Do You Feel Lucky?

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

Sunday, August 31, 2014

*BOON REDEMPTION POLICY: Important Change. Check Terms of Your Specific Boon to See if It Applies.

Those of you in receipt of an as-yet unasked BOON* are hereby informed of a change in terms. Effective immediately, Boon (hereinafter "Boon*" or "BOON*") is defined as the offer: "You may ask of me 1 thing which is in my gift."

Previous boons offered either unspecified or under the explicit term "Ask of me that which is in my power, and I will grant it," are no longer valid. However, as always, holders of an expired or other invalid boon may redeem it for a valid Boon* by turning in their invalid boon and performing 1 one (one) Stunt*.

I Did Not Say Goof

Would you please goof off with your sarcasm or whatever it is? You know damn well I don't care if you believe me.

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Damn Disclaimer.

This blog is fiction. If I write an autobiography, that would be novel.

This blog is writing practice. Practice does not make perfect. Play makes perfect. This blog is practice.

This blog is anthology. If I have spoken words, their use ends with the sound. If I have sent a letter, its use ends with having been read. The purpose of those words has been fulfilled. 

Here, now and again those words find repurpose. That means I might re-use my OWN words, some choice bit or theme from a passing convo. If you're one of my peeps with whom I'm fortunate enough that we converse or correspond, this here is not some subtle, malign hint that I'd repurpose YOUR words.

Please. Bite your tongue on that thought. 

Facebook: "Some Say..." Pt.2

This post is a Part 2. There was also a Part 1.

OK, that Pt.1 was a lovely dissertation or some crap, but cutting to the bottom line that got a bit buried at the tail end of it, the point of the post is, I believe there's only one "Dogimo Jones" on Facebook, but whether there is or there isn't - that's me!

That's my name. Dogimo Jones, Attorney-At-Love some call me. I am not an attorney!

I am not at love, but I can advise you.

Sincerely,

Joe

P.S. I should have put "warmly." Go back up there mentally and change it to "warmly," or better yet! Keep it "sincerely," but just put some warmth into the sincerity. Mentally!

P.P.S. And I do apologize for any perceived churlishness on the part or in the eyes of people who reached out kindly, heart-in-throat, warm hand virtually groping through the ethernet to be my friend - and were cooly rebuffed, for the very excellent reason that I never really bothered to think through at the time. But see part 1!

Facebook: Some Of You...

Hi folks. Let's call this post, "Facebook For Some."

Facebook is a place for people to stand up in a room full of...everybody...and spout an ignorant, ill-advised statement the likes of which they would never have spoken aloud to you, if there were only one other person watching and listening. They'd have shut their mouth. 

They wouldn't have said the thing they just said to that particular whole, wide circle of their world.

Why this happens is a bit of a mystery. It's because they see certain people spout very definitely-worded views, they themselves have some definitely-held views, and they think that's the same thing. "I can do that!" When it turns out the view in question, so definitely-held, had never once been even cursorily-examined by the viewholder - that's when you get those ignorant, inadvisable statements.

It works so great! People they love come out of the wordwork, gently gently, probably only one at a time because they see oh, Aunt Sally Ann already took care of his ass for him: "Dogimo. You can't really mean that, can you? Even in light of bif, bam, bop?" People they respect come flying out from all directions ripping the ignorant statement to shreds and then pounding them into the dirt. "What's wrong with you? Expect better from yourself!" And then the people to whose worldview the statement was attempting to pander come flying in from all the other directions, "DAMN RIGHT!" "TELL it!" "Finally someone with the GUTS!" "Don't listen to these fools and deniers!" Then everybody gets in a big fight.

The system works perfectly! People who are ignorant and indifferent to reason get, really, no worse from the reactions their ignorant, ill-advised statement brings. People for whom human reason and, particularly, reality-as-jointly-observed go together to form a bit of an "Achilles's Heel" in the foot of the courage of their convictions - those folks may end up failing, losing their shit stancepoint in favor of an open-minded hopeful expectation of eventually coming to a better one, or better yet, skipping straight to a better one. And because almost every strongly-worded stance is going to get enough rah rah support from the likeminded knee-jerks in the camp it's meant to stand for, encouragement results. The person who never, ever would have said that idiotic, ignorant, unadvisable thing to you face-to-face will be reassured: on Facebook, this simply is the social norm.

Now for me, Facebook is less about all that. Facebook is a place for me to view and enjoy the beautiful, underage children pictures of my paranoid, privacy-obsessed family. I honor that. I make a point of never accepting a Facebook friend request except for someone who A) I recognize the person's name.

B) I have looked the person directly in the eye. A human eye, a space between filled with nothing but breathable atmosphere, no windows, no screens, and another human eye. The eyes, as they say (apart from Zooey Deschanel's which are windows to heaven) are the windows to the soul.

