Edit: See bottom
The other day I was minding my own business, idly passing through a number of xanga posts looking for an interesting read. Of course, those are tough to come by these days (except for yours. I always enjoy reading yours) so instead I had to settle on And-I-Love's latest diatribe (note: as an exposé, this post is going to be wantonly adversarial, and needlessly critical of this blogger, so I thought I'd make sure to establish an unpleasant tone nice and early.) The author was rambling on about some relatively ridiculous opinion on terrorism. However, being the ever pleasant and always polite xangan that I am, I responded with what I had assumed was a fairly benign and maybe somewhat constructive comment relating to the issues she raised in her post.

Neither harm nor foul there, I thought. Ok, it was bolded, but that was an accident. I wasn't rude, or critical. I simply said that a) terror couldn't possibly "change everything" because it wasn't new, it could only change the way you react/interact with world, and that b) if you let it change you in a negative way, the terrorists are winning. They want America to start acting overtly aggressively. This damages the US economy, destroys international presence and cooperation, and reduces vaunted American ideals to fantasy. These are not particularly controversial thoughts here. I think it's called "taking the high road," and we learned about it in Kindergarten.

Her response was as follows:

Whoa! What the devil, man! I didn't know this blogger well, but I had seen some comments she'd made in the past, and she seemed like a pleasant enough person to me, but now she was "yelling" and swearing at me, and calling me a terrorist sympathizing idiot! At this point I wasn't sure if she was even being serious. So, I responded calmly, and reiterated my main point. I wasn't defending the terrorists. I wasn't saying they were right, or that they should not be punished. Her post outlined a dramatic shift of her own worldview away from pacifism to violent response to terrorism. I was simply suggesting this wasn't the best way to ensure they didn't alter her way of life.

Ok. So at this point she obviously decided that I was the enemy here. I was still a little bemused by the situation, so I assured her I wasn't. I explicitly reassured her of this. Explicitly!

   

However, I'm no coward, and I don't respond well to threats! If she wanted to block me, fine. I was going to point out specifically that I thought that would be silly, and that I wasn't even really disagreeing with her. Basically I repeated to her the points I've made above to you. Think about what the logical goals of the terrorists must be, and how they can achieve them. They want to destroy the American economy. Killing 3,000 civilians doesn't do this. Stopping all economic trading by shutting down the market, stopping international travel by making airplane flights extremely unpleasant, and sinking trillions of American dollars and hundreds of thousands of American soldiers into some morass in the desert with questionable links to the Bin Laden in the first place... that does exactly what they want! By responding to terror by being terrorized, and by completely reversing your position on all the freedoms you are claiming to defend, you've kind of failed to find a legitimate method of combating terrorism in the first place. However, I wasn't supporting terrorists or terrorism. I wasn't claiming Al Qaeda was right, or even suggesting that modern terror is somewhat the fault of American foreign policy that has forced marginalized people to respond to overwhelming force in the only way they can. Those views might be controversial. Those views might cause drama. Which wasn't my goal! Instead, I was simply suggesting what I thought would be the best way to beat those dastardly terrorists! Her response, then, must surely recognize my eminent sensibility?

Ah. Well, apparently no it didn't. By not responding to a rhetorical question in a quagmire of crazy bat guano, I was proving myself a terrorist after all! Holy prattling paranoia, batman! If only I had known. Apparently, I was claiming jihad was a worthy ideal! I wish somebody had told me that sooner. I'd have printed it on a tee-shirt. But no, apparently not telling some random stranger on the internet where I live makes me dodgy. And the enemy of freedom, or something. By this point, I began to suspect that, despite her veneer of respectable mediocrity, And-I-Love was actually crazier than front-wheel-drive  (where's the handling?!) so I thought it was time to end it. Thus, I typed out this response:

...only to find out she had blocked me. Well then.

I suppose there wasn't really much left to say. Therefore, I think I'll now take the opportunity to attack her character for a little while. I know I've used the word a number of times already while describing her, but mediocrity fits her blog to a tee. And-I-Love, or Loonsounds as I believe she was previously called (unless I'm mistaking crazy crap bloggers) seems to have been wildly successful... according to some metric nobody but the xanga team can understand. In the last several months her posts have been featured a dozen times, and met with... resounding silence from the xanga audience, who obviously fail to understand the elusive but powerful allure of lists on cat people. (I'd find you specific numbers and links, but I just can't be arsed to file through crap to find more crap). However, I can tell you that her most recently featured post (on... holding hands...) has received 4957 views, while the featured post directly before her has 11681, and the one after her has 12454.

