Tuesday, November 23, 2004

And we’d like you to dance

Hey, it's Mrs. Busiek's birthday. Everybody send her some balloons, or something, and mention on the little card that I told you to. Her award winning husband will love that a whole lot.

Life is a little boring right now, at least, on a personal level. I am working all this week, when I had originally been projected to have this week off (more on that later, I suppose, although it’s not very exciting) and the one friend of mine who generates most of my email is off… somewhere, I’m not sure, actually… seeking solitude and distance as she deals with her first two week period without her kids (her soon to be ex-husband has them). She won’t have access to a computer again until after Thanksgiving, so I have time on my hands.

I have gotten some email recently. Scott Shepherd’s family is having some fairly serious health problems, and Scott is SUCH a great guy, I hereby request and require that all of you (all three or four of you) reading this thing send good thoughts and/or prayers (depending on your level of agnosticism) off to him and his. He needs them, and more importantly, he deserves them. Start generating that positive energy now, folks.

Jack Shaver wants to collaborate with me on a book called “So You Want To Be A Supervillain?”, and I will simply refer him to Mike Norton and/or Nancy Champion for what a good idea THAT is. (If he has a Ouija board handy, he might want to ask Jeff, too.)

I worked yesterday, as noted, even though I normally have Mondays off. I’ll be working today, too, and Wednesday, although I’d asked for them off. My boss had told me I could have them off, but then her boss came back and said HR was having some problems with everyone scheduling their days off around this upcoming holiday, which was creating a severe crisis in billable hours for the quarterly period. So my boss came to me and asked, pretty please, if I could put off my vacation time until maybe past New Years, and, in fact, since a lot of other people on my team took yesterday off, as well, I even got to go in then.

Other than brownie points, I have a very relaxed schedule this week up through Thanksgiving… I basically can go in when I feel like it, as long as I get in at least 6 to 7 hours per day and hammer out a minimum volume of work.

Now, what did I do for my birthday?

Normally the answer to that is ‘nothing’, but this year some stuff came together. First, on Saturday I got a package in the mail from my comics pusher up north… not a gift, per se, but nicely timed stuff, since I just finished rereading A Criminal History of Mankind. I got some old issues of Iron Fist (a guilty pleasure, I love the character, but all these stories are terribly written), some Modesty Blaise stuff, and a collection of that Neil Gaiman 17th Century Marvel Universe thing. A buddy gave me a case to carry CDs around in, and a few CDs to put in it, which I can’t remember the names of right now, as they’re all at work.

I also got a gigantic stack of birthday cards from one particular friend with a very weird sense of humor. All I told, I got something like 22 different cards from this person, who told me on the phone yesterday that “I just wanted you to open your mailbox and see a great big pile of birthday cards”. Well… mission accomplished. The cards are a hoot, but I don’t have room on my various bookshelves for all of them.

The Bucs also won, and when I say ‘won’, I mean, they beat the living shit out of the San Francisco 49ers, which was a nice birthday present, too.

Beyond all that, the girl next door had to go into Tampa on Sunday to check out some stuff at USF (where she’s hoping to transfer next semester) and I offered to pay for gas if she’d let me ride along. So while she spent the afternoon and early evening touring dorm apartments and talking to financial aid people, I threw away far too much money over at the nearby University Mall, procuring for myself such items as the first season of Space Ghost: Coast to Coast on DVD, a copy of Frank Miller’s Batman: Year One, a really cool pullover from Old Navy. I also picked up some boosters of various different HeroClix expansion sets and pulled nothing outstanding besides a Veteran Ultron.

A call to my neighbor’s cell phone when I was about tired of shopping (one of the nice people at Waldenbooks let me use a phone) garnered the information that she’d be tied up for at least another three hours, so I also went and saw The Grudge, which despite the insistence of a guy I work with otherwise, was a pretty lousy movie.

