When we began our little adventure here at Brushfires, there seemed to be a general consensus that this not be a sports blog. I have adhered to that desire, but with the new baseball season about to commence, I wanted to take an opportunity to express why this baseball fan (Giants fanatic) feels such love for the game.
Many people are familiar with the iconic film of Carlton Fisk coaxing his ball fair in the 1975 World Series (http://mlb.mlb.com/media/video.jsp?mid=200807313224115 - hang out for about a minute and you'll see it). That is the exact moment that I fell in love with baseball. Watching the games was a way for me to spend time with my father. He left for his job in San Francisco before we got up in the morning, got home took his shower, ate dinner and allowed himself some down time before he hit the sack to do it all again the next day. His treat was to watch a ball game. Back in the 70's there wasn't as much televised baseball as there is today. (Heck, the Giants exhibition game against the A's is on tv right now.) Mostly, it was the A's or the Giants - if they were playing the hated Dodgers. Anyway, that's how I happened to be watching baseball on October 12, 1975 and saw a man, by sheer force of will, make a foul ball go fair. And, the unabashed joy that he showed when the ball hit the foul pole was the impetus for a crush on Carlton Fisk that lasted for years.
For me, baseball isn't just about men getting paid ridiculous sums of money to play a game for a living. It isn't about feeding some unfulfilled need to feel successful by living vicariously through the accomplishments of others. It's about community, shared history - and hope. I can talk to any baseball fan and find common ground with people with whom I may have nothing else in common.
Hope - on Opening Day, all teams have the same record, and anything is possible. Now, obviously some teams have a better chance coming out of the gate than others. But every so often, baseball - just like life - can provide the most delightful surprises. Just think of the 1969 Miracle Mets, or the 2008 Tampa Bay Rays!
Is there something in your life - an external event or experience - that provides a special thrill, an opportunity for fellowship, such as I have described here?
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JM, I could write baseball memories as well so I think I'll go into a different direction. At least for now. As most of you who read LaSalle's blog know, I am a huge fan of horror films but particularly vintage horror films. This started due to when I was about 8 years old, my parents took me to a school auditorium that was showing a double feature of a couple old films. One of the films was THE RAVEN, a 1963 Roger Corman movie that was comically written by Richard Matheson inspired by Poe's poem. Though it was a comedy, it still had true, chilling wonderful moments. 2 of the 3 main actors were already dead (Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre. Vincent Price was still alive and kicking).
Well, immediately, I was hooked. Started watching CREATURE FEATURES on channel 2 religiously, started subscribing to FAMOUS MONSTER OF FILMLAND.
As I got older, the *passion* itself waned but the *love* never did.
Okay.
About 2 or 3 years ago, the BALBOA THEATRE in SF's Richmond District had a week long Boris karloff film festival. And the highlight was Karloff's daughter, Sarah Jane, was coming ij person to speak, show home movies and do a Q & A as well as sign autographs.
Now, granted, this was also an obvious spiel to sell her just published book on her life as the daughter of the Frankenstein's Monster, but... when I asked her question from the audience (after the first 2 studio movies and the home movies), I was mesmerized and when I stood in line to get her autograph...it felt to me like I was visiting royalty.
My God, I thought. KARLOFF'S DAUGHTER!! Right there. 3 feet away. We chatted for a while. There was still one more movie to be shown, THE CRIMINAL CODE with Walter Huston and directed by Howard Hawks and she mentioned that she'd never seen it. I told her "This is the film that made your dad! You've never seen it?!" And she said "No. Never. Not yet". I said "You're gonna love this!" And she smiled and shook my hand and thanked me and...like I said. To a guy who started as a geeky kid who used to call Dear Boris KING KARLOFF...this was a meeting with royalty.
I realize this is one of the goofiest stories ever told but...it's from the heart. I'll never forget meeting and shaking the hand of the King's daughter.
so, I watched the clip and it was really cool...but I'm still just can't care about baseball - especially now when it's so different from the 70's.
I guess my memories are of driving into San Francisco from the south. The little houses on the hill, all different colors - ticky tacky houses. :) When I moved away briefly in the late 90's, coming back and seeing those houses would ALWAYS reduce me to tears. I love it here - and the fact that so many of my childhood memories seem to be summed up by those little colorful houses on the hill.
My dad liked to take us for long car drives on Sundays after church. He still does actually, but mostly we won't let him unless he has a destination in mind.
So, my mom would take us to church, then take us to a bakery so we could get a cookie or a donut. Then, my dad would take us for a long, windy, back roads drive and I'd throw up. To this day, the smell of donuts makes me think of being car sick.