And C) aforesaid eye contact has occurred OUTSIDE OF WORK. In the context of a social interaction which was at a minimum not unpleasant.

Technically that was a policy before I realized how well my familial paranorms justified it. Originally I had no justification at all for my comfort levels and normal responses! Imagine that.

All of this was before. Some of you, a couple of you asked me if I could be a friend to you on Facebook. Given all the above (and to be fair, the family objection/justification did come in pretty quickly after an idle talk with my sister - I don't think I'd ever had a Facebook friend request to turn down yet, at that point), if you did, I probably turned you down.

What a scumbag!

I have a Facebook account now, one that I am beginning to use for more than just to see pictures of my beautiful and ferocious mother, occasionally father, constant brothers and sisters and the many, many progeny of many of them. I'm using this one for no good. No good reason. No reason. All of the above. Friend me!

If you want, now you can friend me. As he comes begging and cowering back, trying to get those good graces, "Oh, NOW you want to be my friend!" Well, to be perfectly truthful, not really. I want to be your FACEBOOK friend.

Some of you, I was already your friend.

Good morning!

I am,

Dogimo Jones

Unedited Comments from my Secret Free Thinkers Facebook Debate Group #2: The Grammarchy

As usual, the problem is not what's claimed (classism, elitism, bullyism as claimed bases for a would-be grammarchy). It is the absolutism and oversimplification used to make and support the claim.

Where a given rule aids clarity? GRAMMAR ELITE GOOD. They win not because "It's a rule"; they win not because the power of rules can "shut down" and "bully" people into silence! And what sheep, if so; what cowards to be shut down, shamed by ignorance of some silly rule!

Where the rule truly is silly, is useless, the grammarchists are easily dethroned and ridiculed for insisting on it. Where the rule powerfully aids clarity, though, the grammarchists rule. By divine right: the will of the people to a language capable of wielding meaning with power.

It's case by case, as almost always it is. Absolutists can eat a dick!

But even there, my generalization is overbroad. In a given instance, many of them will choose not to.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

A woman wants to see you succeed.

Otherwise, she won't fuc* you for *hit.

Unedited Comments from my Secret Free Thinkers Facebook Debate Group #1: Widening Circles

It's probably a good thing. It shows people that their circles of acquaintance and even intimacy encompass a whole spectrum of views. The strident folks sail in and make ass of themselves, but often do a decent job presenting the side. People you respect surprise you by chiming in the voice of reason on behalf of a side you don't credit with reason.

Facebook is the sociocultural version of early 1980s MTV's play-it-all mix list. By within another 10 years or so, I fully expect to see some "Alternative" surfacing, but for suck's fake, this time I hope they leave the flannel out of it.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Internet Friendships: an Appreciation

I do not celebrate Internet friendship. I do have, however, a small group of friends, perhaps such as you, with whom I have had to conduct friendship entirely through means inadequate and unsatisfying, such as the internet. You will say that without the Internet - the connection wouldn't even have existed! True. If we settle for inadequate, unsatisfying means, it is because we must have found a friendship worth such sacrifices.

Because even if the friendship is true and good, the connection sucks. Compared to eye contact, the human hand, a voice that warms the air as it stirs it - there is no compare. It's simply nothing like.

I can't celebrate Internet friendship, I fear. I celebrate those friends for the sake of whose 'ship we make sacrifice. We do our best as friends. Sometimes the best we can do is make the best connection we can.

We settle for a connection that is wholly inadequate, for the sake of a friend.

Friday, August 15, 2014

AHHHH FOR SUCK'S FAKE!

FOR SUCK'S FAKE! FUT THE WHUCK, HOO THE WHELL DO YOU FATHERMUCKERS THINK YOU'RE RUCKING AFOUND WITH! I WILL CICK YOU IN THE KINKING STUNT, WHO YORE! DUCK MY SICK!

Actual Work E-Mails #1: Cancel the Planned Smoke Break.

Looks like I may have to cancel. Not packing. Left ‘em at home.

Unless you want to change it to a fresh air break?

But that seems frivolous. Lacking in the serious tone of two united in the lifting of that heavy, set-in burden of the lungs; united in uplifting that smoldering beacon - a glowering blaze, a red-orange coal held high to light the way forward as we march calmly and purposefully forward heralded by the battle-cry for the ages, a shout of celebration and warning, ringing down the epoch of all human civilization and civilizations.

That cry is: “FIRE! We have mastered it! We tame it, we roll it up and suck on one end! It is only we, paragon of animals, who demonstrate our mastery of evolutionkind in this bold way! By the ritual and habitual ignition and deliberate inhalation of varying kinds of burning vegetable matter. It is technically, probably, this one thing alone that provides the 2% that separates us from the chimps!”