And then, eventually, I hooked up with the girl next door again (that was a mini-adventure in itself, as she’d gone back to the car during the afternoon and moved it to a different parking lot, but I managed), only to find her parents had met her at USF as well and wanted to take her out to dinner at a very nice steak house, and weren’t very happy at having me along, until we both assured them that we weren’t sleeping together (I think Annie, my neighbor, was rather disturbed at the notion that people might assume otherwise, and I doubt she’ll be taking me anywhere again, anytime soon). Once they got it through their heads that Annie and I were just… not even friends, really, but neighbors, and the only reason she’d let me ride along was because I’d put $12 worth of gas into her car’s tank when we set out, they were more or less content to take me along to the restaurant with them, so I got a nice steak out of the deal, too.

On the way back, Annie suggested stopping off at a local flea market to look for furniture for her new apartment. Her parents eventually talked her into letting them buy her new stuff (they seemed horrified at the prospect of their baby girl having to make do with second hand items), but they didn’t mind hauling a second hand bookshelf and an old beat up throw carpet for me, so I benefited from the deal (and spent another $30 I probably shouldn’t have).

Annie also wanted to shop for groceries on the way home (it was a long, strange trip indeed, although I noted quickly that the dynamic with Annie’s parents and her was, she’d insist that she was buying everything for themselves, they’d fret and then go along with that ‘because after all, you are out on your own now’, and then, somehow, at the last minute, her father would whip out the credit card and put all her stuff on it for her, so I’m sure that’s why she wanted us to make so many stops once we incorporated them into the caravan). I took the opportunity to get most of the stuff I’ll need for Thanksgiving dinner. I couldn’t decide between turkey and ham, so I got a small turkey breast and a small ham, and instant mashed potatoes, and stovetop stuffing, and some rolls, and corn and broccoli, and an apple pie and some ice cream. I should definitely have left overs through my next paycheck.

Alas, Annie’s parents felt no compulsion to offer to cover my expenses, although I probably would have surprised them by accepting if they had… they clearly have far more money than is good for them, and I have no pride about these things at all. I work for a living, but if someone wants to buy me something for no good reason, I assume they will benefit from it in some intangible way, while I will benefit from it in a very tangible way, and that seems like a fair trade to me.

Oh, yeah, Mike Norton also sent me some money via PayPal last week, while I’m talking about my birthday, and he’s the only one of the gift givers who has not told me specifically “don’t mention this on your blog!”, so I can thank him by name.

By the time January 2nd rolls around, I will probably have a good 32 hours or so in time bank, so I will most likely just take a solid week off sometime in January… maybe. Assuming, of course, that I’m not fired first, which never seems like a safe bet to me.

Oh, yeah… in not so great (but very predictable) news, I got Time Watch back from Baen Books yesterday. Fuckers.

I suppose there is stuff I ought to comment on… the Republicans rewriting their Congressional rules of order to keep from having to dump DeLay if he gets indicted makes me weary… and I should really send out a big ‘atta boy’ to Chai Vang. It’s not often that I high five mass murderers, mind you, but since we can’t seem to figure out how to teach the deer themselves to shoot back, Chai’s actions in a Wisconsin woodland seem like the next best thing.

However, honestly, I have to get to work, which first requires things like showering and dressing (being the only person in the back room today, I may be able to skip the shower, but someone somewhere will insist that I dress) so I’d better get my ass in gear. To the extent that a creaky, morbidly obese 43 year old fanboy can do such a thing, anyway.

RULES OF THE ROAD

In one of his many invaluable essays on life in Hollywood, Mark Evanier described his first meeting with legendary TV comic and icon Milton Berle. Upon being introduced to Uncle Miltie and shaking hands with him, Mark, who is a pretty witty guy, blurted out without even thinking about it, "Wow, I didn't recognize you in men's clothing". According to Mark, this soured Uncle Miltie on him from that point forward, because Mark had broken Rule Number One When Hanging With Milton Berle, namely, Never Be Funnier Than Milton Berle.

I'm reminded of that anecdote now.

