Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Thursday, December 29, 2016

Personality Test Results: I am EFNJ!

Sometimes it's eerie how close these tests can get it.


The Paragon of Awesomeness

As an EFNJ, your primary mode of living is cosmic in scope, where you respect your central position in the universe, and consider it an honor and your responsibility to keep it revolving around you in an orderly fashion. Your secondary mode is to help everyone else adjust to reality by making sure they are all clear on that same idea.

EFNJs, more than any other personality type, pretty much rule. They swoop through life putting everyone at ease with a lot of minor adjustments. They distract others from the grueling despair and emotional turmoil of day to day existence, just by being so incredibly sexy. Female EFNJs have eyes set on "stun" and a body that just won't quit. A male EFNJ's penis is very large, however, he will always humbly protest that it is "well within the statistical range for what's possible in a human."

EFNJs pretty much know what you want to hear, but they're not going to tell you what you want to hear just because they know what you want to hear. They respect you too much for that. The main goal for an EFNJ is to either make you understand how truly unique and wonderful you are, or "call you on your bullshit," depending on the particulars of the situation.

EFNJs are great listeners. An EFNJ will just listen the crap out of whatever it is you're saying. They'll keep listening, and listening, and listening until every drop of gushing feeling and every pulped juicy bit of meaning has been been flushed from your mouth, and sluiced directly into their ears. Then they'll ask careful questions that show they have grasped the key aspects and distinctions involved in whatever it was you were saying. As they respond with their insightful feedback, you'll feel yourself becoming increasingly sexually aroused - but this is not the EFNJ's intent. You'll also feel a growing appreciation and wonder for humanity itself, as embodied in this person with their easy rapport and their way of supporting and uplifting the sense you make - that's what we were after.

An EFNJ, if he or she is honest, will admit he or she kind of does enjoy a bit of conflict, now and then. Not necessarily that they enjoy a fight or an argument. More that they relish the unnecessary chance to show off how good they are at fighting and/or arguing. The EFNJ is not proud of this, but it is what it is.

EFNJs know what's right in any situation, but will refuse to tell you. That would strike the EFNJ as being needlessly judgmental.

Housekeeping can be a challenge for some EFNJs, since they often don't notice the mundane details such as a sink full of dirty dishes for weeks on end. In terms of personal hygiene, however, EFNJs smell fantastic and their hair looks great. How all of that is accomplished is none of your god-damn business.

EFNJs tend to be the most reasonable of all personality types, the most feeling, the most thrillingly creative in the arts, the most truly loving and loyal, the most skilled and empathic sexual performers (to say nothing of their nigh-godlike stamina when tact justifies and the situation calls for it), the rightest in matters of "common sense," and also almost preternaturally gifted in terms of grasping the most esoteric concepts of theoretical physics, for instance. Where they fail, though, is math. EFNJs suck at math.

EFNJs have an especially clear perception and keen appreciation of their faults. So far, that boils down to pretty much just the math thing. Zoroaster, Siddhartha Guatama, Chuck Norris, Jesus Christ and Teddy Roosevelt are some famous historical figures who would all readily admit to being inferior to an EFNJ.

Friday, October 14, 2016

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

I'm willing to do my part to address the patriarchal legacy of sexism.

I feel like as reparations for misogyny, enlightened, righteous men and women should volunteer to be sexually objectified by women.

Friday, October 07, 2016

The Clown Problem

Part of me is afraid of clowns. Not afraid, really. Just suspicious. It seems like a weird identity to assume. To what purpose? I am suspicious of the ulterior, potentially sinister motives of clowns. Why are they in clownface? Why hide their features? What's with the circus suit? On one level, this ought to allay suspicion, because after all - they stand out like a sore thumb in that getup! This isn't a guise to assume for purposes of stealth.

And it feels like it's a long time since clowns have been trusted and beloved figures. Nobody could reasonably don a clown suit in this day and age and expect to ride the coattails of some general clown-based faith and goodwill. You might as well dress up in a roman catholic priest garb. Maybe that goodwill used to be there, but these days "sorry." So I can't see the clown identity as itself sinister, or lending itself to abuse, because there's no residual goodwill left to cloak their dark deeds under. If anything, a clown walks in everyone is going to be instantly on their guard!

But it leaves me wondering: why would they do it? Why do they do it? Are they driven to do it? Are they driven to it in one of those tiny cars?

I suppose trying to rationalize and analyze this thing isn't going to get me anywhere. What I've got is some kind of deep-seated anti-clown bias. It's not based in anything rational. I'm not going to be able to discover and articulate a basis for it. Just the look of a clown. There's something about it I don't trust.

But another part of me loves the idea of a clown. It's the secret identity thing, maybe. You transform into someone other, who can do peculiar deeds and has a sort of societal stamp of approval for them, as long as you're wearing the getup! At least for the doing of recognized, clownlike deeds, a clown outfit does confer certain permissions. It's perfectly excusable to douse people with buckets of confetti, or whatever. People start, it's still a bit of a shock when it happens - but then they're like, oh fuck it's just a clown. Ok.

But if I were going to be a clown, damn. I would not make my makeup or my outfit look like THAT.

I'd be like a super-colorful member of 1970's KISS, maybe.

Wednesday, October 05, 2016

Humility's a habit

Humility's a habit we're all guilty of. We put ourselves down, cause we can't bear the love.

Tuesday, October 04, 2016

Applied Moral Relativism: Or, What's the Worst Sin in YOUR Moral Economy?

Moral relativism is a good thing, or it ought to be. By all means, let's allow all ideas into the discourse! But it seems many people use moral relativism as an excuse to say: "It's useless to talk about, useless to compare, because no final absolute can be discovered!"

This is ridiculous. This is not the attitude of a rationalist, either. This is the attitude of someone pining for a moral absolute.

Relativism allows, or ought to allow, any rational person to compare competing ideas and ideals based on their actual aspects, and evaluate their relative merits. By which I mean: their merits relative to each other. Moral relativism doesn't and shouldn't mean you can't say a thing is wrong. There's nothing wrong with saying a thing is wrong, as long as you can say what's right and show why. When you lay out your basis, people will share basis to compare. The value is in comparison of real aspects, and discussion of how competing values can be weighed - not some black and white conclusion: "fire bad!"

In the post title, I deliberately chose a loaded word: "sin" - partly because I'm a dick, but let's be frank: even the most secular conception of humanism holds many things to be sins, whether they call them that or no. Skepticism, too, has its sins. Science is much sinned-against, especially by its practitioners.

To believe an unsupported and insupportable assertion is a sin against Skepticism. Skepticism can advance its case as to why it is wrong to believe unproved assertions.

To falsify data to support a hypothesis one "knows to be right" is a sin against science. Science can give its litany of reasons and examples to show why it's wrong to jump ahead of what you can establish via the scientific method: via hypothesis, experiment, falsification, and reproducible results.

None of this requires any final absolute to exist. Relativism means it is possible to compare and judge things relative to each other, without needing to reference some absolute. The principles of skepticism and science are not absolute. They are based on demonstrable benefit. Because we can see the benefit they are based on, we can tell where a given violation may hamper us.

We don't talk about movies or beer as if final absolutes are necessary. "It's useless to say this pilsner is good or bad, when we have no absolute beer ideal from which to judge!" Pish-posh. We sample a range, the wider the better, so as to have a broad basis from which to judge. We identify various merits from this range of experience, some of which may be mutually exclusive, some of which are not. Then we sample and judge between the beers themselves. Judgment is based on what attributes a given person values, and what a given beer's merits are for those attributes. The person can state what they value, and we can know what they're basing their judgment upon. Merit is no more than an ability to serve specific, identified needs. For beer, one need may be refreshment, another may be intoxication. If additional aspects and limitations such as price are brought in as relevant factors, all these considerations together will form the criteria against which we judge a beer's merit.

We're not trying to create an absolute. We're simply trying to make a judgment based on aspects and quantities that can be experienced and known. It's a rational process. A useful process. What good are absolutes? When did we ever need them? When have they ever once been of use?

We have no problem at all with comparisons and judgments based on merit in all sorts of areas. So it is, or should be, with actions and the rightness of actions. A rational person is capable of seeing what can be seen and judging between, based on merit. Based on specific, identified needs being served. Even if each separate economy advances its own view on the rightness of an act, still we can identify the needs being served and we can judge between. We can identify the effect of an act or its prohibition, and we can judge between the views on that act's morality or immorality advanced by competing moral economies.

This is what relativism gives us. Moral relativism is not some wan surrender to apathy, with the hands-waving excuse that it is not worth discussing. It was the old absolutism that was not at all worth discussing. Moral absolutism quashed discussion, moral relativism makes discussion possible.

Moral relativism is what makes it possible for us to tell right from wrong.

Moral absolutism made it possible only to say what we've been told is wrong.

Relativism opens fertile ground for strong and vigorous discourse, wherein people are not afraid to advance their idea of right, defend it with reference to demonstrable effects and basis, and advance it as superior based on specific, direct comparison with competing ideals. There is no need within moral relativism to shirk from hard scrutiny between competing ideals.

In an atmosphere of rationality and relativism, a person advancing a given thing as right must be able to say why it is right. When one person's "why" boils down to a strong foundation of greatest benefit to those most in need, and another person's "why" boils down to "Arbitrary Unprovable Being said so!"...please, don't let's say we can't compare. We have a pretty good basis for comparison, there.