:)
But they are still happy memories - I'm not so sure how my mom and dad feel about them, but now that I don't throw up in the car anymore, they're probably over it.
Going to Mass. My mother always took us on Sundays. I used to love the occasional smell of incense and constant fragrance of the beeswax candles and the beauty of the stained glass windows. The polished wood pews, and all of the other other art and the music and singing. I loved to look at the people, all gathered to worship an idea--all encased in a beautiful building with sky-high ceilings. So many different types: Rich, poor, young and old in different colors.It fascinated me.
Now when I go, I'm still in awe of the sensations of the physical beauty of the Church, but what makes a deeper impression on me is when I watch the people go up for communion. These are just plain, regular people-- good people--who put their faith in the spiritually grand idea of selflessness which binds them together for common good, rather than something like living for themselves first.
It's a beautiful and emotionally moving sight.
For me, there's still nothing that beats playing music with friends, or even with people who aren't yet friends. When I was a kid, I always fooled around with the musical instruments around the house (piano, trumpet) that my brothers were given lessons on, as well as the guitar that my uncle had given to my mom, but it wasn't until I started playing with other folks that it really became meaningful to me. As with so many things with me, it started in the family; my younger cousin was learning to play the drums, so he and I used to get together and work out rock and roll songs. For me, there's still nothing like the thrill of when a song starts to come together and sound like something musical instead of some unformed noise.
vw: vagstrox (I kid you not)
G od I love this game
O pening day is my favorite
G rass is greener than a Dodger fan's envy
I have my glove on one hand
A nd a pretzel in the other
N ext to me is my best gal
T he pitcher has finished warming up
S tanding now for the national anthem
2 runs for the Giants
0 runs for the Dodgers
0 hits for the Dodgers
9 innings of pure perfection
Dat's veddy clever YC
Funny, or maybe not funny, maybe cynical, but things like solidarity and fellowship that once seemed so important now seem impossible, except in a transitory way. Unions, political action groups, demonstrations -- once the promise seemed fulfilling. No more.
The one repeated experience of sharing with others that now seems the most remarkable in my life actually required no other people at all. It was always fun to go surfing. On a good day, with not too many people scratching for waves, a provisional community would coalesce. Guys who'd ridden waves inside would paddle back out and have a perfect view of others riding waves in. Great rides always drew cheers. Think of it. Half a dozen strangers out on the sun-bright ocean a quarter mile or more from shore, having a blast together.
But at the heart of our joy was the ocean. The same quality of fellowship never could've occurred at a skateboard park. We were all responding the waves, to the wind, to the changing tides, more than to each other. As a result, some of the best days anyone ever has surfing occur alone.
No one else staying at the big hotel on the beach wanted to hike all the way out to the outside point at Matanchen Bay. Some were afraid of the shark stories (there's a river mouth just to the north of the point, easy pickins for the toothy ones). Some were lazy. A bunch of them were racist jerks from Florida, so I wasn't all that disappointed they'd decided to surf the smaller stuff inside. When I paddled out, the sky was gray; the water black and glassy. The waves were medium sized, and fast. I caught a few, then paddled back out to rest. I sat on my board, looking at the jungle behind the beach, and regained my breath. A dorsal fin sliced the water next to my right thigh. I'll never forget that zipping sound. The thing was moving so fast by the time I looked down all I could see was the fin disappearing and the huge bulk of the creature below. I have never been more terrified in my life. Then the crescent moon flukes flew up, splashing water into my face, and I realized it was a dolphin. I have never been more relieved in my life.
I stayed out for hours, alone, catching wave after wave, until I was exhausted.
Mine was better, zoot...only because it was more succinct ;). But I do love the idea and image of you conquering your fears when you were young. Oh to be young, idealistic and fearless again
What's your life like now? And how have your surfing days translated into the person you are now? Is there any of that boy left in you?
My novella, which sits at my feet, is about baseball, or more specifically baseball and youth...or even more specifically: the appearance of Dick Stuart at my 10th birthday party. Dick was later to become known as "Dr. Strangeglove" for his "prowess" in the field... my father knew of my love for the big slugger and arranged for Stuart to come to my party. Upon his entrance I froze. And never spoke a word to him. When he thrust out his hand, I looked at it...Dick died a few years ago, in my book he sits with me by my pond and we finally talk. He forgives me for booing him one day long ago and I forgive him for making me do it ;-)
Does Dick Stuart's record for errors at 1st base still stand?
Ted, to my knowledge, it is still a record for ineptness...