Recent experiences at Electrolite being pretty much entirely similar if not completely identical to my previous experiences at Uppity-Negro.com and TampaTantrum.com, I thought I'd take the time to extrapolate whatever wisdom there is to find in the whole mess. Here's The Deal, as far as I can see:

If you want to make friends and influence people when you head out onto the blogging trail, at least, as regards your posting comments on other people's blogs, you MUST NOT:

Rule E comes mostly out of my experiences with Aaron Hawkin's Uppity-Negro blog. He gets a lot of female posters and like any of us male geeks would be in that admirable position, he is thoroughly whipped by them. If a new reader comes along and does anything whatsoever to offend the babes on Aaron's blog, that new reader can expect a cold shoulder from Aaron roughly the size of the Greenland glacier. I don't really blame Aaron for this; for a male geek, positive female attention is a jewel beyond price, and if I ever had any women posting to my blog who weren't related to me by marriage, I'd most likely dance and sing like a puppet on a string when they cracked the lash, too.

I should add to this that I've learned, from Electrolite, that one Must Not Be Whimsical, Oblique, or Overly Geeky When Posting To A Big Important Political Marketplace of Ideas Type Blog, because those guys just have no time for Theodore Marley Brooks or Cornelus van Lunt references, regardless of how amusing or entertaining you and some others may find them.

Now, I am posting this to point out that while these may be the universal Rules of the Road on other blogs (and as far as I can see, they are, indeed, pretty much universal) you can ignore them here. I don't care if you:

Oh, and I like geeky references and would just adore whimsical, cleverly elliptical posts to my comment threads, although I suspect I'd get annoyed if someone started posting a whole lot of Harry Potter-speak here, just for one example.

If there is a universal rule on this blog, it is quite simply, Do Not Be A Bigger Asshole Than The Blogger. In fact, if you can avoid it (and most of my small number of regular posters avoid it with style and panache) Don't Be An Asshole At All. I am quite a big enough asshole myself to supply all the assholiness necessary for any blog, and I will continue to keep this blog well furnished with stupid remarks, doltish mistakes, whiney rationalizations, and defensive recriminations by the ton lot, there can be no doubt. You need bring none of your own asshole nature with you, I have plenty and am always willing to share.

THE INEVITABLE DISCLAIMER

By generally accepted social standards, I'm not a likable guy. I'm not saying that to get cheap reassurances. It's simply the truth. I regard many social conventions in radically different ways than most people do, I have many many controversial opinions, and I tend to state them pretty forthrightly. This is not a formula for popularity in any social continuum I've ever experienced.

In my prior blogs, I took the fairly standard attitude: if you don't like my opinions or my blog, don't read the fucking thing.

Having given that some more thought, though, I'm not going to say that this time around, because I've realized that what this is basically saying is, 'if you don't like what I have to say, tough, I don't want to hear it, don't even bother to tell me, just go away'.

And that's actually a pretty worthless attitude. It's basically saying, 'I don't want to hear anything except unconditional agreement and approval'. And that's nonsense. This is still a free country... for a little while longer, anyway... and if you really feel you just gotta send me a flame, or post one on my comment threads (assuming they actually work, which I cannot in any way guarantee) then by all means, knock yourself out.

Unless your flame is exceptionally cogent, witty, or stylish, though, I will most likely ignore it. You do have a right to say anything you want (although I'm not sure that's a right when you're doing it in my comment threads, but hey, you can certainly send all the emails you want). However, I have an equal right not to read anything I don't feel like reading... and I'm really quick with the delete key... as various angry folks have found in the past, when they decided they just had to do their absolute level best to make me as miserable as possible.

So, if you don't like my opinions, feel free to say so. However, if I find absolutely nothing worthwhile in your commentary, I will almost certainly not respond to it in any way.

Stupidity, ignorance, intolerance... these things are only worth my time and attention if they're entertaining. So unless you can be stupid, ignorant, and/or intolerant with enough wit, style, and/or panache to amuse me... try to be smart, informed, and broad minded when you write me.