From this discourse, different people will come away differently or indifferently convinced of different things. This is no cause for frustration. Discussion can be fruitful, even if not everyone becomes convinced of the same conclusion. The more we talk about what's important, the more basis we have for understanding where we differ, and the more powerfully we are able to come together where we agree. The more we find we can't come up with an effectual refutation of another person's view - even if we do not agree with it! - still, because we have tried and found we cannot reasonably refute it, we will come to respect how they can hold such a view. The more we understand and respect each other's differences, the more we can work effectively and peaceably together on all the things we know most benefit us all.

And those of us who believe that mixed in with all the ideas there are, there are some ideas that are truly the best and highest of what humanity can strive for - the more we are able to talk about what's important, the more those best ideas have a chance to come to the fore, and persuade those most open to them.

Ideas about right and wrong don't have a chance to change the world if people take the attitude that they're not worth talking about. In the absence of absolutes makes it possible to compare between. The fact that everything is relative makes it possible to compare every thing, and judge it based on how it relates to whatever good you care to claim. You are able to claim a good, when you can show it exists. You can compare two goods and say one is better, anywhere you can show how they intersect with the world others can see.

Monday, October 03, 2016

Here's Some Movies Where I Don't Like That One.

I don't like the one where James Woods is supposed to be the good guy. Come on. We're rooting for him enough as it is! Making him the good guy, that's just overkill. Or something. Possibly, double-reverse-overkill.

I like the one where there's a shootout at the end, but I don't like the one where you think there's going to be a shootout, and instead the good guy and the bad guy make love.

I like the one where - wait, The Prophecy! I liked that one. But apart from that one, I hate the one where instead of a sense-making climax, they just slap a shitload of writhing special effects lightshow bullshit across the screen for five to ten minutes while people duck, dive and do frantic incomprehensible things, and expect you to be satisfied like it's the fucking grand finale of a fireworks. As if that's all you need to successfully conclude a fucking narrative arc!

Technically, also: Raiders. They originated it, arguably, but they made up for the bad example by showing us how to pull it off. I liked that one. Apart from those two, though, no.

I like the one where you see her tits! But I don't like the one where she dies right after. That's kind of bullshit. Another sign of the hegemony of the gosh-damn patriarchal/puritanical paradigm's sinister antinature program! Women must always be punished immediately for embracing the power of their sexuality? As a feminist I say: "FUCK" to that! Fuck it right in its puritanical UNISEX FUCKHOLE.

I don't like the one where the guy and the girl, and it's some big trumped-up complication, and all these ridiculous coincidences to keep them from figuring it out, and then at the last possible minute of escalating catastrophe towards their clearly-set destiny - they get killed by a truck.

I don't like that one at all.

Here's Some Movies Where I Don't Like That One.

I don't like the one where James Woods is supposed to be the good guy. Come on. We're rooting for him enough as it is! Making him the good guy, that's just overkill. Or something. Possibly, double-reverse-overkill.

I like the one where there's a shootout at the end, but I don't like the one where you think there's going to be a shootout, and instead the good guy and the bad guy make love.

I like the one where - wait, The Prophecy! I liked that one. But apart from that one, I hate the one where instead of a sense-making climax, they just slap a shitload of writhing special effects lightshow bullshit across the screen for five to ten minutes while people duck, dive and do frantic incomprehensible things, and expect you to be satisfied like it's the fucking grand finale of a fireworks. As if that's all you need to successfully conclude a fucking narrative arc!

Technically, also: Raiders. They originated it, arguably, but they made up for the bad example by showing us how to pull it off. I liked that one. Apart from those two, though, no.

I like the one where you see her tits! But I don't like the one where she dies right after. That's kind of bullshit. Another sign of the hegemony of the gosh-damn patriarchal/puritanical paradigm's sinister antinature program! Women must always be punished immediately for embracing the power of their sexuality? As a feminist I say: "FUCK" to that! Fuck it right in its puritanical UNISEX FUCKHOLE.

I don't like the one where the guy and the girl, and it's some big trumped-up complication, and all these ridiculous coincidences to keep them from figuring it out, and then at the last possible minute of escalating catastrophe towards their clearly-set destiny - they get killed by a truck.

I don't like that one at all.

Friday, September 30, 2016

PLUTARCHY: The Game of Global Rape and Plunder!

There should be a board game that's a cross between Monopoly and RISK.

Oh never mind. There is already. A bit ad hoc, and kind of confusing though. They're calling it "Riskopoly" - that's sound enough, I suppose. You can look it up. It seems to be more a fanfic slash boardgame than an actual product. They want you to use 2 boards, the actual Monopoly board and the actual RISK board! Heck, why not throw in Stratego at that point?

There should be a better board game that combines Monopoly and RISK.

It should be called OLIGARCHY.

Or if that's taken: HEGEMONY?

Or if that's taken, oh heck, the name doesn't really matter folks. Make up a word, and it will come to mean that if your gameplay's good enough.

PLUTARCHY. You can play as a military power, a megaglobal syndicate, or a rogue ideology. Better yet, each player gets to play as all three!

Over the course of the game, things can change. You might lose your military power entirely, and still win the game! Military powers have different goals, you can divest yourself of that (or of the syndicate business) and play all-out along only one line. Suppose you lose your armed forces, but gain an extra megaglobal syndicate? That's huge. Imagine if unbeknownst to the world - what if Coke OWNS Pepsi? Or unbeknownst to the world - what if Bayer OWNS Monsanto?

It would be a super-sinister development, with the powers-behind edging that much closer to Global Hegemony. Or whatever.

You can have as many rogue ideologies as you like, but everybody has to have at least one. Each lets you do different things, but liabilities apply as well - and your internal factions can begin to dissonate each other, if you're not careful to keep them divided, conquered and working separately towards your multifarious goals. Rogue ideologies include theocracism (there are a number of these in different flavors!), fanatisystem (same), absolutist relativism (only one of these really, the whole "all wrongs are equally false" deal - primarily used to undermine!), conspiriarchy, dogmagic orthotoxy, and more! Picking up two or three of these gives you a lot of flexibility to undermine, subvert, motivate and terrorize in a way people on the internet will be quick to justify and/and condemn.

Military power is probably best used sparingly, or towards areas where they don't have much media hookup. Of course, if you control enough of the media...you get a pretty acceptable risk.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Why You Might Want To Reconsider Casablanca As One Of The Best Movies Ever - What A Classic!

So because basically he's all "In one of the gin joints, in all of the lousy towns in the world - and then she walks in!" They had a history, you see, but you don't know that. You find out later. He'd already had a history himself: a real idealist, mercenary type. Running guns, participating in losing revolutions, he thought he was pretty much "all man" and knew the difference. But he had to take a little break in Paris, between gigs, didn't he? It must have been fate at hand, that day - because next thing you know, she meets this guy and they're being all coy and joyfully mysterious about their pasts. Drinking, smoking, implying sex, it was as if it was a game to them. A game they'd heard about before - no time for it, then. But now, it was a game they could both afford to play, because it was so plain they'd already secretly won. Somehow, by that point, what did the past matter?

As it turns out, plenty. He was kidding himself otherwise. He thought he was the one from the big dark past with shadowy crap in it, meanwhile she herself was just about as rough and tumble a revolutionary as he'd been - and worse, even more willing to sacrifice what's worth living for, even more willing to sacrifice everything for a hard, bad cause: whatever's right. Next thing you know, like a chump in the rain clutching a note, all the meaning in the world was running away and he finally realized that train wasn't ever going there. Somebody lied, or maybe somebody just didn't say the truth out loud. It amounted to the same thing: beans. One hill.

By then, naturally the only thing left with meaning in life was to go crawl to some Gottforsaken desert hole and act mister big shot in a white tuxedo jacket, play coy and mysterious with suave, brutal German honchos, wink sarcastically at the disgusting antics of that barbarous French sheriff, bandy a lot of banter with Sidney Greenstreet and assorted other characters, and then what? Everybody's sitting there by this point going, "the dialogue is delicious!" "How can this man possibly have so much savoir faire and yet care so little about it?" He can't. Nobody can. It's because they don't know the history. Then she walks in with it.

Ingrid Bergman was treated so cruelly in that movie, as you know. The story's famous, and as it happens, it goes that they shot both endings. All along the way - even in the flashback scene, where realistically she shouldn't have even been thinking about it! - the actress had no idea which man she's going to end up with! Much like life, really, but a cruel way to treat an actress. How's she supposed to describe an arc? When she knows somewhere out there, in the future, an alternate ending DVD extra has already happened - and was released. And was the real film, in that universe. And in that universe, everybody said "Ah! Casablanca. A slight film, a charming film, a film with wit and characters - not much heft to it, but at least there's a happy ending! That much is certain, those two were made to end up together, early, often, and ever after. What a piece of business."

And so she had no idea what universe she was living in. And she looked it! She looked like she came in from a better one, still had hopes of getting back there. But at the point of her crisis, she gave up on love for what was right. He, meanwhile, gave up on love because of what was right. That's also why he gave up on what was right, or had been. He'd found out by then what was worth living for. What's right isn't it. Not a broken man, just a bent animal in a white tuxedo jacket and a sense of style, both of which fit perfectly. And by then, she walked in.

God damn it I hope I never hear that song again. But if she can stand it, so can I.

I learned all those same lessons he did, when I first saw the film. And I was deeply moved because it was just a movie. That's what consoles us to these things, that's what reconciles us to movies. Later, I was sitting in a gin joint in some forsaken town in the real world, or what suddenly no longer passed for it: because all of a sudden, she walks in.

