Well here I am up in the frigid north again, visiting the folks for Christmas break. So much has changed at home I hardly recognize the place. New doors, new bathroom, flimsy shelves erected just above my bed holding our family's entire book collection... I had visions of being woken from sleep by the entire collected editions of Stephen King tumbling down on my head. Fortunately those fears proved groundless, I was instead awoken by sundry miscellaneous noises throughout the house, all the things you forget about when you live (almost) alone.
Speaking of my better half, I wonder what he's up to this week, besides working and sobbing in loneliness. Without any factual gossip to repeat here I'm afraid I'm forced to resort to vicious lies... I'll work on some of those for next time. Right now I'm going to enjoy my first full day of vacation in the Soo by going out and shopping for really, really mediocre Christmas presents for my family. Perhaps some sort of fat pig....
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Dream Theatre pt. 2
Well with Cam tucking his tail between his legs and running away to Owen Sound I'm left with little to do and less to write about. I guess I could continue to post horrible things about him in his absence but my heart just isn't in it.
In lieu of, here's another installment of dream theatre: I had a crazy dream last night. Okay, so let me start by saying that about half of my dreams take place in the same imagined cityscape with numerous fictional but consistent landmarks. My favourite is probably the downtown section where there are at least two corner stores per block and I have lived in virtually every apartment building along the main street at one point or another. I have decided to name this place Dreamopolis. Well last night I got off the bus in the west end of Dreamopolis around the industrial district near the bridge. I had intended to transfer to another bus going somewhere else but I found my steps taking me to a building surrounded by a junkyard with a high fence. Even though it looks nothing like it in real life, in the dream I knew this was Proto, a place I used to work. It was around six or seven in the morning so no one was around yet; against my will my feet carried me inside. I immediately began to feel dizzy and sick, almost drunk but not as cool. I stumbled around trying to find the door and exited to find myself suddenly back in my own house, but things didn't look right. Everything was fuzzy at the edges and my eyes felt all grainy. I was still very dizzy and I think I might even have vomited a little in the dream. I got the idea in my head that I had fallen asleep inside my dream, I opened my eyes and found myself back in Proto still trying to exit. This repeated at least once more before I finally got away from there.
Immediately after this I switched to a dream where I was some character in a tv show visiting a doctor about his problem of dream elements appearing while he is awake. While he/I (the line becomes blurred sometimes when I'm dreaming) is explaining it there's a selective shift and the doctor becomes a character from some other dream. It's all very confusing to write down, but you know how things just naturally make sense at the time in dreams.
There's not really a point to this story, except that it was pretty weird. And it seems strange that my brain takes ideas from one dream is like "hey, that would make a pretty cool idea for a tv show, let's try that next." Well guess what brain, it was a pretty lame idea, do some more research next time.
In lieu of, here's another installment of dream theatre: I had a crazy dream last night. Okay, so let me start by saying that about half of my dreams take place in the same imagined cityscape with numerous fictional but consistent landmarks. My favourite is probably the downtown section where there are at least two corner stores per block and I have lived in virtually every apartment building along the main street at one point or another. I have decided to name this place Dreamopolis. Well last night I got off the bus in the west end of Dreamopolis around the industrial district near the bridge. I had intended to transfer to another bus going somewhere else but I found my steps taking me to a building surrounded by a junkyard with a high fence. Even though it looks nothing like it in real life, in the dream I knew this was Proto, a place I used to work. It was around six or seven in the morning so no one was around yet; against my will my feet carried me inside. I immediately began to feel dizzy and sick, almost drunk but not as cool. I stumbled around trying to find the door and exited to find myself suddenly back in my own house, but things didn't look right. Everything was fuzzy at the edges and my eyes felt all grainy. I was still very dizzy and I think I might even have vomited a little in the dream. I got the idea in my head that I had fallen asleep inside my dream, I opened my eyes and found myself back in Proto still trying to exit. This repeated at least once more before I finally got away from there.
