustain the world. Or else it is not just us who will die but everyone. What have we got to lose? Go forth and Fight!—Xan