Although Dick was more indifferent than anything else. Without Stuart's glacial presence somewhere in the vicinity of the first base bag, Mazeroski might never have made the HOF. Bill had to cover the whole right side. On a ball to his left, Dick would wave, to his right, salute. The story goes that he once got a standing O for catching a hot dog wrapper...
I hope that standing O story is true. Funny
Gina -- half the time I'm still 18 in spirit. Great boon in my business; opposing counsel can't figure out what's going on. Other half the time, I'm 57 with an 18 year old son. He's going to cut school to go to Giants' opening day next week. I used to cut high school regularly to go surfing. So -- how do I deal with this personally rather interesting problem? Like a 57 year old father.
But hey, I go to the gym three times per week and I still surf (occasionally, on rare weekends).
Thanks, Zoot.
These days I feel 15 in a lot of ways. If I had to do things over again, that would be the point where I would want to start again. What I'd really love is to be 15 physically with the knowledge and life experience that I have have now. Instead, I'm just 15 mentally again in a 45 year-old body. Err. Life's just not fair!
wv: trivant...is that supposed to be some sort of secret message??
Well, that was a confusing mess of an explanation. Emotionally, I feel 15, with the knowledge of a 45 year-old in the body of a 45 year-old. What I want is to feel like I'm 15, with the knowledge of a 45 year-old, in the body of a 20 year- old. I think.
off topic but this came up in a past post:
xootsuit, finally saw BLACK SHEEP. Sadly...eh eh. Not funny not scary. A sort of silly idea that had possibilities that ended up being just that. A sort of silly idea that had possibilities. Highlights? A *great* score, beautiful (I'm assuming) New Zealand scenery and an attractive leading lady. Lowlights? Everything else. Just a hodepodge of an attempt to capitilaize on SHAUN OF THE DEAD and the Troma films. Not even so bad it's good (and remember, you're reading this from someone who loves and re-watches Bela Lugosi movies).
Avoid
I knew you were jailbait, Gina. ;)
Ted: You're a brave man. Thanks.
On a thread on some blog some months back I mentioned that I've met Bela Jr. He may be retired now, but he was an LA entertainment lawyer. He was involved in litigating and legislating the right of publicity law in Calif. that applies to his father's image, etc. He did a lot of work with Comedy 3 Productions, the company that handles the 3 Stooges rights now.
LA. Man, I love to hate that place. One of the few times I've flown into Burbank was on a trip to have a meeting that involved Bela Jr. I thought renting a car would be cheaper than two cabs, so I got into the Avis line (shortest, at that moment). Two places ahead of me in the line was a lanky black man in funky looking sweat pants, and with white stubble on his face. He twitched in an odd way and he looked like he was trying to pretend he was invisible. He noticed me noticing and his weird introversion got worse. I guessed that he was a strung out junkie. Then someone walked past us and shouted, "Mr. Glover! My kids loved 'Angels in the Outfield.'" Suddenly the famous smile blazed forth and his eyes lit up as he said thank you with so much false sincerity the rest of us in the line nearly fell over.
At this troll free space a 2360 word count
754 by a narcissist who tells boring, overwritten stories about trivial events in his life as if he remembers anything that far back
559 by a sad fifty or so year old guy whose formative life experience was monster movies
between them 1047 words, about half the blog.
It's working out great.
Why talk about immigration or the financial crisis or the inequality in pay or Obama's educational policy?
You got what you wanted FH, winkingtiger and Gavone.
oh no between them over 1300 words, more than half the blog.
I beg your pardon, but I am not jail bait. It is not a bad thing to feel 15, especially with the knowledge of a 45 year-old. I just wish I had the body of a 20 year-old. Life would be perfect, then.
And fyi, I much prefer older men. I don't want any guy that's not at least 5 years older than me...preferably older. So there.
hartal, everything these posters have posted is better than anything you have to offer. Sorry.
Gina, I think xoot's paying you a compliment.
I'll sssume that qua and Gavone are two different people with the minds of a fifteen year old in an aging body. So to both I only need point out that this blog was supposed to be about solidarity and fellowship.
Other people figure into Ted Spe's monstrous life history as shadows and xootsuit wrote in an unconscious moment of honesty (it surely does not come any other way for him): "The one repeated experience of sharing with others that now seems the most remarkable in my life actually required no other people at all."
Pathological narcissist. Textbook case.
hartal: I think xoot described a day of surfing with a dolphin. There's nothing narcissitic about that. In fact, it's one of the more unusual examples I've seen of a person engaging with the other.
You, on the other hand, posting only to qua palimpsest, you're really a sick narcissist. I suggest you try leaving. Lots and lots of leaving.
bye bye
If everyone else is so irredeemably inferior, why do you care?
oh
Sr. G.
