I wrote it a while ago, but it’s still worth reading! Check out Unlucky 7 … my review of Buffy’s final season, and why I wasn’t sorry to see the Slayer go.

Friday, Nov 21 2003

And we’d like you to dance

I am so tired.

I had been sleeping better, but I can rarely get to sleep when I know I have to, and last night Scott dropped by with the new, expanded edition of The Two Towers on DVD around 1 a.m., so I didn’t get to bed until 5:30. (The expanded edition vastly improves on the rather disappointing version shown in theaters, but that’s all the film review you’re getting from my exhausted brain right this second.) Since I was very aware that I had to get to sleep IMMEDIATELY in order to get up in time to go back to work today, naturally, I tossed and turned. It will probably be around 3 when I post this, maybe later; and, well, I’ll just be exhausted all night at work today. It will be a long night; we stay open until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. Bleah.

On the other hand, Paul is working an overnight, so when I get home tonight, I should be able to collapse into a fatigue toxined heap immediately.

I met my new manager, Julie, on Wednesday, and she worked again last night. Julie is okay… she’ll pitch in and help if I obviously need it… but balancing that is her TRULY FUCKING AGGRAVATING TENDENCY to poke her head back into my kitchen at various odd times during the night and either point out things I’m not doing or ask me to do just one more minor little task (like fetching her something from the freezer, or breaking down some boxes) “when I get the chance”. Now, it’s one of my little personal quirks that I don’t mind being asked to do stuff if I’m not busy, but I’m ALWAYS busy on this fucking job, and in fact, not only am I always busy, I’m always trying to get done with one task so I can get to the next one I have to do, and at any given time, I usually have about three more that I need to get to. Coming in and cheerfully piling yet one more task onto that stack aggravates the fuck out of me.

It’s not her fault. I know it’s her job and it’s very reasonable that she do these things. But it just pisses me off, when I’m already behind, to have my boss come in and put me a little FURTHER behind.

I almost lost it and went off on her when, at the end of a very trying night of this crap, I was halfway through the sign out procedure on the computerized time clock when Julie chirped up “Oh, hon, you have to unload the dish cart, don’t forget!” This truly pissed me off, since I personally can see no reason at all why that dish cart couldn’t have sat there overnight and the morning crew couldn’t have unloaded it… in fact, I can’t see any reason why it’s the DISHWASHER’s job to deliver clean dishes, the cooks should be able to come back and snag that thing when its full, especially since they’re the ones that bitch at me if I don’t keep them supplied with clean dishes, and at the same time, that bitch at me when I push the cart out and have to maneuver around them in the very small grill area to restock their dishes.

Anyway, I did THAT and got home and… well. Birthday stuff:

Paul and Scott had gone into Tampa and spent way too much money yesterday (Thursday) but some of it was on groceries, and some of it was on birthday presents for me, so, what the hell. Paul got me DVDs of Unbreakable and Resident Evil, and this really cool Marvel Comics gift box with a box of Marvel cookies, two packets of Marvel hot cocoa, and two Marvel coffee mugs in it. Scott didn’t buy me anything (I’d have been shocked if he had) but he did bring over his DVD Deluxe editions of Unforgiven and Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan for me to watch. Which means I have a lot of movies & related special features to watch in the near future, and nothing like any free time… oh, well…

I got a box of cookies in the mail from Kristy today, which are nummy. Hartmut and Scott Shepherd sent happy birthday wishes, and Scott, I know, has sent me a CD that will, eventually, wend its way through the Canadian/American snailmail system and arrive here. Thank you, Kristy, Hartmut, and Scott. Mom and Carl, as I noted previously, sent me nice cards and a Wal-mart gift card. Thank you, Mom and Carl. The webmaster from The Website Which Must Not Be Named finally posted the paysheets; somewhere in the snailmail I have a check for $555 and some odd cents coming. This is disappointing, since a couple of quarters ago, I posted nearly nothing for three months and still got $430, and in this last quarter, I really knocked myself out and posted a LOT of material and only managed to bring the total up by $125. Still, the way he calculates these things, $125 is quite a lot, and while the $555 isn’t anywhere near as much as I’d hoped for, Paul and I can definitely use it. So, thank you, webmaster.

I also need to thank ::DEEEEP breath:: Mike Norton, Patrick Spence, Anne Zook, Aunt Roseanne, Elayne Riggs, Martin Demers, Karen Hawkins, Steven Tice, Kristy, Paul J. Was, Scott Shepherd, Nathan Clark, Mom and Carl, Aunt Denise, Scott Ryan, Tamara Collins, Chad and Mel, Chris Goffard, and Jillian Lee, who so far have responded to my mass emailing regarding the upcoming publication of my novel with congratulations. All of you who sent me snail mail addresses will be on the list to receive book announcements, if and when.

I also need to remind Kristy that we had a deal: when UM got published, she had to marry me. Time to start breaking it to Gary NOW, hon. ::grin::

Someone named Tammy wrote me and confessed to having posted admiring comments on my blog and on the Doc Nebula site’s bulletin board, so THAT’s who that was. Thank you, Tammy. And on that subject, I OFFICIALLY OWE EMAIL to that Tammy, Tammy Lathrop-Collins, Mel, Steven Tice, Karen Hawkins, and, I don’t know, probably Hartmut, I always owe email to Hartmut. I doubt I’ll get to it before tomorrow at the earliest, but I acknowledge publicly, I owe the email and I’ll get to it when I can.

Is there MORE damn stuff to write about here? God, I hope not. I mean, well, it would be nice to have a girlfriend to tell you guys about, but I expect one to show up about 4.3 picoseconds after I get my first royalty check for UM, and I guess I’ll just have to be patient until then.

It’s been an excellent birthday, as adult birthdays go. Thanks to all of you. Now, if I can just get through my shift tonight without someone utterly ruining it…

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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:

(a) seem smarter than the person writing the blog you are posting comments to

(b) be funnier than the person writing the blog you are posting comments to

(c) be a better writer than the person writing the blog you are posting comments to

(d) be correct when you point out some manner in which the person writing the blog you are posting comments to was wrong, and/or

(e) Upset The Wimmenfolk On The Blog.

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:

(a) seem smarter than I am, I like people who are smarter than I am, as long as they’re not jerks about it;

(b) are funnier than I am, then I get to laugh at your witty remarks, and hey, that’s all good;

(c) are a better writer than I am. Although I’m in a peculiar place as regards writing skills; good enough to be better than nearly all the amateurs out there, not good or lucky enough to be a professional at it. So if you are a better writer than I am, you are probably a professional writer and therefore do not have time to post comments on other people’s blogs, so this probably doesn’t matter, as relates to this blog;

(d) correct my mistakes; unlike apparently 95% of the remainder of the human race, I am under no illusions as to my own infallibility and simply don’t care if someone points out that I am wrong about something. Being wrong about things does not strike me as either a character flaw or a shameful embarrassment; we are all wrong about a lot of things every day of our lives, and that’s just how that works;

(e) Upset My Wimmenfolk. Well, actually, I shouldn’t say I don’t care if you upset my wimmenfolk, I do, the very thought deeply offends me. However, it’s just that the wimmenfolk at this point on this blog are my mom, my cuz in law, and my sister in law, and if you do something to upset them, I strongly doubt the authorities finding what’s left of you will be able to identify you without a DNA comparison. My mom, and any woman who marries any of the males in this family and stays married to him for any length of time, are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. So offend them all you want; it’s a self correcting problem.

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.

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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.

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