Immediately after this I switched to a dream where I was some character in a tv show visiting a doctor about his problem of dream elements appearing while he is awake. While he/I (the line becomes blurred sometimes when I'm dreaming) is explaining it there's a selective shift and the doctor becomes a character from some other dream. It's all very confusing to write down, but you know how things just naturally make sense at the time in dreams.
There's not really a point to this story, except that it was pretty weird. And it seems strange that my brain takes ideas from one dream is like "hey, that would make a pretty cool idea for a tv show, let's try that next." Well guess what brain, it was a pretty lame idea, do some more research next time.
Friday, December 7, 2007
That's Right, I F***ed His Wife
Metaphorically speaking of course. I guess in the metaphor Cam's wife is Stephen Colbert's book "I Am America (And So Can You)" and book reviewing is having sex with. But what can I say? He wasn't satisfying her and she needed a real man/book reviewer.
Hilarious sex metaphor's aside though, everything else about Cam's re-review is atrocious. Just listen to this, "I agree with most of what Dan says in his review." What the hell does that mean? Most? I agree with everything I said, why doesn't he? And then he never divulges what these secret disagreements are! What else is he disagreeing with that he's not telling us about, huh? Very shady rhetoric.
Then he goes on to talk about some other books, one of which I read but never reviewed, and the other I've never even seen. Is he trying to prove something? Fine Cam, you've read more books than me, whoop-de-fuckin-doo. You still can't review worth shit/satisfy a woman.
By the way that "sweet sweet ribbon bookmark" he talks about? Fake.
Hilarious sex metaphor's aside though, everything else about Cam's re-review is atrocious. Just listen to this, "I agree with most of what Dan says in his review." What the hell does that mean? Most? I agree with everything I said, why doesn't he? And then he never divulges what these secret disagreements are! What else is he disagreeing with that he's not telling us about, huh? Very shady rhetoric.
Then he goes on to talk about some other books, one of which I read but never reviewed, and the other I've never even seen. Is he trying to prove something? Fine Cam, you've read more books than me, whoop-de-fuckin-doo. You still can't review worth shit/satisfy a woman.
By the way that "sweet sweet ribbon bookmark" he talks about? Fake.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Fig. 2 - Stephen Colbert
I've been asked by a certain someone (not Bill Cosby) to review Stephen Colbert's book "I Am America (And So Can You)". Since I'm used to doing most of Cam's work for him to begin with I agreed, in spite of the fact that I haven't done a book review since I was seven, and mostly so I could make fun of Cam in the process.
Onward.
Part of the reason Cam asked me to write this is because he has yet to finish it even though he bought it weeks (months?) ago when it first came out, and Cam is not by nature a slow-as-hell reader, so I guess that should tell you something right off the "bat." On a side note, stealing jokes is both easy and fun! But back to the review. If you've ever watched more than 20 minutes of the Colbert Report you know pretty much what to expect from this book, but without actually seeing Stephen rant and rave about immigrants and homosexuals it's really not the same. Sure there are some bits that only work in a print medium, but these are basically just the same gag as "The Word" (although oddly, the sidebar messages and other such additives almost always seem to come from Stephen himself rather than an undermining text presence as on the show.) The worst parts, though, just as on the Colbert Report, are the sections where other people talk. You'd think after pages and pages of Colbertian monologue you'd welcome an interruption even if it was by some made up "Common man" or another but no, they almost always fall flat. The book does have some good points though, don't get me wrong. When it's funny it's very funny, and when it's not funny it's painless enough. I mean, you don't really expect to be laughing constantly the entire time, it's hundreds of pages long. Now that I think about I'll bet the main problem I had with it was that I tried to read most of it continuously. Five or six chapters at a time. This is the equivalent of sitting down and watching four or five episodes of the Colbert Report in a row. I've never tried this but I imagine the effect would be similar. You become too used to his style and it stops being funny.