In fact, the nearly unfathamable qualities of her work have been so difficult to perceive that many have begun to suspect she's sleeping with somebody on the Xanga team. John, perhaps. Which, let's face it, would mean that he's gone both blind and deaf. Either way, this loon clearly needs to be euthanised. And quickly, before she breeds and her mediocrity spreads (there's that word again, but it's the last time, I promise.)

I admit, I had really known next to nothing about this blogger before now. I generally ignored her entries as roundly as anybody else (maybe a bit moreso, for good measure) but from what I've seen in her comments she doesn't appear to be an unpleasant person. Maybe her insanity is the temporary kind. Maybe she just hides it well. Either way, I'd suggest we find somebody with a blind and a call. I'll bring the shotgun, and together we can make sure this fowl writer never hurts anybody. Ever again.

That is all. I await her stinging rebuke, which will no doubt also take the form of a top ten list.

Edit:
I was surprised but happy to see that the two of us remained nestled right next to each other on top blogs for a number of hours. Maybe there's hope for reconciliation after all.

Edited with all new content! Not just a gratuitous time-stamp! Just scroll down.

A few days ago momaroo published a post outlining the marshmallow test - kids were given a single marshmallow, and told that they could eat it now, or not eat it, and receive a second marshmallow in ten minutes hence. Of course, the test is generally intended to examine the critical thinking capabilities of children, as well as their emotional intelligence and self-control (adults are assumed to be capable of understanding the benefits of deferred gratification.) Naturally, the momaroo commenters missed the point of the article, and failed to discuss the experiment critically in any way. So, I thought I'd repeat the issue here, and see if we can also completely avoid critical discussion.

I suppose the experiment is designed to demonstrate the benefits of sacrifice, and all that. Expanded outward, societal construction and mutually beneficial interaction relies on a series of sacrifices in favour of long-term goals, and for individuals self-control (not buying those shoes, not eating that cake, etc) can plausibly allow for greater reward later. But I'm not sure I agree. I think the experiment is setting up a false premise - the idea of assured reward. In fact, we all know that doesn't exist. Who can really be sure that, if you don't eat the marshmallow, the experimenter isn't going to return after ten minutes and take it away from you, rather than give you another one?

Thus, in my professional opinion, I'd recommend always going for as near to instant gratification as you can achieve. Let's face it: you can't spend it after you're dead, so spend it now. Eat the marshmallow, and then steal a second one later if you're still hungry. Eating the marshmallow is the only way to assure that you get to eat a marshmallow. Everything else can change in an instant, leaving you with nothing at all. Screw societal construction. If you want that marshmallow, I say you reach out and take it.

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EDIT. Given the tremendous interest in Barack O'Berry soda/pop/coke (whatever you call carbonated beverages where you are), I went out back to the forest to take three all new pictures, included below! Enjoy.

In other news, I was given this beverage by a friend a few weeks ago:

I plan to keep it sealed up and then sell it later to a collector for millions of dollars. That'll be my retirement fund.

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And finally, before we say goodbye I'd like to remind everybody to check out my new formspring! Here's the link. I know you'll enjoy it as much as I do! Also, for those of you with nothing better to do, I also made an AIM! It's NIKBV2 (damn the bastard who took nikbv!) Add me, and I'll have one of my people chat with you some time.

A little while ago a xangan posted something about knowing somebody who lost their battle with cancer. I didn't want to offer anything other than condolences at the time, lest I appear insensitive, but there are issues I want to discuss. Whenever somebody is struck down by an illness, they're always called a fighter. Theirs is a battle, bravely waged, against an almost anthropomorphised disease. I wonder, though, what it means to be a fighter. The term is so prevalent, but I'm not sure why it seems to so positively affect our sensibilities. Does it simply mean to have a positive outlook? Is it just that we see optimism as heroic? Or is it made a virtue out of selfishness by the potentially bereaved? We don't want them to die, so we tell ourselves they are fighting to remain with us. Maybe it's simply part of the human mindset - ours is such a martial existence that claiming to fight something makes us feel less passive, less of a victim. Even if "fighting" doesn't actually do anything to affect the outcome, the perception allows us to pretend we have some control over our own mortality. I'm not sure. The entire thing seems rather disingenuous. What do you think?