It's all a lot of history, and it never amounts to much. The right person got on the plane, that's all that matters. It took me forever to realize that the whole time, she didn't know who she was going to end up with.

Friday, September 23, 2016

Definition of the day: "terrorist"

A terrorist is someone who uses homicide as public relations, and is stupid enough to think this makes their cause look good.

Takes On: FOOD

Time to get back to basics: FOOD

Food, people, is one of those words that's just FOOD-NEUTRAL. It gives you the idea of something to EAT, but it doesn't really expand on that or fill in any of the details. Will the food be delicious? It might say more about you than the food, the answer you give to this next question: FOOD GOOD or FOOD BAD?

I think the human heart holds out hope that FOOD GOOD. Even though let's be honest, we've all had a lot of experience with the disappointment of a meal-gone-wrong. Or even a snack-gone-poorly. Does that put us off food?

What about involving FOOD in a sexual encounter, as sort of a playful, frankly childish maneuver? Don't play with your food, love. It's unhygienic, probably - although this may depend more on the FOOD factor than emotions do.

I remember the first time somebody brought my attention to the idea. It was my first, real love, you know - "X1" as I call her. Actually I don't! I just made that up, but I think I kinda like it! X-1. "Girl X-1." There oughtta be a manga. Anyhow, speaking of mangia, she goes "hey do you want to eat raspberries off my belly?"

Now this is kinkier than it sounds, because she knows what I'm really into is blackberries. Raspberries just seem seedy to me. But what are you going to do?

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Tough Topics #37-b: Slavery

The main thing people object to in slavery seems to be that it was racist. I wonder how the other aspects would play today, if the racist aspect could be fully and completely purged.

Would people sign up for slavery, if we could guarantee it were a multiracial institution with no race overrepresented, if we instituted strict requirements for clothing, nutrition, medicine, housing and humane treatment - a guaranteed decent standard of living, all you give up is your freedom? It'd be entirely voluntary: upon signup, slaves would first be sterilized, and owners would buy them from the government. It would be unconscionable to allow a generation of children born into slavery. That would ruin the market.

Would you choose a life of drudge work, no pay, no possibility of advancement, but at least you know you'll be clothed, fed, housed and taken care of? If you are like many people, you may already be choosing all the negatives from that list, pretty much. What price, hope?

One is reminded of recidivism. Prisons are drastically overcrowded and, we hear, dangerous places. And in case you don't know, people commit crime just to get back inside, where they know they're clothed, fed, housed, and to some extent, taken care of. Have recidivists been institutionalized - unable to survive outside?

Or have they just found that for the less privileged, the outside has become a crueler institution than prison?

Time to Take Pokemon Go to the Next Level. Who's With Me?

I want to get a PokƩmon cosplay posse together, dressed up in all different PokƩmon costumes and we go around ambushing these people while they're all distracted on their app.

Friday, September 16, 2016

What People Don't Realize Is #2

What people don't realize is, it would be a great children's picture book if a baby bee hummingbird got lost and was taken in and nurtured by BEES.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Tough Topics #31: The Intelligent Design Controversy

Another thing: those "Intelligent Design" people? Always talking about how "obvious" it is? Well how come they never point out how the vagina is almost the perfect opposite of a penis??!

I'll tell you why, it's because they're hypocrites. A bunch of sex prudes, refusing to even mention the best argument they've got, probably: creation's naughty parts. After all: come on! Could those parts have arisen at random? In tandem? Pretty suspicious, if so.

It's kind of a tipoff, how they do all these cartwheels everywhere to scrupulously avoid all the sex stuff like it was the plague. Like it was a pitfall, and they thought their name was Harry. Swinging on vines over quicksand and crocodiles, with all their nudity taboos hanging out, and their so-called sexual mores - meanwhile, a moray eel has a better idea of healthy and natural sex attitudes than these people do. Or most of them, anyway. I tell you it'd be laughable, if there were anything the slightest bit funny about how pathetic it all is. Trying to act all natural about it, walking around nude as the emperor's sweet patoot - but with the HUGEST FIG LEAF EVER on! Oh, of course.

Surrr-r-r-r-re. We totally believe you on that fig leaf, dude. We're so sure you need one THAT BIG.

Hypocrites.

Thursday, September 01, 2016

Taunts We Don't Know What They Mean #7: Bull?

"Buddy, you just opened a BULL SHOP in Chinatown!!"


Now.

That's a perfect example of maybe I ought to hold my boasts, taunts or even toasts a moment in mind before letting fly. Because after the initial incredulity, hostility, questioning-of-mutual integrity and everything else - we were both forced to admit that it worked out to a compliment for him! I mean, apart from the dubiousness of the whole enterprise, selling bull to the Chinese, which seems a bit exploitative - but clearly you want to be the bull of the shop, not the one who's got to clean up all the busted wares your curious customers have taken home with them, to put them back together broken-hearted. So much prouder of the pieces they carry out than what they had walking in.

I used to run a bull shop in Chinatown.

Interesting business. Customers are scarce, because we don't speak English. It's a bit of a ticklish dick move, that - "Don't patronize ME!" - seems to be the message on the front door sign. Unless that calligraphist has been making fools of our faith in her! Hey, maybe that's why people keep coming in? Depending on what those beautiful characters hung in the door really say, I'd be curious to.

What with the takeout business so brisk, we're thinking of offering delivery.

Friday, August 26, 2016

Unsolicited Product Service Feature Offerings #5: YelpFaceLinked

*a nice-looking, clean, bright professional office setting*

*singing woman carrying in a tray, walking towards camera with a small crowd of singing co-workers all gathering in and around towards camera. On the tray is a large RAIN BOOT in cheery 60's cartoon flower bumblebee rainbow colors*


(to the tune of "Happy Birthday to You")

"Get the fuck out of here. Get the fuck out OF here. Get the FUCK out, get the fuck out get the fuck. out. of herrrrre!"

*Reverse angle on: seated at desk, well-dressed, haircutted GUY who is getting the BOOT:

His FACE is bright, a wide, partly-openmouth smile but eyes also wide, wondering, unsure*


(NARRATOR)

"Not sure how your colleagues really feel about you? Try YelpFaceLinked. YelpFaceLinked is a platform for professionals to come together and offer unbiased raves, opinions, and personal takes on each other, based on real experience, of real people from real people. YelpFaceLinked: Where Transparency Professionally Goes Globally Social on Itself.

YelpFaceLinked is a professional-focused platform of YelpFace. YelpFace, Where People Come to Yelp Each Other Out."

During the narration, you see screenshots and pans of the functionality, and if you lean in and squint a bit you can read some of the comments. Good stuff.

Thought of day: Principled.

I refuse to get involved in a popularity contest unless it's rigged.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Thought of the day: unbeatable

The only thing that can beat the unbeatable argument is the irrational idiot. I am the latter. And I've got the former.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

That Word You Used Does Not Define Me

I was just thinking. I'm proud of who and what I specifically am. Adjectives? COOL. That's what a label is I believe. Generally, it's an adjective? And the converse as well: an adjective is a label. I take 'em all, each and all, case by case - fill up a case and ship me the labels! If they apply literally, I'll slap the patch on my sash and flaunt it as if it had merit. If they apply to me only questionably, I'll question, and we'll come as close to understanding each other as is pleasurable and convenient. If it's intended as an insult, I'll thank you for the compliment! It was after all, nice of you to notice, and I have to believe you spoke because you felt it was important that I hear. That shows class, and I respond with gratitude and humility. You compliment me! But if you clarify "no, what I just called you means you're dumb/weak/something wrong with you," well I'll clarify, as you didn't seem to get the point: I'm happy to do you the favor of showing you how mighty that weak thing you called me really is.

Next time, you'll use the word properly! In consideration of the fact that you met one once, and it turned out these people-so-called aren't all as pejorative as you'd been led to believe, by all those glamorous and ignorant rumors.

What's the problem with every label that touches me? Even just a bit! However slight, a kiss, a hit, a hit - if it's a hit I do confess it. You can't run me through with one of those things. What's all the indignation over? "You can't define me!" No duh, my sun! You can't define ANY one. You just noticed that now? You can't definite a person except with a 1:1 fit, because when it comes to people, we are none of us synonyms. If you look in the dictionary under you, you will not see me.

Perhaps the closest you could come to defining a person is to read out their full and unabridged name. And guess what: they make that name and live what it means into being. They wrote the definition. Not you. So no, you can't "define me."

Yet so what? When every word you use fits perfect square. When each descriptive word you pick hits dead-center apt, describing some aspect that I do in fact have. It's not impressive. We have an infinite quiverful of wonderful words, straight sharp shafts to fit to the strings of our tongues and let fly. And guess what? The words apply. They apply to you. When the apt word is chosen and the aim is true, yes. That label in fact pertains to you. And the labels you apply to me do too! Wonderful of you! Thanks again for noticing - my attributes and traits, and for putting to them one of the various well-honed, fit and fitting names we use for things like that. For shades that hair color, or swoops of bone structure, or graces of motion, or ever-so-barely-noticed degrees of eyebrow raise. You nailed it! Got me with an adjective. And it's so me. I think I'll keep it.

I am that.

Let's go celebrate, shall we? Because now that we agree, have I got a few choice words for you!