I didn't actually buy the book, Cam did, so I don't know how much it cost but I would be willing to pay somewhere in the neighbourhood of twenty dollars just for the sake of the "Abstinence Bases" and that's only half a page. Anyway, in conclusion blah blah blah etc. etc. Read the post again for a summary of what I said.
Onward.
Part of the reason Cam asked me to write this is because he has yet to finish it even though he bought it weeks (months?) ago when it first came out, and Cam is not by nature a slow-as-hell reader, so I guess that should tell you something right off the "bat." On a side note, stealing jokes is both easy and fun! But back to the review. If you've ever watched more than 20 minutes of the Colbert Report you know pretty much what to expect from this book, but without actually seeing Stephen rant and rave about immigrants and homosexuals it's really not the same. Sure there are some bits that only work in a print medium, but these are basically just the same gag as "The Word" (although oddly, the sidebar messages and other such additives almost always seem to come from Stephen himself rather than an undermining text presence as on the show.) The worst parts, though, just as on the Colbert Report, are the sections where other people talk. You'd think after pages and pages of Colbertian monologue you'd welcome an interruption even if it was by some made up "Common man" or another but no, they almost always fall flat. The book does have some good points though, don't get me wrong. When it's funny it's very funny, and when it's not funny it's painless enough. I mean, you don't really expect to be laughing constantly the entire time, it's hundreds of pages long. Now that I think about I'll bet the main problem I had with it was that I tried to read most of it continuously. Five or six chapters at a time. This is the equivalent of sitting down and watching four or five episodes of the Colbert Report in a row. I've never tried this but I imagine the effect would be similar. You become too used to his style and it stops being funny.
I didn't actually buy the book, Cam did, so I don't know how much it cost but I would be willing to pay somewhere in the neighbourhood of twenty dollars just for the sake of the "Abstinence Bases" and that's only half a page. Anyway, in conclusion blah blah blah etc. etc. Read the post again for a summary of what I said.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Final (Official) Review
Today marks the day of Cam's last official in-class review of his comedy blog. I'm imagining him standing in a darkened room, mini-spotlights on himself and a robed and hooded tribunal of judges. Frantically he attempts to justify unforgivable excesses, shameful shortcomings, and another pluralized adjective noun combination. The tribunal is having none of it, their stern indifference reduces all arguments to naught. In desperation he lashes out against the others who stand on trial, hoping that by exposing the atrocities of others he can make his own crimes seem less severe. With only seconds left before judgement is handed down he delivers a spot-on Demetri Martin visual gag: "I wonder how good the spotlight guy is..." he jigs left, fakes right, runs a few steps across the stage with a dear in the headlights expression then settles back to a relaxed posture and expression, "Pretty good," he nods in approval. Unfortunately only I get the joke because Viacom has blocked the video from appearing on youtube. Alas.
And so this chapter draws to a close. In the unlikely event that Cam's blog survives the end of his blogging class I suppose I'll have no choice but to continue as well, but I really don't expect that to be a problem.
Maybe I can finally move on to an earnest diary style blog. I'll post pictures of my cat and quote pop-punk bands that really get what I'm going through.
And so this chapter draws to a close. In the unlikely event that Cam's blog survives the end of his blogging class I suppose I'll have no choice but to continue as well, but I really don't expect that to be a problem.
Maybe I can finally move on to an earnest diary style blog. I'll post pictures of my cat and quote pop-punk bands that really get what I'm going through.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Almost two weeks
Hard to believe it's been almost two weeks since I said something bad about Cam's blog. Have I perhaps been scared away by the insanely high link density? I can't wait until it reaches critical mass, collapses into a black hole, and sucks the entire internet into itself.
Okay that feels better now, the shakes are passing. In actual news nothing at all has been happening.* I continue to watch the same shows, read the same books, play the same videogames, and skip the same classes. The only that changes is the hypocrisy.
*Strictly speaking this isn't true, it's just that nothing I want to share with the internet has been happening. Unless... unless you want to hear what I had for dinner? My policy is the same as his though.