 

Normally I like to use my xanga to write about nothing in particular. Small fluff pieces that amuse me. Generally, that's because writing about something important seems like a lot of hard work, which, by general philosophy, I like to avoid. But not today! Today I want to talk about a serious issue. An issue that really damn annoys me. God damn it.

What's the deal with supermarket baggers/cashiers who bag groceries? I've been to a lot of supermarkets, some cheap, some expensive. In fact, I go to both cheap and expensive markets on a regular basis, depending on my mood and need (a cheap one being a ten minute walk away and an expensive one being a ten minute drive away.) And as such, I'm in a very good position to notice a deeply disturbing new trend: they're not bagging food anymore.

See? They'll do it for Barack!

The cheap supermarkets have never bagged food for you. I understand that. Cheap isn't a derogatory term here, that's how they self-identify. Their food is slightly less expensive, and in exchange, they don't clean the isles, put out produce that isn't rotten, or bag things for you. I can get on board with that, because we both know what to expect.

But just recently one of the expensive supermarkets near me has completed an extensive series of renovations. Of course, in exchange for what have must been a very large output of capital, the supermarket has awarded us consumers with increased prices to make up for what is essentially absolutely no change in the shopping experience because of the new building. Except for one crucial difference: they're no longer bagging things for the shoppers!

I don't understand it. One day I come into the new store, and am expected to bag my own groceries. And the strange thing is, everybody there pretends it's always been that way! "What are you talking about, bagging? No, we've never done that! I don't even think I know how to bag! In fact, I'm not even sure I know what a bag is! Lalalalalala, I can't hear you!" And so now I have to put my crap into the bags myself, while paying higher prices to do so. What the hell, man. What the hell.

Of course, the other expensive supermarkets around immediately jump on the bandwagon, and no nobody anywhere will put groceries in a bag for you unless you have a gun. At least, I'm presuming that'd do the trick. I don't know. Anyway, I don't understand this. They're not saving money on employees, because the cashier is still around. And it doesn't save time, because I'm not a packing professional! I can't even pack quickly enough to get my food off the belt before the next person needs it. This is a stupid little bit of pressure in my life, but one I do not need. And, let's face it, what do I know about what to put on the bottom? My bread is often squished when I get home. And sure, I could try and learn, but dammit I don't want to! Just last month I didn't need to know anything about this, and I resent the fact that suddenly I'm being forced to learn a whole new trade.

I don't think I have to spell the point out for you. The stupid piece of crap cheap ass supermarkets have raised their prices, and cut out practically the only form of customer service they provide! And nobody except me seems to have noticed. Argh. I want to go punch something. Where's that stupid loaf of bread?

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And on another note, remember: nikbv is on twitter! Click here or on the image below to check it out.

People talk about smell all the time. Smell this, smell that. Smell your food, smell your friends and family, and forge memories that last a life-time! And that's fine, for those in the nose. But I think something about it stinks. Unodoriferously inclined people need an unscented sense. I propose sound.

You know, sound can actually be quite powerful! For some reason, whenever I hear the musical Mamma Mia, I am automatically struck with quite a powerful memory (of doing nothing of import whatsoever, I'm merely using a specific programme on my computer in a room I no longer inhabit). Now, luckily for me this doesn't happen very often, because I try to avoid all unnecessary contact with Abba music, but I think the point still stands: auditory triggers for memory can be just as powerful as olfactory ones. I just wish I could figure out how to create them. It'd certainly help me remember where I put the damn keys if I could simply whistle myself a cheery tune. I'm thinking Monty Python's Spam song. That way at least I don't have to worry about forgetting the lyrics.

Speaking of music, I can't get this song out of my head. How I love a good Russian folk choir.

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I love these old war posters (real or not). Anything for the boys, right?

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This entry brought to you by: The weather! It has kept me at home, and given me nothing better to do. Thank you, mother nature.

edit. preliminary participant list added at bottom

So November is quickly approaching, and we all know what that means. Nanowrimo! That's right, it's national novel writing month. Basically, for all those people who feel like they have a great idea for a novel that they hope to write "someday," this event provides the impetus to actually put those plans into action.

Over the course of the month, participants are encouraged to write 50,000 words, or the sum of a short novel. This is a simple first draft, and one that can be edited significantly after the month is over, but quality isn't really the point here, quantity is. Once that quantity is there, quality can be added later. The point is to start and finish a project of this size, to show the participant their capabilities, and give them the push many of us need to get started.