And believe me you won't mind much if at all. It's ribbons and medals all around, as far as I'm concerned - this or that bright colored swatch that flaps on one's breast and states what state we happen to achieve, or what classification fits us scientifically, or how others have expertly-assessed our artistry, as we backflip, stick the landing, curtsy and put a bow on it. Ribbons all around! Pin it on, pin it on pin it on me.

Every label you'd care to apply. That's just a bright, colored ribbon at the All-Species State Fair.

Although guess what? I was wrong. You can define me. Quite easily, in fact! But it's going to take a lot of pretty ribbons.

Them Eternally Puzzlin' Posers #2: Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People?

Why do bad things happen to good people?

Because good people exist.


Duh.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Trendspotting 2: What's Next For Anachronistic Alt-History Style Mashups?

Steampunk's kind of cool, but I think it's time we dug deeper into the antecedents that no doubt must have led to the steampunk revolt in the first place. That's right.

Steamdisco.

Video Game Idea #4: BOSSQUEST: The Embossening

There should be a video game where you ARE the level boss. I mean - that's such an obvious idea, probably there are already several takes on it, but if not, come on. NEEDS TO BE DONE. All you'd do is fucking sit around waiting for these shrimpy quick dudes to come in and try to beat you with their nimbleness, move combos and clever weapons. You'd be all "BUMP!!!!!!! Next."

Well, that's not all you'd do. Despite the perception of most Players, there's a lot more involved in being Boss than waiting around to whomp up on some pipsqueak chump. In between attacks from Players (by the way, when we say "Players," we mean "antagonist character, controlled by the computer but made to resemble the stereotypical player-protagonist of other videogames - right down to the godawful botched jumps and dodge-right-into-the-attack gaffes of the early and inexperienced comers! Players coming at you would show recognizably different improvisations, strategies, and other idiosyncrasies, just like a real Boss has to face), you'd have social time with your minions and various little interaction skits and jokes that would be (for a videogame) quite revolutionary in their fuzzy logic bot personalities, albeit designed not to pass as real people but to incarnate various quirky personalities of video-game underthugs. There would be internecine backstabbing office politics and rivalries to deal with, sure, and non-Player-fighting job tasks assigned that you'll have to juggle, but also water coolor chat, maybe parties with cake for some occasion - a going-away, a birthday whatever. All kinds of stuff you can imagine! The perils of interoffice dating, in a realistic major videogame badguy corporation setting. But don't get too wrapped up in it the milieu because - SUPRISE!!!! HOLY SHIT here comes another level-storming attacker! What the fuck, guys, nobody was out on hall patrol?! Everybody in the party, fuck. Real responsible! The stooges would scatter as much in fear of your wrath as in fear of Player - leaving you to meet the sneak attack at a furious disadvantage, but perhaps: fuck it. 

You're the Boss. Sometimes, that's the Job.

That's why you make the big bucks. Or whatever form of respect and satisfaction tokens bad guys get paid in, in their pixelated economy.

Character design would be a big key to the appeal. You can imagine the examples I'm sure. You want to push all the way archetypal without slipping over to derivative. You can't go wrong, long as it's got that appeal to it! A big hairy robot in diapers with an eight-month's pregnant belly and a jaunty beret? Sure, why not. Haun! Haun! Haun! Something memorable, something quirky, that's the main thing. It's got to hearken to the idea of what a Big Boss is and a Level Boss aspires to be, again, without blatantly ripping off any single game. There are so many fantastic ideas you could throw up you might as well just pick one and run with it, honestly. In fact, while the main Boss character would be so out-of-the-box kickass that everybody'd love to play it, you can also choose the choose-your-own full-custom feature if you like. People will come up with some FUCKED-UP Boss options, I assure you - and there'd be connectivity via online to share, so your great little self-made guy can go viral! Become beloved and infamous. A lot of different goals to be pursued in this game - but you don't have to, you can ignore the distractions and just focus on being as Boss as you like. Arguably you'll do better on the official scoring.

Gameplay would include a level-up feature that's not just a power-up, it's also a race against the clock versus the powering-up Players. You'd smack the crap out of all comers easy at first, but it gets harder pretty fast. The more you pound fuck out of the intruder with style, flair, brutality, etc. the more your points rack up. The worse the Player gets in hits against you, you're LOSING points (not health bar though - style bar). In short, the longer it takes you to beat enough Players to level up to the next level's Boss (with a power and size beef-up to suit - by the way, all this time you've been EATING the defeated players!), the quicker those incoming attackers are improving in power, skill, guile, and Ken. But then if you can make it to the promotion point YOU take a leap up in toughness - and you're once again easily trashing the initial Players who make it to you. Do it fast while you can, do it with style, do it with cruel taunts and psychological warfare - trick the Player into thinking they've got you cornered and them BOOM. SHITTED ON 'EM! There'd be some interesting attack and defense options, and a fast fun intuitive gameplay. You need every bit of it to realize your goal, and make it all the way to be Big Boss.

By the way, after each promotion but the last, you come into your new Boss Office and there's the previous occupant, now demoted to make room for your rising star - finishes cleaning out their stuff into a big cardboard box, walks past you grumbling, the usual sad story *sniff*. But then to get that final promotion, you have to battle and defeat the Big Boss yourself!

To Be The Boss, you've got to Beat The Boss.

And the real pain-in-the-ass of it is, if you and the Big Boss take too long battling back and forth...guess who's coming to barge in? THE PLAYER.

Which won't go real well for him/her, one suspects. But it'll be a hell of a strategy wrinkle for your fight!

PHASE-TWO SPOILER: speaking of interactivity, the next phase is we go massively multiplayer online, with real humans controlling the attacking Players, all dying to take down and humiliate Bosses and spoil their Boss dreams - starting out weak and playing their way up, against the competition of all the people playing Bosses competing to be the Boss of the higher levels! Rising and falling based on how they do, constantly beating back waves of aggressive players and trying to outmaneuver and outpolitic one's ambitious rivals. In an environment like that, making it to top Big Boss status of the server could conceivably win you the people's ovation and fame forever.

All-in-all, somebody's probably thought of, developed, marketed and sold this same basic concept, but I bet they fucked up and missed all the important parts. Should've called me.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

How Many Languages Does Han Solo Speak, Anyway?

Is it just a coincidence he speaks both Chewie and Greedo? Chewie, sure, he's had all the time in the world to learn. But Greedo's kind of an asshole. Not the kind of dude whose conversational delights are going to tempt anyone to bear down and learn a new language for the pleasure of participation. And: Han speaks Jabba, too? Jabba's clearly not speaking Greedo. True, in his own lines he's speaking human to them, but he clearly understands everything they're jibber-jabbering back at him.

Is Solo some kind of specialist in the languages of Tatooine (with a side of wookie for business and good-buddy purposes), or does he speak a comparable selection of local languages at each of the shithole planets he puts the Falcon into port at? We don't get the impression Solo lives in Tatooine. He's just soaking in the wretched atmosphere of scum and villainy at Mos Eisely, keeping an eye out for an easy score, meanwhile enjoying the jazz scene. He's not there to make a thorough study of tongues.

I'm not saying it's impossible for him to have mastered a few languages. I'm just saying it raises an eyebrow. It's a little convenient. Han's not the type you expect to put all that effort and study in, just to impress a few of these fringe species types with his thoughtful grasp of their beloved mother tongue. Especially given he can't be bothered to answer back in it.

The fact these different folks all understand Han doesn't seem too problematic to me. Realistically, everybody pretty much has to understand English. It's clearly the official State Language. These monocultural and definitely English-speaking Imperials who've been ruling this galaxy with an iron fist aren't going to foster some multi-culti polyglot paradise! That Trooper asks you a question, you better be hip to his jive talk. And I suspect if you can't answer in him back in something he can understand, you may find yourself up shit creek in Dagoba without a Gronkneik.

The more you examine it, the more peculiar Han Solo's love of languages seems. I wish we'd learned a bit more about this guy's backstory.

Thursday, June 09, 2016

The Tough Topics #37: Slavery and the Bee Crisis

Somebody once told me that in Japan, there are no bees, and so all pollination is done by hand. It turns out that's not true, but I'm pretty sure I know who steered me wrong and how it happened. She must have read something to the effect that "In Japan, pollination is done by hand," and took it to mean that it was done ONLY by hand. She then passed that tidbit on to me, in that breathless and plausible way she has, such that I found it amazing instead of merely incredible - result? I didn't look it up!

Now, it is true enough that in Japan, pollination is done by hand - but not exclusively, and not only in Japan. Japan does have bees. I apologize to any of you who I may have misled on that score, in the past. Blast my credulity! Blast yours too, while we're at it.

In the process of hunting and pecking around the internet to research this topic, I also came across an interesting and hilarious tidbit: an estimate to the effect that converting the pollination industry from bee-based to humans-only would cost a cool nine-hundred billion dollars.

Estimates like that are delightful to me, because come on. No way would it cost that much! There isn't that much money in the world! Push come to shove, they wouldn't try to spend no nine hundred billion dollars. They'd just bring back slavery.

Easy.

First: make it multiracial, of course. That would kill two birds with one stone, really. You do realize that today, people consider that slavery was wrong because it was racist? It's true! So we fix that. Institute quotas: no racial demographic can be overrepresented by more than 5 percentage points, in a comparison of the general population to the slave population. Once you hit that ceiling, anybody of that racial group wanting to sell themselves into slavery would be turned down cold.