He's posting to you too? Sorry.
well, maybe you can talk some sense into this kid. Maybe he could go back to school, get a PhD and terrorize undergraduates? Maybe go to law school and defend stock market frauds? Surely he/she should pursue something other than blog-jam troll time infamy.
"I realized it was a dolphin. I have never been more relieved in my life.I stayed out for hours, ALONE, catching wave after wave, until I was exhausted." (emphasis mine) There is nothing here about companionship with a dolphin.
xootsuit, Bela Jr is also royalty. As is Don Chaney, Lon Jr,'s grandson.
Glover?
Not so much. But met his wife at her art studio in the financial district. Nice lady.
;)
hartal - do you have anything to offer on the topic at hand? This was an innocuous post requesting innocuous - but personal - facts/stories about the members of the blog. Surely, there is something that brings you joy that doesn't involve criticizing other commenters...
Well yes I remember the joy of playing on a pick up team where we were worse than the other team from the top down. We were shorter though our shortest guy had the hops of Nate Robinson. Not really exaggerating. He could play at the rim at 5'7''. The other team had a former third string guard from Arizona, and I came from around a pick to strip him, which given the vast difference in our skills made the on lookers gasp and cheer. Well we had all been playing with each other for a couple of years. But somehow we won, we rotated on defense, we set picks for each other, and we trusted a lot of shots to an excellent woman medium range shooter who had played college ball. The other team shared in the joy of our winning. It wasn't supposed to happen, and they wanted to stay on the court for the entire lunch break.
But they had to sit down.
And I recall the many evenings where we are at the park, everyone's kids are just old enough that we can take our eyes off them and even talk to each other, and we all collectively feel the happiness that our children are happy and healthy, and know that their ability to get along is reminding each of us how easy it is to connect. And why shouldn't it be as the sky turns orange and a slight breeze keeps every thing in gentle motion. We know that we do different things, our politics are different, our values are incommensurable, and yet it does not matter. Their children are beautiful, the sky could be a painting to remember the evening by, and we are all here together.
Or I remember the inauguration and feeling the tears that came from my connection to all other parents of African American kids that tomorrow people would see a bit more in the faces of our children than they had seen before.
And then all the children of the world gathered as one, a glittering rainbow of joy and unity... war was no longer imaginable and our weapons were laid upon the ground... the Sound of Music rang through the hills... the fairies danced as damsel flies upon a stream of peace and unbounded joy... peace was at last forever at hand...
That was so very beautiful, Twinnie. I mean it. I was moved to a voluminous flowing river of sweet, salty tears--such a deep and abiding pain in my midpoint-- at the image of such loveliness...
yes gavone you once said that the people on this list shared the following. 1. mostly divorcees, 2. readers of LaSalle, 3. hate me. A pretty sad way to achieve an identity but now you have a fourth shared characteristic, and it seems to be the most important one.
Pathological narcissism and a deep cynicism towards fellowship of any kind. I except here FH and dsgonzale6 who after all did speak of the activity (music, and leaving sex aside) where we best achieve ek-stasis which in the Greek suggests being rapt out of one's self.
That his musical tastes are questionable is beside the point.
Well, now we've got something to work with.
Your moniker is meant to mock a metaphor and a phrase that I used. But why are you identifying yourself in relation to me? To be identified negatively in relation to me is still to be identified in terms of me. It can't be that a main component of this group's identity is actually hatred of or mockery towards me. That would be an utterly reactive identity, not a positive and self-affirming one.
hey, xoot. I thought it over and hartal may have a point. Obviously he has read your surfing piece several times and he still does not get the point. So I suggest you revise it slightly, along these lines.
Instead of saying you were "alone" I think you should say you were "alone, with the dolphin, with the waves, with the Ocean, Creator of us all!"
What do you say to that?
Ted, hartal is never going to understand your story. Maybe that is a good thing?
and finally, hartal.
you perfectly demonstrate the following: deeply narcissistic people don't know they are. bye
Hartal. Hate is too strong of a word. I said, CantstandyaHartal. And, I haven't since you first starting gasbaggin' it up on LaSalle's blog eons ago.
"We know that we do different things, our politics are different, our values are incommensurable, and yet it does not matter. Their children are beautiful, the sky could be a painting to remember the evening by, and we are all here together."
Hartal - if you could only display these feelings towards your community here and at sfgate, you'd probably feel a lot mroe welcome. Perhaps you reserve your respect, sense of dignity and community only for those who are in front of your face.
All the faces behind the words here are as real as those you know in real life.