I first became aware of this when I posted a pulse saying pretty much the exact thing nanowrimo is designed for; I had a novel idea I wanted to eventually write, someday. Chow introduced me to the idea, and I was struck by its simple but valuable structure. Sure, I'm probably going to be extremely busy this November, but Kafka wrote his novels after the end of a full work day as an insurance salesman!

A large part of the success of nanowrimo participants (who get nothing but satisfaction and a newly written novel for their efforts) is support; other participants encourage their fellows by discussing their work, techniques, plans, etc. The nanowrimo website has a lot of ways to get into contact with local and nonlocal participants, but I thought it'd be great to have some kind of xangan nanowrimo group. I know a bunch of you are already planning on participating, but I've not as of yet heard of any real plans to bring xangans together to discuss their efforts, so I thought I'd do that here!

If you want to participate, or are already planning to, let me know! I'll edit this post to list all the xangans who speak up, and then we can all talk to each other over the course of the month. Check out the website here for further details, come up with an idea, and then rec this entry and tell your friends about nanowrimo, so you'll have as much support as possible! As they said in that Mad Men episode (which I've just started watching, by the way), I bet every desk in the place has the first ten pages of a novel in a bottom drawer somewhere. Isn't it time we finished them?

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Participant List:

(*note: in most cases, the nanowrimo website username appears second, after the xanga user name; e.g. XANGA - NANOWRIMO)

aibelfaeire - aibelfaeire

mooncatblue - mooncatblue

scribblemuffin - scribblemuffin

chow

dirtbubble - dirtbubble

roadkill_spatula 

nikbv - nikbv

So I recently noticed than an increasing number of news sites seem to be removing comments for many if not all of their "posts." Here at Xanga, comments are considered the highest measure of an article's worth (over article views, total page views, re-tweets, etc). However, other blogging services, like wordpress, don't have that same focus, and yet manage to provide some form of feedback or encouragement to the writer.

I understand that Xanga is a community, and that many here enjoy commenting others as a way to keep in touch. However, I think there's also a lot of pressure. Some don't mind leaving behind an asinine "great post" or "hah" comment, but others won't spend much time on a post if they think they can't comment on it, especially because people sometimes get upset about non-commenting lurkers.

I like receiving comments, sure, but I also read plenty of posts I think are just fabulous which I don't comment on. Sometimes, I just don't have anything to say, and sometimes I just don't feel like putting forth the effort.

Do you think that using the comment as the metric for success is an amateurish style? Does an entry with comments turned off (on xanga) or with no space for leaving comments (on other sites) entice or annoy you? Would you be more or less likely to read a post if you couldn't comment or read the comments of others?

...maybe you can help me with. My record player (phonograph) no longer auto-returns. There's no visible damage, and it works just fine otherwise, except now, obviously, I have to manually turn it off after the record finishes. Which is really annoying. Any thoughts?

(and yes, some of you might suggest I just get myself an mp3 player, but I already have one. The hard-drive had to be replaced a few months ago, the battery life-span is down to about an hour, and the interface buttons are on the fritz. It's a year and a half old, and the record player is maybe 30 years old.)

I think
we’ve known each other long enough now that I can come clean on something – I
don’t like being clean. To me, hygiene is a waste of time. Sure, every day I
frantically scrub myself down before I leave in the morning. Fine, I brush my
teeth after meals, wash my hands before them, and clean everything in-between
on a fairly regular basis, but the point here is I don’t like to.

Maybe so, but I don't have to like it.

To me,
hygiene is a terrific hassle. For some reason, I never got that habit-making
gene (even doing something every day for three weeks does nothing to me – damn
you, Oprah!) and every time I shower it’s a conscious struggle. Brushing teeth
is the same. Annoying, time consuming, and just plain uncomfortable. I don’t
know about you, but I don’t like to be cold, sopping wet, and late for work. It
bothers me. (And things may be different for you tropical Xangans, but it’s
cold here pretty much all the time.)

I tell
you, if I could swing it I’d bathe maybe once a month, whether I needed it or
not. Luckily for the rest of you, however, I’ve got too much of a social
conscience for that to happen. I just can’t let the rest of society suffer so
that I might be happy. So, every day I continue to wash, annoying as it might
be, all the while wishing I lived in the middle ages. Well, except for that
plague stuff.