Secondly, no matter what, nobody would be captured and made a slave. That's unjust. It would only be people who have consensually sold themselves into it, due to unpayable student loans, or to avoid a prison sentence, or whatever other reason. Maybe they're investigative journalists, and a little too gung-ho about it? Here's how it would work: they'd sell themselves to the government, and whoever needs the slaves would buy them from the government - sterilized, of course! You can't have slaves breeding. You'd be raising generations of children born into slavery, if you did that. It would destroy the market!

Thirdly, let's put some strict anticruelty laws in place. This is a no-brainer. There needs to be regulation and oversight to ensure slaves are being pampered with plenty of nutritious food, adequate clothing, clean and sanitary living quarters with strict limits on overcrowding. Economies of scale apply: clothing, food and lodging doesn't cost nearly as much as they milk you for it at retail! Cap the work-week at 70 hours at the absolute most, with provisions for holidays and reduced workloads for the elderly - I'm not sure what you'd do about the infirm. Perhaps they could tell stories or sing.

Point is, it's clear these solutions can be come up with. If you don't think people would sell themselves into slavery and not sweat the tradeoff, you may not be paying close attention to what life's like. Would you choose a life of drudge work, no pay, no possibility of advancement, but at least you know you'll be clothed, fed, housed and taken care of? If you are many, many people, you're already choosing all the negatives from that list. If you think people wouldn't willingly consign themselves to what they're already pretty much doing in exchange for a guaranteed standard of living, go "google" recidivism, why don't you. Prisons are drastically overcrowded and, we hear, dangerous places. And in case you don't know, people commit crime just to get back inside: where they know they're clothed, fed, housed, and to some extent, taken care of. They say it's because the person has been institutionalized, from years on the inside.

Wrong. It's because the outside is a far worse institution than prison, for many, many people. We will have no shortage of crop pollinators (among other trades), and it won't cost no nine-hundred billion dollars.

But hold on there!

Maybe the crisis won't end up requiring such creative measures, you say? Rather than change the very structure of how we view (or claim to) human life, wouldn't it be more prudent to not? And if it happens, won't the problem take care of itself, as all things do? Five or ten years after the agriculture crash, what we've got left will be - at that point - a sustainable population, won't it?

I have to admit, you're right, there. Some would argue, better to preserve our essential liberties for posterity, in that case - rather than trade 'em all away now, over some b.s. current-events crisis that ten years from now will find itself all taken care of. Isn't it time for us to cure ourselves of the stereotypical modern-era curse of shortsightedness?

Far and away the best solution would be, of course: bees. And plenty of 'em. Bees are better than nine hundred billion dollars that we don't have, or billions of lives lost to pandemic starvation.

Bees are better than slavery, too. Anyone arguing otherwise has something wrong with them.

Monday, June 06, 2016

Video Game Pitch #3 (I think): FUTURE SOCIOPATH

One time I thought a great videogame would be called "Future Sociopath" and you'd start out as a toddler pulling wings off flies and progress from there. You know how one of the common childhood backgrounds to violent sociopaths is torturing and killing helpless creatures? Lack of empathy? Etc.? It would be like that. Perhaps you could even boost sales piggybacking off the success of Grand Theft Auto by implying it could easily be a prequel.

Yes, we all know that the link between childhood sadism towards animals and violent, dissociative adult behavior has been questioned, some say discredited, and that there's little hard diagnostic correlation to support the claim, but the idea is pretty well imbedded in our web of pop culture pop psychology notions - and isn't that half the whole fun of videogames to have some fun with our collective myths?

Also, if we can get young people to play the game it could keep them from doing it for real. Sometimes, you really don't want Johnny to go play outside.

Friday, May 06, 2016

Tight Pants PSA Campaign Pitch

"Hi, I'm film and television actor Bradley Cooper. You know, tight pants aren't just unsightly and uncomfortable. They are proven to lower sperm counts, and could even be a link to increased risk of testicular cancer. DON'T BE A DICK TO YOUR BALLS."

There are a couple potential problems with this pitch, but I think if we can get Bradley Cooper those problems go away pretty much. It'd be a short, punchy spot. Get in, get to the catchphrase, get out. Arguably Bradley Cooper's not the best pick for this, as he's been quite a tight pants wearer himself, but in my belief it's always been in the service of the role. Anyway, a converted former offender can be a convincing pitchman.

People might object that the testicular cancer link isn't established or supported by anything in the research. This is probably true, but I needed two medical-sounding things. Besides, I softened it quite a bit with that "and could even be a link" bit. Nobody's saying any link has been proved. But if we can get these poor tight-pants culture victims to loosen up a bit and look less ridiculous, the ends justify the means to some extent do they not?

Really I just wanted a reason for the "Don't be a dick to your balls" slogan. That could easily catch on.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Offensive Generalizations #2: Patriots

Offensive Generalizations is a semi-recurring series wherein we here at Consider Your Ass Kicked! examine Offensive Generalizations, with a focus on what makes them so offensive.

"People in Boston like the Patriots."

This would be offensive to anyone, but arguably, it could be most hurtful of all for those in the greater Boston metropolitan area. Historically, economically, people in that region have (again: arguably) the best excuse for being Patriots fans. But it is nonetheless absolutely untrue that this negative and degrading stereotype applies to everyone in Boston. How do you think it feels to those who can't stand the Patriots, and who are constantly being lumped in with that kind of stigma-loaded association?

Imagine being the Catholic priest who's not into young boys. Imagine being the African-American who does not like the F.C.-food or the W-food. Now imagine hearing that stereotype your whole life, cringing and seething each time at the unfairness, sick of speaking up just to clear your name from an accusation that has never been true of you? Forced to choose between a lifetime of being looked at as the "touchy person" (or in the African-American example, the "person of surprising and inexplicable food preferences") or a lifetime of remaining silent, burning with the shame of being assumed to be a monster.

This is why stereotypes are considered hurtful and offensive. Yes, one of those assumptions is more injurious than the others. But that's not the point. The point isn't how horrible the thing is you assume about a person. The point is that by assuming it in the first place, you void that person in front of you. You void their individuality, their likes, their loves, their preferences and tendencies and passions and beliefs, and you say "You can be safely assumed to be just like anyone else like you." That person in front of you isn't a person at all, to you, when you do that. They are a specimen. Like a BUG. They are an example of their kind, which you seem so fit to class them as. They are an example of the kind of person who would rather root for the Patriots and fondle children than enjoy delicious foods.

Whether it's true or not, it's still an offensive assumption to make. Of anyone. Even if they are from Boston.

Educate yourself. Inform others. Be better than that.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

PRIVILEGE IS GOOD.

Privilege is good.

Be grateful for every privilege you have.

Use it for good. Your own good, and the good of others.

Fight to help others who are being denied respect, dignity, and an equal chance.

Thought of the day: Anticonformity

Anticonformity is just another kind of conformity. It doesn't make you freer to forbid yourself what some crowd participates in, you've just chained yourself out instead of in.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Thursday, March 31, 2016

It's Time For ALL Monks To Learn Kung Fu

Ritual can be taken too far. But even worse, sometimes ritual can be taken not far enough. Case in point: kung fu.

I am sick of OUR monks - monks of the Western monastic tradition, just as cloistered in their monasteries, just as fervent in their various little rituals and doings that they put out like clockwork as means of consecrating everyday activity and repurposing it as prayer, praise, meditation - folks, and here I specifically address all ye "Western tradition" folks out there - folks, our monks do the monk thing just as well as the Eastern tradition monks do.

With one glaring exception. Why have Western monks totally ceded the field on KUNG FU MASTERY? Zen monks have it all over us in this regard. Even Thomas Merton, so lauded for his mystical musings, always interpreting Eastern Zen thought via the light of doctrinally-sound Western Catholicism, never advanced beyond the rank of yellow belt. WHAT THE HECK, MY FRIAR?

The practice of martial arts should simply be part of what every monk does. Just like you get up at ungodly hours on the punctual dot, sing this then sing that then, observe silence, and brew Belgian ales. Practice and mastery of the martial arts is a meditation both physical and spiritual - or it certainly can be! To quote Ren McCormick, if there's a time for dancing and leaping before the Lord, why not Kung Fu? Which more quotes the spirit of it than what he actually says, but we're talking about deeply spiritual truths here, so: "Point taken, Ren." To combine rigorous and ascetic physical discipline with an attentive and humble spiritual mastery, one that can only be attained by who whom has leaned far enough into his or her being as to appreciate its limits, and transcend them even - by the grace of God, perhaps! At least partly. Why not? If martial artistry can't be a form of by-God PRAYER, then what the heck can be? Legitimately?

Our monks need Kung Fu in their lives. This fact is so obvious I can't even believe it has to fall to me, yet again, to say it.

As usual, I hate to blame the Pope, but there it is. Where is his holyship's leadership on this issue?

Come on, Padre. Don't put the "sin" in sinsei.

Jail, Internet, Opinions: What's Important Is Free-Association of Ideas #1

Look, it's a complex issue, or at least, some of it is. I'm not trying to say anybody deserves to be put in jail - but hold on there, let's be pretty honest with ourselves! Maybe there are some people out there, who if we really looked at it, ARE in jail. Does jail have the internet? If so, there would be THIS troubling implication: pretty much every internet outlet would be overrun by prison inmates, right? Hard time = free time. If so, that might explain a few things.

Let me just lay it all right on the line. Are any of you folks reading this from prison? Tell me what your thoughts are on the matter.