Oh, a chimp can be taught to smoke, sure. But trust me, no chimp would have come up with this particular little "stunt." It took humankind, man. It took mankind! This was like, the second fall - Adam had to convince Eve to suck on that sweet sweet stick, that badge and emblem of the Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of How to Get Shit Done. Using unnatural means - or rather, using unnatural drives to harness natural means with our characteristic ingenuity. When you think about it that way, smoking really is a sweet setter-aparter! Animals on one side, and humanity on the otherwise.

Well, there's that, but also plus - check out the sweet fig leaf.

God’s going to shit when he sees this sweet fig leaf. Dude doesn’t even know we know we’re naked! All this time, not telling us we're naked. That's just wrong.

Apologies if you heard that story before.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

RIP, Spalding

death fucks us all up, but I think the testaments I keep seeing today - people telling with force how a human can touch another with love, even from a distance, even a stranger! That's a testament to the force and receptivity of the human spirit and an open heart.

Those who can touch from afar can do it cross space and time. Speaking more personally, Spalding Gray is gone, but in his touch he lives on.

RIP to you, too Robin.

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

As Usual, My Every Thought

...is chiefly in your direction.



And your body looks like the sun

Ripped Off The Headlines #7: Zooey Deschanel Splitsville

Dear Zooey Deschanel,

This is horrible. I mean it's horrible. I mean it's stupid enough you have to have your personal life all wrung out in public, tabloid quipsters slinging quaint phrases such as "splitsville" - this was LOVE at stake for you, it once was! Don't they fucking know what it's like? I have no idea, certainly none about what it's like for you, and I wouldn't believe the reports if I read them, believe you me. But I've been lucky enough in this life to know how much of love is my business, and how little business of anyone else's is one's love. The sole exception to that is: the other one. Anyone else can butt the fuck out of it; can butt and should have butted. Dear Zooey Deschanel, I have no idea if this is a desolate time for you, or a time of quiet resignation between two who tried, but had to be honest about hard facts. Compatibility, as they say, is a motherfucker - but baby when it works, oh, what a motherfucker it is.

Unfortunately, sometimes obstacles are the even bigger motherfucker. I am not prepared to speak to your details, and I'd be ashamed if I was. It is your story.

All people talk about your eyes. If you ask me, that whole "eyes are the windows to the soul" deal is overrated. When I look in your eyes, in moving pictures, in pictures only, never once direct and deeply into them - but I don't see your soul. And some say the camera itself captures and imprisons the soul. If this window theory had a thing to it, you'd think I could see yours. I don't buy the window theory. It seems shallow and venial, somehow, to me. To expect or believe you can catch a glimpse of such universal and intimate human space with one's eyes, even looking into another's. Because if anyone's were ever clear enough! Yours, those are just the most beautiful eyes, in the eyes of many, and celebrated in as many voices. To tell the truth, whatever's behind those blue windows is inscrutable to me. Mysterious, and just a bit thrilling because I'll level with you woman, it's kind of hard to tell when or whether you're putting someone on! You've got that whole cute, earnest but "am I secretly being sarcastic," thing going on? And people talk about your EYES.

I want to talk about your LIPS. But I won't. FUCK! Not at a time such as this. Ashame myself!

I want to talk about your hips, your hair, your smile, your arms - your so many loveliest and ordinary aspects, your so many lovelier and extraordinary ones! All that you are dovetails, doubling back upon itself inextricably in a web of mingled woven light beams and silk, or something similar. I won't have my chance to talk about any of that, or to ever know any of you in passing to the point where my view of you could be worth saying aloud. Words do not fail me, it's simply knowledge and understanding that fail. Your mind is a stained glass candy cathedral with rather sacrilegious, or at the very least irreverent windows. Your body is - what call do I have to say? Your body is the living embodiment of no ideal, but of what you might call an archetype. A lot of people might say: Eve. Not the ideal woman, no: the primal woman. Natural as that, and as close as we'll know of such a living myth, in this age - or so say a lot of people at least. Seriously, they do! Not to your face I am sure, and perhaps not in those exact words, but damn it that's what's being meant.

Zooey, do you know that you have, for a lot of guys, become the archetype of woman mysterious and desirable? And they talk about your EYES!

Well, your eyes are beautiful. Damn your eyes. Damn them straight to heaven. If they tell me that is where your eyes are windows to, I will at least suspend my skepticism for as long as it takes to look into it.

Anyway. It's bullshit all these media types celebrating the celebrity of the downfall of what I know you once knew was love. Where do they get off? And here I am, at best, contributing to it. At worst, I don't even know.

And I have no call to give you advice, but I will.

Don't let them win.

Don't ever learn to look on love so cheaply as their cheap hearts and cheaper commentary would make its worth seem. Don't learn lessons, unless in learning and practice, they make you better. In your own eyes.

I'm a pretty big fan of your acting.

Anyway! That's about it from me.