Let’s face it: I’m pretty great. No, strike that. I’m fucking amazing. And nobody knows that better than I do. I looked around for a way to reward myself for being so wonderfully me, and I just couldn’t find anything that was worthy of my magnificence, so I went out and created one (because I’m just that damn talented*). I present to you the Narcissus Award for Blogging Excellence and All Around Awesomeness.
You may be thinking, “But Bob! There are already so many blogging awards out there, and didn’t you win one already? Why create another one?” Thank you for asking. Yes, I did already win one, because that’s just how great I am. But the truth is nobody appreciates me like I do, because nobody else can. That’s why I created this award. It shows the brilliance, the perspicacity, the sheer audacious vision, and of course the humility of the recipient all in one masterful stroke.
Should you (erroneously) think you are deserving of the Narcissus Award, here are the rules:
- Nobody can give the award to you except yourself. After all, who else is wise enough to truly recognize the scope of your contributions to humanity?
- Display it prominently on your own blog. It’s not bragging, it’s simply acknowledging your greatness, which everyone else should be doing anyway.
- Be sure to link back to the blog you stole appropriated rightfully acquired it from. After all, how can others appreciate your genius without having something to compare it to?
- Be sure to copy and paste these rules along with your new award, in case someone else makes the mistake of thinking they are somehow better than you.
- Feel free to ignore any and all of these rules. After all, only you really understand you.
*It’s within the realm of possibility I may have had some design help from Navare Carter, which is completely irrelevant except to prove just how awesomely generous I am to acknowledge him in the same breath as my fantastic self. You’re welcome, Navare.
Admit it, you missed me.
Well, I have to say it’s nice to be back. I didn’t miss much, did I?
Okay, gonna regret missing that one. Lots of fodder for commentary there, but really, I’ve had my fun with Obamacare. It’s not like somebody died, amirite?
Oh, come on. That’s just not fair. Well, there’s not really much I could have added to the chorus of voices around the world. What else you got?
Meh. Rob Ford was God’s way of mocking late night comedians. A walking slow pitch like that is the divine equivalent of saying “you suck at your job”. I’ll pass. It’s not like he was some sort of bizarre fusion of my two darkest obsessions.
What. The. Hell. The Guardian knew about this ever since Snowden dumped ALL the documents on them at once. They couldn’t break this story a few months earlier? Maybe a little later? I take this personally.
Hello everybody, and welcome to the latest installment of Quarterly Report, where I review the contents of the mystery boxes I receive from Quarterly.co! This time I’ll be reviewing the second installment from Laughing Squid. As some of you may remember, I was quite enamored of the first shipment they sent me, and honestly I didn’t think there was any way they could top it. Fortunately I was so very, very wrong. This shipment is all about the memes, and I couldn’t stop laughing from the moment I started digging in.
When I opened the box, I was greeted by something I simply didn’t expect: Nyan Cat! Yes, someone managed to turn this internet sensation (some might say abomination, but haters gonna hate) into a delightful plushy, and it even sings the song so you can get it stuck in your head (or even better someone else’s head) all over again!
And did someone say “haters gonna hate”? (Well, okay, I did.) Show your disdain for the haterade with this sweet meme-inspired (temporary) ‘tat.
Not everybody is a hater, though. Some people are just grumpy, and the most beloved of the grumpy is Grumpy Cat. Nobody loves Grumpy Cat more than My Not So Humble Sister. She’s going to be sorry when she sees she missed out on this sweet copy of his book, “Grumpy Cat: A Grumpy Book”.
Just to keep things fresh, there’s also a Runaway Monkey Air Freshener included. It’s almost as adorable as Darwin himself.
Finally, what may be my favorite piece of all, the signature Laughing Squid item: the finger tentacles. Yes, you read that right.
I can already think of so many ways to have fun with these, including waking up my Not So Humble Mother the next time she stays over- um, that is, NOT waking up… oh, heck, she’s already read it, no point in going back on it. Well at least I can perfect my Cthulhu impression.
The internet is a strange place, and I’m a strange guy. And Laughing Squid keeps bringing it right to my door.
As some of you may recall, I signed up for two different packages from the online service Quarterly. The first to arrive of the tandem is the Technology and Toys box, of which so far I’ve already reviewed one (which you can see here). The second arrived just last week, but with everything going on I haven’t had time to write up a proper review until now. I know, I know, just like I said to the postman, “I don’t care about your problems, I only want to know what’s in the box!” Well, here we go.