My main point, the bottom line, is: don't respect MY opinions. I sure don't. I'm in dead earnest on that one: I don't give a FUCK what I so-called "think" on any given topic. An opinion's worthless except to the extent it is examined, and the holder knows why they hold it. And my opinion is no exception: WORTHLESS. I mean, except to the aforementioned extents. But that's something that my opinion has to be able to prove - to ME, not to anybody else! My opinion's got to either put up or shut up. It better either pull its weight or else BAM!!! IT'S OUT ON ITS ASS, the second I find the one that better accords with observable reality! NO loyalty to opinions. Fuck those opinions that let me down, that have shown themselves less suitable than a competing opinion - whether because externally, they conflict with observable reality, or internally - they have the ol' self-consistency problem. How often does that happen, right? You're walking around with an opinion, all of a sudden you suddenly notice holy shit - it conflicts with ITSELF.

This is a real problem for some people. It's not for me, though, because I know how to tell those kinds of opinions to "fuck off."

Fuck those opinions. They can go pound sand.

Please note: while my opinions are owed ZERO RESPECT from anyone, please do feel free to respect me as a person. I mean, frankly I could give a shit about that too, because in practice I don't tend to notice? I interpret it the wrong way "Surely this person is joking, and it is in fact quite funny!" But in this place I try to tow the line, preserve the ambience. Your efforts along these lines are welcome, if not specifically noticed or appreciated.

Cultural Perspectives #9: FOOTBALL

I think American Football deserves the term "football" because those other punks all converted to the metric system.

They can call their shit meterball or something.

Monday, March 28, 2016

Rumored Projects "In The Works" #1: Pixar's Junk

Now folks, this is a "rumored project in-the-works" so take that with a grain of salt! A lot of these don't materialize no matter how awesome they sound, but that's our job as the public to spread the hype and the demand and make sure it happens.

In development now but slated for 2018 release: Pixar's Junk, a collaboration with Matt Stone and Trey Parker. It's set in a world ("In a world...") where all the characters are human genitalia, male, female, you name it - all lightly anthropomorphized with tiny lil' cartoony wiggly limbs, animated cartoony eyes and mouth, but apart from those add-ons the CGI technique is supposedly an absolute breakthrough in photoreal depiction. Even the little outfits they wear look just like real little outfits! Naturally there's a lot of subtext poking fun at stereotypes, prudery, cultural and religious biases.

The plot concerns an invasion of fist aliens with designs of their own on the populace. Rumored but not yet committed to direct: Brad Bird.

Anyway that's the way I heard it.

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Thought of the day: the bird

I'm pretty sure you can flip people the bird on broadcast television and they can't do a THING about it if you're wearing mittens!

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Harper Lee's Go Set a Watchman. Anybody Read This?

Has anybody picked up Harper Lee's new (!) novel? Relatively new anyway, it came out July 2015. Go Set a Watchman, it appears to be called. It's set in the same fictional universe as the movie Watchmen, and carries on the action about twenty years later when erstwhile team leader The Finch, long since retired to a position of prominence as an eminence gris in the superhero community, has to deal with the return of his disenchanted and equally erstwhile starry-eyed sidekick Scout Girl. I won't spoil it as to whether mysterious figure of fear Doctor Boo, from the first one, makes an appearance.

No I'm just fucking around! Apparently most of this book comes from a novel Lee wrote before To Kill A Mockingbird, out of which Mockingbird evolved. The editors liked the vividity of the flashback sequences from Scout's youth. Lee ended up expanding that part of the story into Mockingbird, and reworked Watchman for separate publication. Initially a trilogy had been planned, but when George Lucas got involved and insisted on the insertion of ideas about Jem "bringing balance to the Force," Lee became disillusioned, and abandoned plans for further release. The manuscript was believed lost until somebody found it.

Some people are pretty uptight about the release of this book. They see it as a case of a poor, confused elderly person being hoodwinked and manipulated into releasing work she wouldn't have wanted to. Other people are saying they interviewed her and that's not at all the case. Reviewers seem to think the book itself is a bit underdone to say the least.

Anyway.

Anybody here a big fan of Mockingbird? Any thoughts on this one? Have you read it? What do you think? I should shut up and let someone who has read both (or even either) of these books comment.

In any case, the emergence of this long-obscured work from its long obscurity, the storied story of its murky and convoluted origins, and - especially given the prominence of the earlier released work and its status as the author's only published novel, plus the fact Lee had declared a number of times that it would remain so - it's kind of a weird, unexpected sort of treat for Harper Lee fans isn't it? Or something?

Monday, March 21, 2016

Timely As Usual #4: Some Concerns About Snapchat

Following up on my recent expose of Chatroulette, I have some concerns about Snapchat that I'd like to be alarmist about.

#1, it disappears after 10 seconds? Could we make Twitter do that?

#2, how is this any different from just using your imagination?

#3, doesn't this just sort of make light of ADD sufferers? A lot of people with perfectly well-spanned attentions aping a deficiency! What's next, autocomplete with a stutter? Tourette's for spellcheck?

#4. expect to see some troubling issues involving copyright down the road.

#5. how is this any different from just standing right next to the person you message and then grabbing their device and deleting the message?

#6. I see potential for abuse here, such as if you get a snapchat image that says YOU WILL DIE IN SEVEN DAYS. Ten seconds later it's gone! How do you convince people of the threat? Also, how can you call off the curse if you can't show somebody else the image?

#7. The name's pretty cool. "Snapchat"! I like that. Much better than the original name, which according to the internet, was Picaboo. Too much like Picachu! Yet much inferior to Picachu - derivative but inferior is no way to go. By comparison, "Picachu" would have been perfect! "Peek At Choo"? Get it? "Peek At You?" Perfect! That's all you get is a peek! But "Picaboo," that's lame. It sounds like you're snapchat messaging to babies, which...let's just drop the subject, ok? That's just disgusting.

I want to make it clear I've never tried Snapchat, but a big part of that is because of all the alarmist concerns.

Friday, March 18, 2016

Friends or Superfriends? Beyond Tights and Capes: Where The "Shared Universe" Film Model Can Take Us

They should do a major motion picture spinoff called CHANDLER.

Then if that's successful, they follow it up with RACHEL, and build momentum towards an eventual crossover blockbuster.

Comedy Clinic #2: Anatomy of a Potential Risque Joke

Sometimes I find myself autoerotic, sometimes homoerotic. As a result I occasionally fuck cars.

NO WAIT

That could have been done even better. What's a stereotypical gay-leaning car, demographic-wise? A Miata? A P.T. Cruiser? What? That could be the "sweet double" on the comic call-back to auto AND homo!

This, folks, is an edgy comedy process in progress. You can see it's not really about stereotyping in an ugly, blatant, outlandish way - because in the finished joke, the slightly gay mystique of the specified auto would be, at most, a grace note. We'd get the reference, and we'd laugh because "Ah hah hah ha! Precious! I know just what he's trying to say here, with that, but don't ask me to explicate because I will be forced to demur!" And I can make these sorts of colorful references because I don't have a car, and am therefore a victim of the oppressive privilege of others in ways cars-drivers aren't equipped to appreciate.

Man, I need to break down and get a car at some point. Preferably a gay car so I can overcompensate for something.

She's a Silver Screen Deadpan Private Eye Femme Fatale Baby

I love people who are characters effortlessly, who are kind of aware of the fact that other people find them novel, but don't seem to get why everyone isn't the way they are. There ought to be a word for that.

And the word ought to be: NORMAL.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Monday, March 14, 2016

Thought of the Day: What's Wrong

I'm extraordinarily committed to what's right. So much so in fact, that I sometimes have to beat people up who agree with me.

Tuesday, March 08, 2016

Great Advice #5: Perspectives on Drinking Bleach

If you drink undiluted bleach, that's bad and definitely don't drink it. But if you do drink it, try to consider why you are drinking it. If the reasons seem adequate to you, re-think them. Don't make a drinking game out of undiluted bleach. Particularly if your diet is high in ammonia solids, undiluted bleach is no way to wash those down.

Apparently some people say drinking bleach is a good way to fool a drug test. That's dumb. That's fucking dumb, to take advice from somebody whose idea of crafty it is to compensate for all the drugs they take by drinking bleach. Consider the source of your bleach-related advice. Just because someone suggests some activity as something you should do if you've been taking a lot of drugs, that doesn't mean it's a great idea for you. People are different. Sometimes very different.

What happens when you find you simply must drink undiluted bleach, and nothing else you can do helps you see any other option? When that happens, call "time out." Consider calling up someone you trust, to explain to them what's going on with you. They may ask questions. If they ask "Why must you drink undiluted bleach?" - consider the question honestly and with an open mind. And if your explanation confuses or doesn't convince them, try asking them whether they think you should drink undiluted bleach at all. And if they say you shouldn't, hey, consider that maybe you don't always know all the answers? Maybe they're right! They've seen things you haven't, and are able to come at it from a perspective of hey, maybe don't drink undiluted bleach.

If you find you're drinking an awful lot of undiluted bleach and it's a habit you just can't stop, it's possible somebody has given you some other liquid, and you just thought it was bleach. Because if you drank that much bleach, you would have died. Chances are you haven't been drinking undiluted bleach at all. Still, to be on the safe side, find out what the heck it is you've been drinking, and consider whether you should continue with that.

Sometimes you just have to take a deep breath and allow yourself to say "Don't. Just don't drink undiluted bleach."

