Posts

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SPAM “Success!”

From a “Free English Tutorial” site, this SPAM comment caught my eye:

“English language has grow to be a prerequisite for pretty much something that we do, from applying your favorite social networking web sites like Twitter and Facebook and generally working with the internet to applying for strong jobs. We all know how a great deal a second language can enhance our careers”

Yeh, about that English language tutorial thingy. . . Tutoring folks to speak/write at the (illiterate) level of most Mass Media Podpeople or 20-something aspiring self-pup writers isn’t necessarily a success track, IYNWIMAITTYD.

Pro tip: don’t give up your day job digging ditches.

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“Helicopter Nanny State” Wants All Parents to be “Helicopter Parents”

“Don’t Leave Your Kids Near Judgmental Strangers” highlights once again the evils of “No Child Alone–EVER!” societal/judicial constructs.

Frankly, I think parents who are unjustly harassed by nosy parker buttinskis should go on the offensive and sue ’em (defamation? Something like that), demanding p-sych evaluations, background checks, and more. Put the (steel-toed, spike-soled) shoe on the other foot. . . and give ’em a really swift, hard kick in the “fundamentals” with it.

Repeatedly. Until, they go away and stay away.

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Stupid Book Blurbs (for Stupid Books?) Level: Grandmaster

Here’s one that starts badly with the first word and goes downhill from there.

“Shalthazar the dark wizard came to Llars seeking power beyond imagining, and got more than he ever imagined.”

*doh*

I’m almost sorry I missed this book. (But, I wasn’t really aiming, anyway.)

I’m also unimpressed by blurbs that mention an “affirmative action” award–you know, one reserved for some ethnicity or whatever “disadvantaged” multi-culti “lit-ur-airy” Balkan state group author who can’t write well enough to win a legitimate award.

Oh, heck. ANY award not decided strictly by everyday, ordinary readers of the book is bogus. In that vein, book awards should be based on (actual, real, legitimate) sales, and, in fact, the only awards that really count are those that go into the writer’s pocket.

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About That FarceBook Thingy

FarceBook is. . . interesting, but primarily in the “that’s an interesting train wreck” way. I find myself drawn back to watch and even react to the various inanities, stupidities, and rare–more and more extremely rare–status updates that have any usefulness (apart from just observing “The Weird”). Heck, I’m not even all that interested in my “family” FarceBook account, since the only family I’m really interested in staying up with are my wife, kids and Mother, and I have face-to-face (or in Mother’s case, phone-to-phone) contacts for that.

But. . . “The Weird” draws me back.

And then it repulses me again.

The Stupid is also very powerful on FarceBook, and its practitioners are immune to mocking (Dunning-Kruger and a “safe places” mentality). Besides, mocking self-made morons–not born that way; self-enstupiated–isn’t really good for me in the long run. It feels soooooo good, but is sooooo wrong. . . or is it? Is NOT mocking self-made morons, just ignoring their obstinate stupidities, just enabling their destructive behavior?

I dunno, and more and more I care less and less about them.

But they are fascinating. Ah! I think I have it now! FarceBook is a 21st Century freak show! Small doses may be interesting, even amusing, but a steady diet of fake interactions with family, stupid “posts” and comments by self-made morons, so-called “memes,” and suchlike is just not productive.

Methinks a weekly check-in to see how things are going in the nuthouse might be OK, but a steady diet of the Freak Show would rot my brain.

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From News of the “You’re Kidding Me, Right?” File

Looks like someone is trying to hold a “Baptist healing service”. . .

One of the most amusing things I’ve seen recently in a product description was for a $300 buffalo-hide “fleece-lined duffle bag.” Supposedly, “New Zealand lambs’ fleece lining will help keep breakables safe when traveling.” Yeh, pull the other one. One would need an adamantium case lined with several inches of viscoelastic foam to even come close to keeping breakables safe from baggage handlers, let alone TSA goons.

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Ah! Those Dumb, Cheesy 80s Shows. . .

Sadly, even the naive cheesiness of most 80s TV shows is revealed today as simple “dumbitudinousness.”

McGyvver’s ingenious “inventions” are just as unworkable and stupid today as they were then. For me, McGyver was always moderately enjoyable as an exercise of my “suspension of disbelief muscle.” Things really, really do NOT work “that” way (whatever way most of his improvisational devices were supposed to work). . . *heh*

Star Trek TNG is still as dumb as it was then, though it lacks even the appeal of any serious cheesiness.

Etc.

The one 80s show that holds up even today is The Greatest American Hero. It’s just as dumb and cheesy today as it was then. Culp at least gave it a wee bit of (cheesy, of course) campiness. Oh, and it did have the picturesque (though lackluster acting of) Connie Selleca. There’s that. G-rated pinup girl for The Greatest American Hero.

But. . . there’s not much else that I find appealing about 80s shows today. In that, they share my evaluation of almost all contemporary TV shows: Stupid, without even the appeal of mockable cheesiness.

Too bad the Rockford Files stopped in 1980. If it had not, I’d have an 80s show to watch for something other than mockable stupidity or cheesiness.

Maybe I should only watch movies on our TV. Oh, wait. Stupid movies, too.

Oh, well. Perhaps I’m not meant to own a TV? No, wait. There are still good movies to watch, just not many made nowadays. Some Bruce Campbell “B” (or “C”) movies for camp. Archived copies of “Matilda,” “Johnny English,” etc. IOW, real classics. *heh*

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What?!? When Does THAT Happen?

Feeling a wee bit ambivalent. Disconcerted but thankful. Ins paid a larger percentage of ER bill for my Wonder Woman’s broken arm) than it promised to pay (on policy). How often does that happen?

(*scratches head and says to self* Don’t rock the boat, bubba.)

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Talking to the Dead

I have fun reading book blurbs of books I’ll never read. Take a recent blurb about a “cozy paranormal mystery” featuring two young women, “One a baker, the other a mortician’s assistant, and both blessed (or cursed) with the gift of talking to the dead. . . ”

OK, even leaving aside the stupidity of the supposed “gift/curse,” methinks the blurb writer should go back to Remedial Blurb Writing 101. ANYONE can talk TO the dead, or pretend to (or delude themselves into thinking they are). I’d not expect any real two way conversations, but imagining one is talking TO dead people is something many folks do. Not me, but others seem to do so.

But, if I were dead and just hanging around (although I rank that as happening somewhere around the Twelfth of Never), I wouldn’t stand for being talked to by some flesh puppet. Nope. Wanna talk to me? Buh-bye!

More seriously, what’s the appeal of necromancy, eh? I mean, #gagamaggot.