Okay that feels better now, the shakes are passing. In actual news nothing at all has been happening.* I continue to watch the same shows, read the same books, play the same videogames, and skip the same classes. The only that changes is the hypocrisy.
*Strictly speaking this isn't true, it's just that nothing I want to share with the internet has been happening. Unless... unless you want to hear what I had for dinner? My policy is the same as his though.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
metacriticism, but not really
So I was going to make today's post a long and elaborately styled criticism of Cam's The Darjeeling Limited review but then I decided against it. The reasons are three-fold. Firstly, Cam already knows what he did wrong, and I'm not feeling cold-hearted enough to beat it to death in the public eye. Secondly, I don't want to invite return criticism from that source or any other. And finally, I'm feeling like ten pounds of shit in a nine pound bag today. I'm in no state to read through that post again and formulate clever and biting remarks about movie criticism in general and Cam in particular.
I must focus all my energies on psychically enhancing my body's immune system to fend off whatever plague my girlfriend infected me with. I don't know how she managed to sneak the black death into my food while I was staying with her, especially since we went out to dinner for 3 out of 4 meals, but rest assured I will be avenged.
I guess I should say something about Darjeeling before I go? Maybe? As soon as Cam and I got home from the movie I asked "So which one of us is going to buy it when it comes out?" 'Nuff said.
I must focus all my energies on psychically enhancing my body's immune system to fend off whatever plague my girlfriend infected me with. I don't know how she managed to sneak the black death into my food while I was staying with her, especially since we went out to dinner for 3 out of 4 meals, but rest assured I will be avenged.
I guess I should say something about Darjeeling before I go? Maybe? As soon as Cam and I got home from the movie I asked "So which one of us is going to buy it when it comes out?" 'Nuff said.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Failure is an Artform
So neither Cam nor I are writing novels this month, and I'm okay with that. I've learned something about myself: I don't care about nanowrimo. Screw them for saying that "some day" never comes for people who are going to write a novel some day. I've got to leave myself something to do after I retire/while I'm collecting fraudulent disability cheques and am unable to leave my house. If I go with the second plan I can write, like, three or four novels at least.
None of this is to say I've quit writing now. I've just drastically reduced the pace. At this rate I should finish my current story just before the human race is enslaved by evil cybernetic overlords. Maybe I'll put that in the epilogue. It's long been my dream to write a beautiful, powerful, deep, evocative, choose your own adjective, important work of fiction and then append the words "and it was all a dream" but having it end with a brief chapter on world domination by space-cyborgs might be even more avante-garde.
Also, now that I've made the decision to throw deadlines to the wind I feel much freer and more creative, I'll probably write more now than I would have if my major motivation was to grind Cam into dust, word count-wise.
None of this is to say I've quit writing now. I've just drastically reduced the pace. At this rate I should finish my current story just before the human race is enslaved by evil cybernetic overlords. Maybe I'll put that in the epilogue. It's long been my dream to write a beautiful, powerful, deep, evocative, choose your own adjective, important work of fiction and then append the words "and it was all a dream" but having it end with a brief chapter on world domination by space-cyborgs might be even more avante-garde.
Also, now that I've made the decision to throw deadlines to the wind I feel much freer and more creative, I'll probably write more now than I would have if my major motivation was to grind Cam into dust, word count-wise.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Bad Math, Worse Writing
So Cam and I are writing awful novels this month. We started yesterday and I don't know about Cam but so far I've only got 255 words of awful prose. I thought I only needed to write 1300 odd words a day in order to make the 50,000 word limit by the deadline but it turns out I'm even further behind than I thought. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say this is all Cam's fault. He's the one who suggested the idea to me in the first place and apparently he can't even divide 50,000 by 30.
But enough bitching, it's time to get proactive on this situation. I need to write three thousand seventy-eight and a third words by tonight in order to stay on schedule. This would be a lot easier to do if I knew what the hell my book was going to be about. So far all I have is two fantastically depressing and completely unrelated character concepts. And I'm not one of those writers who can spend three pages describing the exact shade of the drapes in Lady Witherspindle's drawing room so eventually something has got to actually happen.