Friday, March 04, 2016

Tough Topics #36: My Whiteness. I'm Sorry But I Can't Seem To Feel Ashamed Of My Whiteness

Not sorry as in apology ("apology" is admission of culpability for wrongdoing), sorry as in, you know, sorrow. Regret. Actually I'm not sorry at all, thinking of it!

But you know what, I've been putting some thought into the idea that racism makes white people look bad. Or that accusations of racism against white people make white people look bad. Or that a person might feel accused by race proxy, when one of their race is accused. I'm trying to figure out why I have no sense of this myself. I THINK I HAVE IT!

I think rampant racism and rampant accusations of racism only make white people feel they look bad when they themselves aren't, for whatever reason, part of the fight. I mean, somebody wants to accuse me of racism, that's cool - first thing I KNOW is THEY are PART OF THE FIGHT!

And it's MY side bastard and WELCOME TO IT. Now maybe somehow I made myself look like a fool or an ass, or even a racist. I kind of want to know more on that. I'm kind of GLAD THEY BROUGHT IT UP. We can straighten out our accusations quite vigorously, and I'm confident at least both of us will end up on the side that believes in and advocates for human rights for all humans, and opposes strongly the ignorance and ill-effects of race-based bigotry. The part where I learn what I did wrong, if any, or what I did to give the appearance - that part is very much needed and welcomed.

How can I be insulted by a person who hates racial bigotry enough to call someone on it?

Whereas I can see that if I were apathetic or complacent or barely cared at all, or felt it was "not my problem" - well, I'm sure that if I believed humanity is not my problem, then there could possibly be some buried discomfort with that. And I could easily see how it would trigger that discomfort when the topic comes up, or when accusation's all around. It'd be sure to make me feel guilty. Not guilty of being a racist, but guilty of doing absolutely nothing meaningful - not even LIP SERVICE - to be part of the fight.

This is why racists, too, I suspect don't feel much of this "accused by proxy" thing. They are PART OF THE FIGHT. There's no reason for them to duck or deny, or feel buried guilt for doing nothing.

As the previous paragraph trenchantly points out, being "part of the fight" is not necessarily admirable in itself. It matters a deal which fight, and which part of it you take.

Thursday, March 03, 2016

My Political Position #6: Innovative? Or Revolutionary

Folks, it's hotting up again on the politics front, and so of course all of a sudden here I go.

As if to save the day.

People need ideas, because the ideas we have now are proven and they don't work. First I say we make the President the new Pope as far as America's concerned. There's precedent for this, don't worry. It worked perfectly. Also: don't worry, this will only affect American Catholics. There will still be the Protestant Fundamentalists and Assorted Others Etc. to "balance out shit" as per strict Constitutional requirement - but that's only phase one! Next, once that coup de gras is complete, you slowly water the "running things" part of the position down to a largely ceremonial role (apart from heading the CofA of course). We could even make the role hereditary at that point. Why not? It'd be mostly ceremonial for us by then, a way of celebrating our rich traditions. Ceremonial - like a rain dance! Like a love scene in a movie. Like wolf's howl - like a touchdown! It could be largely ceremonial.

To avoid confusion for the sake of consistency though, the Feds may need to "persuade" Burger King to call itself Burger President, at least in the States.

OR: how about President is a life-time position - but we keep electing more of them every 4-to-8 years? And then they can vote it out between them. This is an idea whose time is RIGHT HERE. It would be called Team President, or something. But to balance things, there'd be only one Vice President - and he or she wouldn't be allowed on a plane with ANY of them. That's because if one of the Presidents is killed (or dies of natural causes), the one and only Vice President is automatically elevated to President.

As you can imagine, this would pretty much make fascism impossible. I mean, unless the people deliberately spend twenty years electing unrepentant Fascist party candidates to the presidency! And even then it would be unworkable probably. Fascist heads of state aren't known for their "getting along" skills.

What's another one. How about we do what Portugal is doing? They had a sort of drug-lord based regime I heard, and now as I understand it, everything's much better on that score.

Another thing we could really take a clue from is the E.U. We need to see if we can woo the Dutch away from them, and then reconstitute ourselves as the United States of America and Dutchia.

Folks I'm on fire. Get me to the convention and I don't care which. When it comes to being an idea-man those people have NO IDEA.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Once You Start Making Up Your Own Chuck Norris Jokes, It's Hard to Stop Pt.23

Chuck Norris is immune to identity theft.

Chuck Norris doesn't look things up on the internet. He takes his best guess and representatives of Google, Wikipedia, and other internet fact repositories scramble to make it happen.

Chuck Norris can make ATM withdrawals from a pay phone.

Chuck Norris has been cast as the male lead in every major motion picture made since 1980. He just doesn't care to show up for most of them.

Homeland Security has a special watchlist just for Chuck Norris. He's the only one on it. Basically it's just to make sure nobody tries to frisk him at airports. There was an unfortunate incident.

If Chuck Norris ever decided to run for President, the other two parties would automatically rank 2nd and 3rd in the resulting 3 party system.

Chuck Norris isn't worried about any quantum physical phenomena above Planck length.

Everyone on the internet is currently being stalked by Chuck Norris.

If they had named the Titanic the Chuck Norris, the iceberg would have sunk instead. Thousands of lives would have been saved. Maybe hundreds.

Chuck Norris can beat Deep Blue at Tic-Tac-Toe.

Chuck Norris only worked up a sweat one time. He wiped his face on a towel, and when they found it later - that's the true secret origin of the so-called "Shroud of Turin."

Chuck Norris is considered to have invented sincerity.

Chuck Norris can eat a foot-long sub with a one-inch bite.

When it comes to snappy comebacks, Chuck Norris is the master of the none-liner.

Chuck Norris's name is right there on the VIP list for every exclusive event or establishment.

Before Chuck Norris decided to be a dramatic actor, he tried his hand on the stand up comedy club circuit. Whole roomsfuls of people died.

Physicists have been puzzled for years about the vast amount of invisible "dark matter" that their equations predict must exist someplace in the universe for there to be sufficient mass to account for observed gravitational effects. The key to this mystery couldn't be simpler. They're just looking in the wrong place: Chuck Norris is made entirely out of dark matter. Okay that one's just dumb.

Chuck Norris is automatically on everyone's "celebrity freebie list" if he wants to be.

When Chuck Norris cracks his knuckles, it gives other people arthritis.

The global population explosion is due in large part to Chuck Norris. Don't worry. He can also solve it.

Each U.S. citizen's share of the national debt comes to about $56,525.85 except Chuck Norris, whose share holds steady at $0.00.

Chuck Norris can take a lump of coal and squeeze it into kryptonite.

Chuck Norris doesn't have to brush or floss. His teeth just keep growing in like a shark's.

It's an old science myth that "according to the laws of aerodynamics," a bee can't fly. They actually can fly.

Chuck Norris volunteered himself as a substitute for animal testing in clinical safety trials, but it was a bust. Nobody was reassured that any given treatment had been "Proven safe for Chuck Norris"

Book Reviews #5: Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray

Big disappointment. I went to read this after seeing the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen - saw it in passing at a bookstore, grabbed it! Snatched it up. I was stoked to have in my hands the real-deal original story of Dorian Gray, the ageless, bulletproof, indestructible amoral scourge of Victorian London! I wanted to see a whole story dedicated to this one character, who in the film kind of has to settle for fourth or fifth billing or so.

Anyway. Needless to say, some liberties had been taken. Although the book is pretty coy over precisely which liberties.

Thought of the day: Trump

I'm not worried. If he wins, we just put a wall up around the White House until we can figure out what's going on.

Going forward over the years I'm sure a wall around the White House will pay for itself.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Additional Considerations In One's Continuing Band-Naming Saga

I should name my band "TBA". My fans would be so pissed off all the time. "Hey asshole, the paper says you're playing in six different places tomorrow night, which is it!?"

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

If There Wasn't a Law Against It #1: Gravity

If there wasn't a law against it, I'd look up in the sky until my body would rise, and my feet lose traction and gently slip free from the earth, and faster and faster through a rushing wind I would go up with widening eyes on one fixed star, heart beating faster, breathing ever deeper until the air thinned out into nothing - my streaming tears, drying into frost forming across my face and on my skin, as my gaze finally falls free from that one fixed star and my body begins to spin.

That law? GRAVITY.

Considering we'd all pretty much be doing that, I think a little gratitude for law is in order.

Except the people indoors of course! Those dudes could hold out for a while longer. Shut the windows tight, though - that atmosphere's going to be bleeding out the back like a motherfucker!

But the point is - GROW UP. Not every law is some big imposition on you. I bet we can all think of a law or two without which - life could get pret-ty inconvenient.

While I'm at it, it's important to note: nobody has any call to be offended by somebody telling them "GROW UP." That's just good general advice!

Tuesday, February 09, 2016

Here's The Perfect Understated Valentine's Pizza Trick

1. Get a take and bake pepperoni pizza and a paid of scissors
2. Snip every damn pepperoni into a love heart
3. BAKE AND SERVE

Easy.

Note: be sure to find out first if one or the other of you is vegetarian. If so, give it up. Artichoke hearts won't make nearly the same impact.

Friday, February 05, 2016

How to make the Deviled Eggs

Boil 'em, crack 'em, peel 'em, cut 'em in half pop the hemispherical yolk-halves out into a bowl smush mayo, salt, mustard and a bit of cumin (and pepper, if to taste) into it then scoop the yolk-fluff right back into the boiled egg bowls and BAM! Deviled eggs! And I was only kiddin' with the cumin.