First up, I found a set of paper robots.
I have to admit, this was an awesome find for me. I can remember going to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum all the time as a kid, and while I never got anything from the gift shop, this is exactly the kind of thing I would pick up and look at longingly while my Not So Humble Mother would wait for me to figure out she wasn’t going to buy me yet another toy that was going to sit around my room untouched for weeks before she finally had to throw it out. Fortunately I’m a big boy now, and I can add this to my growing collection of toys that sits around my room unplayed with that My Not So Humble Wife never gets to throw away at all, because it’s called a “man cave” now, and I can still claim I’ll get around to putting them together someday when I just have the time and didn’t you want me to mow the lawn today?
And speaking of robot toys that are right up my alley, the next item really grabbed my attention:
Yes, that’s a tin wind-up robot. It’s only a couple inches tall, but that just makes it that much easier for it to scoot across the table. I especially love that I got the one named “Ima-Robot”. This is exactly the sort of goofy little toy that appeals to me, and it went right into my kitsch collection in my office along with my Pip-Boy Bobble Head and Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.
The next item in the box was only vaguely appealing to me, but at least I can understand why they included it in the Technology and Toys box, and My Not So Humble Wife is quite fond of it. It’s…. sand. Yes, you read that right.
In case you’re wondering “what could this stuff be?” I’ll tell you right now it’s exactly what it says on the label. It’s sand. It never dries out, it’s not too damp, and it’s just like playing with sand at the beach. I personally found it entertaining for about 30 seconds, but My Not So Humble Wife is a notorious fidget and it has kept her busy for hours, so looks like we have a winner with this one.
Alas, the same could not be said for the final item in the box.
Yes, it’s a stylus for all your electronic gadgets. Honestly this is the sort of thing I would expect to buy on my own if I felt I needed one, and if I don’t feel a need for one I would never use one even if someone game me one. *cough* *cough* The problem is I see this going one of two ways. Even though I have exceptionally fat fingers for a man of my slender build, the problem is that either I will find it incredibly useless and will throw it away within a week, or I will get used to it and then I will lose it within a day or so of deciding I have no idea how I ever lived without it. I just don’t see the win here. I also don’t see how this relates to “Toys”, although it’s definitely “Technology”.
So here’s the final verdict: all told a cool box this month, but overall I still didn’t find enough here to justify the $50 price tag, even accounting for someone going to the trouble of curating all the items for me. It just doesn’t have enough of the “fun” or “cool” factor to say “I don’t mind paying extra to have someone pick this stuff out”, nor is there sufficient value in the goodies present to say I got enough to be fully satisfied, although it came a lot closer this time than last time. Your mileage may differ, and if you see enough stuff you like I still recommend checking it out. Also if you think you might like any of the other options, of which there are many, sign up now, because more than a few are sold out (including some of the ones I was thinking of switching to). You can sign up for the waiting list, but three months is already long enough to wait between packages. Don’t wait any longer than you have to.
I was talking with my friend Keri of HeelsFirstTravel.com (which I’ve mentioned before, and who’s been a guest blogger for me as well, but still check them out because they rock), and it seems there was a troll who popped up in the comments section of her blog the other day. I’m not going to dignify the comment by repeating it here, but suffice to say it was inappropriate.
I know there are those who would say that trolling is part of the internet, and that we have to accept it as part of doing business. I’ve even said as much myself. But maybe I’m getting a little quixotic in my old age, because I’ve decided it’s time we take back the internet. I’m tired of the trolls and the sleazebags dominating the internet. I’m tired of feeling like I can’t go into what amounts to the public square without having to worry about seeing the verbal (or sometimes literal) equivalent of someone throwing feces. I’m tired of not being able to invite people into what amounts to my digital home without fear they’re going to track filth all over the metaphorical rugs.
Let me be clear: I’m certainly not advocating for governmental interference. Not only would that go against all of my core principles, the chilling effect that would have on speech vastly outweighs any benefits we might garner from it. Besides, the truth is there are places and times that I myself enjoy kicking back and acting the fool. I have one friend whose Facebook page I troll regularly. Note the keyword there: friend. As in “I actually know him in real life”. Given the chance I would say the same things and worse to him, and he’d say the same and worse to me. It’s part of our friendship dynamic. I’m also part of a group that shares awful (and I do mean awful) videos from around the internet. The kind that should come with a warning label that reads “watch this at your own risk – better yet don’t.”