Perhaps something will come to me inexplicably and without method. (Okay I can almost never find the clips I want so you should just imagine that some of those words in the previous sentence linked to a clip of Karen Eiffel and Penny Escher in that part in Stranger Than Fiction right after Kay figures out how she's going to kill Harold. Wouldn't that have been awesome?)
But enough bitching, it's time to get proactive on this situation. I need to write three thousand seventy-eight and a third words by tonight in order to stay on schedule. This would be a lot easier to do if I knew what the hell my book was going to be about. So far all I have is two fantastically depressing and completely unrelated character concepts. And I'm not one of those writers who can spend three pages describing the exact shade of the drapes in Lady Witherspindle's drawing room so eventually something has got to actually happen.
Perhaps something will come to me inexplicably and without method. (Okay I can almost never find the clips I want so you should just imagine that some of those words in the previous sentence linked to a clip of Karen Eiffel and Penny Escher in that part in Stranger Than Fiction right after Kay figures out how she's going to kill Harold. Wouldn't that have been awesome?)
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Subtle Irony, Guy, I Mean Jeeze
So even though only two people read this blog (to my knowledge) I've already been criticized by one, Cam. Yes, I wrote that name and didn't also perform the necessary actions to make it a link. And you know what? It felt good... I - I liked it. Why should I go to the trouble to link to someone who disses my blog titling scheme (having not even bothered to note the link between the previous title and the one before that - he could easily have won the random word game). And he just made me use the word 'disses'. As a verb!
But I'm not gonna let that get me down. Today I finished the final step in my co-op education process i.e. Rocking The House. My presentation didn't just go better than I expected, it killed. If everyone wasn't too self-conscious I bet there would have been standing ovations. Take that my sexy physics nemesis - all your good looks and ab muscles didn't help with your mediocre presentation skills did they? Well, maybe they did a little, I know I was pretty distracted. It's just so easy to get lost in those big blue eyes of his... sigh.
But I'm not gonna let that get me down. Today I finished the final step in my co-op education process i.e. Rocking The House. My presentation didn't just go better than I expected, it killed. If everyone wasn't too self-conscious I bet there would have been standing ovations. Take that my sexy physics nemesis - all your good looks and ab muscles didn't help with your mediocre presentation skills did they? Well, maybe they did a little, I know I was pretty distracted. It's just so easy to get lost in those big blue eyes of his... sigh.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Spoon
Okay, quick question
Spoon: one of the best bands ever? or the best band ever?
Can't decide? Go see them in concert. Friggin' amazing.
Anyway, after the startling unsuccess of the previous post I guess I'll have to take things in a new direction again. It reminds me of the random word game Karen and I (but mostly I, in all honesty) invented. Basically the first person thinks of a word and says it, and the second person must think of a random word which is in no way related to the previous word (or words if you've been playing for a while) or to anything you're currently seeing or listening to. If the other person can guess the mental process that went into thinking of your word then you lose. It's basically impossible to lose, I mean the brain isn't a completely random machine but it's pretty darn close. The game always ended when I became too bored to continue with it. Karen just has more stamina I guess. I tried to add a rule where if the other person can come up with a link between words that is at least feasible (within a limited time) even if it's not true then that would be a win condition, but Karen wouldn't go for it. She doesn't like adding new rules to established games no matter how crappy they are.
All of which is to say that it looks like this space is going to be about a different thing each time I post. The only common thread being the earnest, diary-style blogging that I know pisses Cam off so much. Okay two common threads.
Spoon: one of the best bands ever? or the best band ever?
Can't decide? Go see them in concert. Friggin' amazing.