Garnish with a dash of paprika of course but you fools know that.

I'm OUT LIKE TROUT, too!

I prefer to say I AM OUT LIKE RAINBOW TROUT

This at first appearance seems to work on several levels. Is he trying to say he's rainbow symbol invested? "Out" could convey the same thing, via an portal-based small-room architecture metaphor. Yet the clearest impact of the phrase is in the HUGE FRISSON it immediately creates between this sudden, shimmery, huge flopping SLEEK SEABEAST he's just landed in the boat - and his own seeming sly, winking, potential half-denial of what at first overpowering glance, would seem to be far less flamboyant-arc-in-the-sky fishy, and very much more LAND or GROUND-based massive shambling BEAR-WOLFBEAST of a MAN-style and most particularly in the famous, "straight-acting" manner of his, which is always very much in demand under certain headings in the Seekers Seeking Sought sections of your neighborhood free weekly, or its online version, and which is only reinforced by his shocking, unsettling EASE of rippling, hair-tigger predatorial MUSK-BASED buried, burly heterosexual muscles that sport and cavort under the rough covering of his TANNED, HAIRY HIDE as if to say: hey, how about it? A friendly sort of eager slob-tongued brute! So who'd have thunk he'd sling such a gay fish at us on his way out the conversation, so blithe? It don't scan. What's he really mean this time?

It's because basically, let's be honest. I'm a cocktease. That's why I like to throw the rainbow in there. And gay, too, as a dictional fundamental literalist like me must always concede, in his the Ye Olde Schoole Waye, turn brisk on his heel like a face-heel turn to skip, traipse, frolic and gambol away whatever credibility remains after a stunt like that, and then people are like SHUT UP! STOP! Are you OUT LIKE TROUT or NOT? THEN GO!!!

Because you know. Technically. You're supposed to leave when you proclaim that. That's not your queue to start pulling out the diaphanous scarves and fan dance routine, no matter how much whistling, pounding on the floors and standing on the seats screaming and cheering you're used to, or feel somewhat entitled to at least.

But I digress, point is, I'm OUT LIKE TAH-RRRR-R-R-R-ROUT!!!

Rainbow style.

Thursday, February 04, 2016

Internet Poetry Clinic #1: WELCOME to the Introduction!, AKA I Just Couldn't Fit This Anywhere In The Previous Post.

~ Welcome, to another edition of Poetry Clinic, which I am putting on for the benefit of internet poets everywhere. Speaking as the greatest Living Internet poet, I - well wait, of course I wouldn't say a damn thing. It would speak for itself, if in fact I "were" such. Mis-step averted. But also, for all I know there might be some way better ones out there - I haven't really met a ton of internet poets, and maybe I should get out more before thrashing my laurels around. Take it for what its worth, salt to taste, and use your judgment with a bit more ease of grace if you will - and then you, too, may say to yourself: hey, if he's not, maybe I am! Go for it. Come at me in fellowship, my brethrenly RIVAL!!! Because from MY experience, I've never met even ONE inter...net, aw FUCK.

Her.

Yeah, okay, she's - wait! NOPE WAIT!

Saved by the technicality. She doesn't count.

She's not an "internet" poet. At least, not to me! And while I'm at hit, how the hell are people supposed to take a poet and interpret and know and judge just from online, anyway?

Speaking as the
"soi disant" greatest living internet poet, I can afford to be open minded on this and ask: explain to me how. Maybe that's what can turn the key to tumble the lock and open the door for me to say oh, hey, those criteria make sense, and now I can get a better handle on where I stand in the rankings. ~

Roses Are.

See, perfect example. The above has all the earmarks (or hallmarks?) of a "modern poem."

* mostly prose
* novelty line breaks
* subtle if any rhyme

This gives your verse an incredible amount of loose, groovy freedom - but WARNING! It does NOT make poetry writing EASIER! If anything, the lack of a safety net, the lack of even a force of gravity to pull you down, keep you grounded, be able to tell up versus down even - the lack of all that restraint and equipment basically frees you to FAIL, if you're not careful. Most modern poetry is a perfect example. Mine, just right up above us there - well, admittedly, less so. Far short of a perfect example of that sort of thing.

That's the risk you take. Free verse is for REALS, yo.

I just wanted to point that out, because sometimes people are like "This museum piece looks like my special needs kindergartener's imaginary BLIND FRIND took a SHIT on a NAPKIN and slapped it up on the refridgerator like the proverbial asshole sittin' in Pie Corner with plumbs on his thumbs." That's pretty much a clichƩ, in the red-blooded just-us-folks world of art critique, in these days, ever since they finally gave up on the sort of progress that had been captivating snoots for a while by then. You look at some free-form MASTERPIECE and go "SHIT! I could do that without even WANTING to." But it's just as important to note - the same thing applies in poetry! It's just poetry never had a chance to get bastardized by the Modernist Hijack so bad, because poetry wasn't in competition with photography the same way painting was. Fine arts painting basically felt itself threatened, grew desperate, freaked out like a SPAZZ into a corner and DIED there, trying to find even one decent plump remnant wedged into a beveled aluminum crease of a by-then-long-since way-too-picked-over PIE PLATE.

And let me tell you. There is nothing inspirational about the wafting aroma of the curdles and scrapes and streaks of remains of purple-pulped pie juice that looks and smells like it has been sitting out in a room-temperature room since the beginnings of the ends of days. Bacteria, mold - you name it. And yeast trying trying to eat what's left of the sugar, but there's not even enough moisture left in it for poor little mister yeast to shit out a proper alcohol molecule as a by-product! Art, basically, became spoiled and so I just wanted to make sure you're aware of the pitfalls - the same thing hasn't QUITE happened to poetry yet, so be careful, but have fun. Just make sure you're not the one to fuck up poetry for EVERYONE TO COME GENERATIONS AFTER.

There's no Nobel Prize for that.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Koan-In-One-Go

I've done poems-in-one-go. This is a Zen koan in one go! Let's see what happens.

GO!!!

A young monk, an initiate at the Shin-lao temple, was sitting meditating under his favorite banyan tree when up the path from the Imperial capitol came the great big master of the temple, who had been away journeying for many months, seeking enlightenment amid the lights and noises and general samsara of the big city. The young monk, immersed in his meditations, pretended not to notice as the master went by, head bowed. Soon, the young monk - again without moving his head or even his gaze, really, beneath his half-lowered and seemingly unseeing eyes - saw again the great big master coming up the road from the capitol. A second time, each taking no notice of the other, the master passed the monk by. When some time later, the monk saw the great big master's approach for the third time along the same road, he felt his curiosity piqued. Perhaps this was one of those metaphysical tests, and he was not rising to it. Then again, perhaps the not rising to it was the correct response for this test. There was no way of knowing without asking, so the young monk resolved: "fuck it." As the master approached, the young monk respectfully arose and stood by the road, in an attitude of respectful questioning. The master stopped, head still bowed, and asked "How can I help you my son?"

"Master, three times I have seen you come up the road from the capitol, walking towards the temple. Twice you have passed by, only to reappear coming up the same road again. What does this mean?"

The master paused in thought, seemed to come to some conclusion, and replied. "I have been teaching you a lesson, my child, by leaving the road just around the coming bend, running back through the forest down a meandering byway, and reappearing on the road yonder - just out of sight from where I saw you meditating."

"What does the lesson mean, master?" said the monk, head bowed, eyes narrowed quizzically, gazing down the road.

The master replied wisely, "It is one of those lessons that is impossible to unravel, my son. The benefit comes from meditating upon how impossible it is to figure out what it's supposed to mean."

"GOD DAMN IT AGAIN?!!!" replied the pupil, in exasperation. "IS EVERY FUCKING ZEN LESSON GOING TO BE LIKE THAT?"

"You learn quickly, my child," replied the master.

Friday, January 22, 2016

U.S. Census Bureau Estimates Indicate that I am Overwhelmingly White and Male

Well I could have told you that. But the knottier question is: what can be done about it? It does seem to put other ethnicities and sexes in a fucking bind. Could this be one of those situations where even I can admit, maybe revolution is the only option?

Bold words call for bold times, I know, but sometimes that proves to be the bellwether of things to come. In this case, let's hope for the best.

You Won't Believe This One Crazy Trick to Finding Out Foolproof Relationship Solutions

Date only fools! For years, and from there basically it's just trial and error.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Thought of the day: Results.

Does it ever occur to anyone that without specifying further, saying "GUARANTEED RESULTS" ought to be about as reassuring as saying "GUARANTEED CONSEQUENCES"?

Thursday, January 14, 2016

Changing the other's mind.

People seem to be constantly in an argument with a goal to change the other's mind. This seems weird to me, and even a little creepy and disgusting.

Why would anyone be in an argument for this reason? What do you get if you do? You get nothing from it! What is it, a victory of some kind? Who's keeping score? What kind of a SICK FUCK are you?

Shoot.

Only reason I'm in an argument is to understand as fully as possible how the other deeply sees the thing. Sure, they or I might end up with a new opinion on the way out, but that's not why you go in. You go in to understand.

If you go in to change their mind - if that's your goal! - how can you not prejudice yourself against everything you might otherwise be able to learn?

Jeez. I mean, I could care less whether you agree with me on this.

I'd totally be piqued and adorably curious to hear about the ins and outs and reasons why though! I'm always keen for a joyful exploration of truths and views, seen through eyes of yous.