So what am I calling for? I guess the best equivalent would be community policing, or neighborhood watch. A public shaming of those who do such things, not on the internet (because that only feeds their egos and drives them to do it more) but a real-life shaming. When guys (and let’s face it, it’s mostly guys who do this, but if girls do it they deserve their share of real-life hate as well) start bragging about their latest online escapades, let’s start letting them know it’s not funny, it’s not cool, it’s just sad and pathetic. They may go to their dark little corners of the internet to nurse their grudges among their like-minded ilk, but frankly that would be an improvement. Let them congregate amongst themselves in a self-imposed exile and leave the rest of us to enjoy our own company.
It’s the moral equivalent of making fart sounds in church. A few people might laugh nervously, and a couple immature goofs might get a chuckle out of it, but most of us just sit there in uncomfortable silence and hope they go away. (Not that I consider the internet to be a church, but it’s an analogy. Work with me. I swear it’s apt.) It’s time we all stand up in the metaphorical pews and denounce them for the fools and hecklers that they are, and chase them back under the bridges where trolls properly dwell.
I’m not a transhumanist, and to be perfectly honest I don’t strive to be. While most of the transhumanists I have met have been perfectly nice people, I’m a little too invested in the cyberpunk movement to really believe that science can save us. I also have too keen an appreciation of history, and for all the good that scientific progress has brought (and I’m no Luddite who will claim that science is inherently bad), there is a strong tendency to find ways to misuse and abuse technology, even setting aside the very human tendency to weaponize any scientific advance or discovery that is made. For a couple of examples from recent history, consider either the Fukushima accident or the NSA domestic spying program.
The frontier to which many transhumanists I know are currently looking, and the one that I agree we are most likely to see the next great revolution in human interaction, is the virtual world. The virtual world is already intellectually indistinguishable from the real world, except to the extent that it is superior to the real world (data exchange, etc.) If you don’t believe me, consider how fast conversation happens, how good memory is, how suitable fact checking is without access to the virtual world. Yes, there are issues with the virtual world, but those are issues of emotion, not intellect. When the virtual world becomes physically and emotionally indistinguishable from or superior to the real world, that is the point of singularity. That is also the point at which, lacking other systems, the race will cease to exist, certainly as we know it.
So why would I worry about this? To be honest, I like things more or less as they are. I’ve studied more than a few philosophies and religions to try to understand the world and my place in it, and I’ve had a lot of fun, even if I’ve ended up with more questions than answers. One in particular seems especially relevant to the point at hand.
I’ve come to the decision that I am unlikely to ever be a Buddhist. Buddhism, as I understand it, involves deliberately attempting to let go of earthly pleasures, as pleasure is a source of desire, and desire is the root of suffering. The ultimate goal is the extinguishment of the self, and achievement of nirvana. While I certainly understand and respect that point of view, I happen to feel differently about it. I lean more in the direction that self-understanding is the path of enlightenment, and understanding comes from embracing your passions. Note that I do not necessarily counsel over-indulgence, as that is more often caused by a misunderstanding of some deeper issues, but a true understanding of one’s passions is not necessarily a bad thing, and to understand them you need explore them, and to explore them you must indulge them, at least to an extent. Of course, there was a time in his life when nobody would have expected Siddhartha to achieve enlightenment, much less to be the Buddha, so it may be possible I will change my mind.
But if we somehow do achieve this technological singularity and embody the virtual world (or perhaps it would be more accurate to say the virtual world would embody us), I don’t believe we would have the same passions, the same desires, and in some very real sense we wouldn’t even be the same selves. That’s not to say we wouldn’t be better (as the transhumanists might argue, that’s the whole point of it), but in some ways it seems like abandoning our bodies for a virtual existence would be like a shortcut to Nirvana. Even worse, like any shortcut we would be missing the main road and everything along the way, which is kind of the point of the journey. There are no shortcuts to enlightenment, no matter what your version of enlightenment is.