Anyway, after the startling unsuccess of the previous post I guess I'll have to take things in a new direction again. It reminds me of the random word game Karen and I (but mostly I, in all honesty) invented. Basically the first person thinks of a word and says it, and the second person must think of a random word which is in no way related to the previous word (or words if you've been playing for a while) or to anything you're currently seeing or listening to. If the other person can guess the mental process that went into thinking of your word then you lose. It's basically impossible to lose, I mean the brain isn't a completely random machine but it's pretty darn close. The game always ended when I became too bored to continue with it. Karen just has more stamina I guess. I tried to add a rule where if the other person can come up with a link between words that is at least feasible (within a limited time) even if it's not true then that would be a win condition, but Karen wouldn't go for it. She doesn't like adding new rules to established games no matter how crappy they are.
All of which is to say that it looks like this space is going to be about a different thing each time I post. The only common thread being the earnest, diary-style blogging that I know pisses Cam off so much. Okay two common threads.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Dream Theatre
Okay, I did have a really great idea for this post, I came up with it the other night while walking to the overpass with Cam. Unfortunately it shrivelled under the twin suns of decency and hydrogen/helium. You see, when Cam has been drinking and I have been awake for enough hours to passably simulate it 'great' often means criminally tasteless and so bitterly sarcastic as to be considered 'cruel.' After thus building it up it couldn't possibly live up to expectations anyway but feel free to approach me (or possibly Cam, but I make no guarantees) in person for a synopsis of the gag. Check your righteous indignation at the door though, you've been thoroughly warned.
Having given further posts about Cam's blog the old college try I shall now begin with part one of my 434 part series "Better know my subconscious." In today's installment I shall describe two recent dreams I have had.
In the first, I find myself outside a hospital bearing a striking resemblance to a convenience store which was near my house when I was a child. In the dream I know that my girlfriend Karen is terminally ill inside this hospital and am debating on whether I should bust her out so that we can spend her last few days together. Since there is nothing the doctors can do for her in any case I decide to go ahead with it and carry her out to my car. (In the dream I have a car, at least.) As is my habit while driving I begin to sing quietly under my breath. In this case it's the song that begins "'L' is for the way you look at me" but that's the only line I get through because after that I am struggling against crying too hard to continue.
Compare and contrast this (in 500 words or less) with the dream I had the previous night in which Scorpius, Chewbacca and myself must brave the frigid landscape of a partially terraformed Mars in order to avert disaster at Site 2 of the colonization mission.
For any amateur psychologists out there trying to make sense of this I wish you joy of the riddle. I shall end with another reference to our beloved patron Cam, the only person I know whose dreams come ready-made with professional grade camera work, action beats, and jokes worthy of one of the better syndicated television comedies. In case he some day wishes to transform the work of his talented team of writers into something more tangible I shall omit the details but, suffice it to say, it involved Cam fighting a four-foot antagonist in a grocery store with hilarious results.
Next time: more jokes, less secrets.
Having given further posts about Cam's blog the old college try I shall now begin with part one of my 434 part series "Better know my subconscious." In today's installment I shall describe two recent dreams I have had.
In the first, I find myself outside a hospital bearing a striking resemblance to a convenience store which was near my house when I was a child. In the dream I know that my girlfriend Karen is terminally ill inside this hospital and am debating on whether I should bust her out so that we can spend her last few days together. Since there is nothing the doctors can do for her in any case I decide to go ahead with it and carry her out to my car. (In the dream I have a car, at least.) As is my habit while driving I begin to sing quietly under my breath. In this case it's the song that begins "'L' is for the way you look at me" but that's the only line I get through because after that I am struggling against crying too hard to continue.
Compare and contrast this (in 500 words or less) with the dream I had the previous night in which Scorpius, Chewbacca and myself must brave the frigid landscape of a partially terraformed Mars in order to avert disaster at Site 2 of the colonization mission.
For any amateur psychologists out there trying to make sense of this I wish you joy of the riddle. I shall end with another reference to our beloved patron Cam, the only person I know whose dreams come ready-made with professional grade camera work, action beats, and jokes worthy of one of the better syndicated television comedies. In case he some day wishes to transform the work of his talented team of writers into something more tangible I shall omit the details but, suffice it to say, it involved Cam fighting a four-foot antagonist in a grocery store with hilarious results.
Next time: more jokes, less secrets.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
In Which I Completely Destroy the Foundation of This Blog
Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam Sham Cam Cam Cam Cam Cam
In order to show my support for "Now That's Comedy", and to improve its technocrati(sp?) rating, I've decided to link it bunches and bunches of times. Now I haven't actually read what's there today, or any other day this week for that matter, but it's the superficial display that counts. You're welcome.
Since this blog is pretty much entirely devoted to the subject of Cam's blog one might wonder why I haven't read it lately. I figure that anything that was particularly funny I'd have heard already, seeing as how he writes the damn thing about 20 feet from where I'm sitting now. Cam already has a bad habit of forgetting which stories he's told me, I don't think I need written and spoken versions to add to the redundancy.
But that does leave the question of what to fill this space with. I must meditate on this problem and return when I have a satisfactory solution.
In order to show my support for "Now That's Comedy", and to improve its technocrati(sp?) rating, I've decided to link it bunches and bunches of times. Now I haven't actually read what's there today, or any other day this week for that matter, but it's the superficial display that counts. You're welcome.
Since this blog is pretty much entirely devoted to the subject of Cam's blog one might wonder why I haven't read it lately. I figure that anything that was particularly funny I'd have heard already, seeing as how he writes the damn thing about 20 feet from where I'm sitting now. Cam already has a bad habit of forgetting which stories he's told me, I don't think I need written and spoken versions to add to the redundancy.
But that does leave the question of what to fill this space with. I must meditate on this problem and return when I have a satisfactory solution.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
For Posterity
Can posts made earlier in a blog appreciate in value? No, no they can't. Even if they had value to begin with any copy would be virtually indistinguishable from the original. Furthermore there's no reliable way to date them, you have to take someone's word for it. For more unambiguous answers to rhetorical questions see this link. Unless this is the future and that link no longer goes anywhere. But if qwantz doesn't exist anymore then there must be much bigger problems in your crazy future dystopia. You should get to work on solving those before you comment on broken links.
Hey that brings me to a nice story on why this blog exists. Originally I wanted to blast someone for a comment they made on a friend's blog (my friend, not their friend). But then I thought that since I don't have a blog here to identify myself the comment might be interpreted as coming from him. Then when I thought further I realized that even making a new blog wouldn't really ensure he wouldn't be blamed, since he could in theory have just started a whole separate alternate identity in order to attack his detractors. That naturally started me thinking about the question of forging blog entries to invent a fictional past for this new blog, and when I realized I don't know how to do that I came up with the first paragraph. It should be possible though.
Anyway, long story short: I remembered I hate people who engage in petty internet battles and dropped the whole idea. Good story though, right? You know what you should do? Print this out, and then put it in like a time capsule or something so that hundreds of years from now carbon dating will verify that it is indeed a historic relic of the first post made to this blog. But only one person do that, otherwise all the copies will destroy its value on the future antique documents market.
Hey that brings me to a nice story on why this blog exists. Originally I wanted to blast someone for a comment they made on a friend's blog (my friend, not their friend). But then I thought that since I don't have a blog here to identify myself the comment might be interpreted as coming from him. Then when I thought further I realized that even making a new blog wouldn't really ensure he wouldn't be blamed, since he could in theory have just started a whole separate alternate identity in order to attack his detractors. That naturally started me thinking about the question of forging blog entries to invent a fictional past for this new blog, and when I realized I don't know how to do that I came up with the first paragraph. It should be possible though.
Anyway, long story short: I remembered I hate people who engage in petty internet battles and dropped the whole idea. Good story though, right? You know what you should do? Print this out, and then put it in like a time capsule or something so that hundreds of years from now carbon dating will verify that it is indeed a historic relic of the first post made to this blog. But only one person do that, otherwise all the copies will destroy its value on the future antique documents market.
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