There’s someone on Facebook, and I won’t name names so please let’s nobody else do it either, who won’t accept my friend request. I’ll admit I’m a little hurt, and slightly perplexed, because we were very close in high school and even in college. But then we drifted apart in the way that life happens, and we haven’t spoken in about 15 years. But isn’t that what Facebook is for, at least in part? Reconnecting with people you haven’t seen in years? I’d almost wish there was a “go away, they don’t want to hear from you, and here’s why” response, so that I could at least feel… I don’t know, closure? Satisfaction? Vindication? Then again, there are a few folks I wouldn’t accept friend requests from on a bet, and I have winnowed my own friends list more than once and even targeted a couple people specifically for deletion, so I guess I live in a glass house on this one.
I’ll admit I’m still ambivalent and unsure about Facebook, even though I use it practically every day and have for the better part of a decade now. I was one of the earlier adopters, although I do not say that with any sense of pride. I was on Facebook before there were games or apps, but not by much, and I was one of the people who nearly destroyed Facebook by flooding your feed with endless invitations to games you will never want to play. Yes, I was that guy, and I’m sorry, although in my defense I never played Farmville (although not for lack of invitations, thank you, Mom).
But despite all of that, having completely abandoned the games on Facebook (that’s what smartphones are for) I’ve discovered that it still has its appeal. I’ve connected or reconnected with dozens of people from my past, mostly from high school and college, and mostly people I either never had a relationship with or (perversely) had a very poor relationship with. I have since gone on to develop at least a passing acquaintance with many of them, and even warm online friendships with some of them. It has provided a sense of growth and even soothed some of the old bitterness, taken some of the sting out of the past. It’s also enriched and livened up the present, connected me to or connected me with friends and family, and given me wonderful opportunities to promote crazy ideas and wild ventures.
But then there’s the truly dark side of Facebook: there are people out there, and again I’m not going to name names, who hold materials that were never meant to see the light of day. Old photos and even video that should have stayed buried. The human mind has the capacity for forgetfulness for a reason, and all media fades. This is the true and natural way of things, and dragging the mullet back into the light is just dirty poker. Making baby pictures and bad acting available for public consumption should be banned by the Geneva Convention. You know who you are.
I used to read a lot of web comics a while ago, back before I had more important and useful things to do with my free time (like writing this fantastic blog for your pleasure and amusement), and inevitably the same scenario would evolve. Whether it took a few months or a few years (and it was usually closer to a few months), the web comic writer would manage to drop a post, miss a deadline, forget to put something up, or just be unable to come up with something, and they would usually substitute some variation on the “sorry, my bad” post.
This post would occasionally be in the form of a quick sketch, although surprisingly often it would take the form of a lengthy written tirade. Sometimes there wouldn’t even be a gesture at an explanation, just an absence where entertainment used to be, and if you were lucky it would appear again the next time there was a scheduled update, with nobody the wiser as to what had happened. The times when an explanation was forthcoming would occasionally be accompanied with promises of making the next deadline (which might or might not happen), and other times there would be the dreaded “indefinite hiatus”.
Almost universally in these instances the artist attempt some sort of justification. The two most common flavors depended on whether the artist in question considered themselves an amateur or a professional, and to be honest I don’t know which one bothered me more. In the case of the amateur, they would usually invoke “real life”. This one goes like this: “Hi everybody, I’m really sorry to do this to you, but the truth is I’m not a professional cartoonist. This isn’t my day job, and I don’t get paid to do this. I do this for fun, as a hobby and as a way to relax, and I just haven’t found it very relaxing lately.”
My special issue with these guys is that in most cases these “amateurs” have a tip jar right there on the front screen of their comic, usually with one of their characters being all cute and begging for money. Now I may not have to pay for content, but the fact is you are asking to get paid for this gig, so to turn around and say you aren’t getting paid is at least a little disingenuous. A lack of success in achieving your goals is not the same thing as not having tried (otherwise “attempted murder” wouldn’t be a crime). Assuming anybody actually did hit the tip jar means now you’re a liar as well.
Which brings me to the “professionals”. This is their day job (or they at least are trying to make it one), and their approach is something like this: “Hey everybody, sorry, I feel really bad about this but I got nothing today. I’, really trying to make a living at this, and I feel really bad about this, and I know I’m really letting my fans down, and I should be doing better, etc.” They then go on to beat themselves up for another few paragraphs. Here’s the hard truth they don’t want to hear: I don’t care. All those lovely “fans” who write nice things like “hey, take the time you need, we just want a good story”, and those lovely things? They are enabling your first world problems.
The next issue I have in both of these cases is the implication that somehow “real life” suddenly “caught up” to them. Sorry, not buying it. Short of jail, hospital, or morgue, there are very few events that you couldn’t have seen coming and planned ahead for. More likely you ran out of inspiration or got lazy, and the sad fact that you spent time writing out a letter justifying that rather than making at least some attempt to put something up speaks volumes about how you feel about your art. Having spent more than a year churning out over 500 words three times a week, I’ve learned something: creating content, even crap content, is hard. Creating QUALITY content? That’s damn near impossible. But it’s the gig we chose, and nobody forced it on us.
Whether you’re doing is as a hobby and you hope other people enjoy it, or you’re trying to make a living at it, it’s your choice. You decided this is what you’re going to do, this is what you’re going to invest your time and your effort in, and that’s what you should do. If you decide to abandon it, at least have the courtesy to leave a note on the door on your way out in case you did have a fan who drops by now and then, but please, no more self-indulgent whining about how you’re just not able to come up with anything today.
If you’re sick or you just don’t have it in you, hey, that’s fine. It happens. Get somebody to fill in for you. Make sure you have a buffer. If nothing else, sometimes you just have to make it up as you go along and hope something comes to you.
Like I just did.
There is an ingrained and pernicious belief that the birth of modern communication, and particularly the World Wide Web, has created the ability to form microcosms of communities based around interests, ideas, ideologies and beliefs rather than around the necessity of geography or shared experiences (such as high school). This in turn creates communities that are more extremist in their belief systems, less inclusive and perhaps even xenophobic, and certainly less open to shared experiences than what we used to have “back in the good old days”.
Let’s unpack that a bit and see if there might be some rose tint in those glasses.
Has anyone ever heard the term “northern liberal”? How about “southern conservative”? “Dixiecrat”? Then there’s the notion that “out west is where the weirdoes live”, and we all know about the Left Coast. Then if you really want to get into it there’s the ugly fact of “the black side of town” and other ethnic ghettos (which every wave of immigrants has experienced, including the Irish, Italians, Jews, Polish, Russians, Koreans… and that’s just in New York City), where people would move just to be close to others who were like them (or were “encouraged” to).
It’s not that the internet and other forms of mass communication have insulated us from people like us; it’s only that it’s insulated us from the people we don’t like. It’s enabled us to connect with people that we do share interests and ideas and beliefs with. For example, people would (and still do) go to church…or synagogue, or the place of worship most appropriate to their form of worship… but that only emphasizes my point. You went to the place most like your belief system. Your worldview wasn’t being challenged, it was being reinforced (and if it wasn’t you were being made to conform). In a similar fashion, most sites people visit on the internet will conform to and agree with 90% of their worldview, and the 10% that is being challenged will be a modest challenge at best… just like your place of worship. The difference is that the internet untethers you from physical space; if there is no place you feel comfortable close to you it doesn’t matter, because you can find what you need electronically. Anyone who doesn’t think that’s valuable, or who thinks that what we gain is outweighed by what we have lost, has never been the outsider.
More than that, when people did gather in these geographical or experiential groups of necessity, what was gained in comity and politeness was done so at the expense of real connection. Here’s another older phrase some of you might recognize: “There are certain topics you don’t bring up in polite conversation; religion and politics are at the top of the list.” You didn’t discuss these things (and still don’t at family gatherings) because the neighbors may not and probably don’t agree with you, and unless your intention is to make sure they never invite themselves over again you stick to certain safe topics (usually weather and sports, unless your neighbor is a Browns fan). Usually the goal was polite conversation, for everyone to have a good time and to come back again for more empty conversation and good times and high balls.
The internet has none of these things. There are no high balls, there aren’t many good times, there’s an absolute dearth of polite conversation (although empty conversation still abounds), and trolls lurk under every comments section. But there is at least a chance of having a real conversation, of engaging with another person while everyone else is busy talking past each other, and that chance is better than another night at the Rotary Club knocking back drinks and mouthing empty nothings. Sure, most people just go to places where they know everyone already agrees with them and takes their turn preaching to the choir, but how is that any different than what used to happen in clubs and meeting halls across America before the advent of the internet? Again, the difference is less about the effect and more about the scope; more people talking to each other, mouthing the same words at each other, and a few loners finally finding each other.
Is it paradise? No. But it’s not the end of civilization either.