I see it differently, mindful life. LaSalle wrote in favor of Clinton without any real sympathy for Obama and his partisans. I hit back as hard as he was hitting, and by the end LaSalle the vomit boy had made a fool of himself. Then xootsuit and twinfan hit as hard as they could at me, acting with great pretension towards me. And they got more than they could handle.Xootsuit thought that he could reveal me to be a faker by getting me to talk about a novel I won't name. He ended up making an ass of himself.
dsgonzale6 wanted to stay neutral even after Clinton lost it, so we had our spats, and it took Clinton's own superdelegates to withdraw their support to get her to quit even after Obama had the requisite number of delegates for the nomination. I argued that Clinton did at times play some of Penn's nativist cards and that incensed me. dsgonzale6 never thought the playing of those cards was a good enough reason to be done with her candidacy. I thought it was one good additional reason to throw behind Obama.
But that is all in the past. I think Jeffrey Sachs' recent criticism of the Geither-Summers plan is devastating (see the full version in the Financial Times two weeks ago).
And TedSpe has decided to throw his weight behind those opposing me on questions of CEO pay, illegal immigration, the role of the banks, and the quality of Slumdog, My point is that he has no idea what he is talking about, and people should be worried if he ever takes their side. But the charge that I picked a fight with TedSpe is absurd.
never losing an opportunity to flog that dead horse, huh? well, you can't say I didn't try (and try and try and try).
I would rethink the assumption that I have been the aggressor and your friends the victims of my venomous posts, Mindful Life. By the way, there is a great little introduction to Buddhism by Stephen Asma.
hartal, you made an ass of yourself, over and over. Saying otherwise does not change the fact. All you do is take a position based on someone else's position and then discount any disagreement. You do it viciously. And when those arguing with you show how shallow and vapicly pretentious you realy are, you turn troll and call them aggressors. Then, weeks or months later, you claim victory when you really lost, every time.
That's who you are, Mr. hartal. That's who we see fouling this blog.
One truth that I took from my second marriage was summed up in a saying that my ex-wife used to like to repeat--a cliche, really, but like many cliches, based in a universal principle. I'd heard the phrase before, but never really thought about it until arguing about it with my ex.
As individuals who shared a passion for music, my ex-wife and I spent a lot of time talking about our musical likes and dislikes. Whenever we were in disagreement, she would always say, "There's no accounting for taste." In her view, one's likes and dislikes (particularly with regard to forms of art) were completely subjective and not susceptible to objective standards, and I ultimately had to concede that she was correct.
So now, whenever someone criticizes my preferences, especially in matters of the arts, I have to laugh, because I know they've stumbled into the error I once made, and that no matter how hard they might try, the best they can do is box themselves into a corner.
wv: hagmatif
dsgonzale6, fundamentally I agree with you. Ratiocination and imagination are always subjective. Perhaps my skin is too thin at times. But I compose my posts carefully and I conduct my research passionately. I feel I have the right to demand reciprocity. Is that such an obstreperous perspective? Or is my edifying discourse innuring to everyone else's betterment? The latter, I believe.
Still, insofar as I offend, I apologize. I will try to exercise some humility henceforth.
Hartal, FWIW, I was not offended, so there's no need for an apology. There's no accounting for taste, so if you think my musical taste is questionable, that's your prerogative.
I did not write that. People defining themselves (negatively) in terms of me; people assuming my identity. All this belies the dismissive comments towards me.
What I did say was that your musical taste is beside the point. yes I would question it, but my point was that at least you wrote of the activity through which we achieve ek-statis and communal feeling, showing that you do not suffer the malady that plagues this list. Especially by gavone/oracle/qua/ and xootsuit and TedSpe.
ratiocination is not subjective in the same way that imagination is, though I believe in the importance of person centered arguments.
I don't see why anyone would say my skin is thin as I do not shirk from criticism from multiple people.
innuring is not a word as far as I know, and inure would not have been appropriately used as far as I can see.
I don't mean ad hominem arguments by person centered arguments. By the latter I mean that a valid argument should be couched in terms that the person to whom it is addressed can understand. In that sense arguments should strive to be subjective rather than simply objectively valid, i.e., couched in a formal or mathematical or symbolic logical language that the other may not understand. I really don't talk in a way that I could not be understood even if people don't agree with me.
Finally, if you have not comprehended previously, allow me to explicate my primary rhetorical strategy.
I myself am comprised of a naturally occurring resilient substance planed into a perfectly smooth surface; you are comprised of a foul mastic substance forming a disgusting puddle in a filthy alley. The totality of your grandiloquent utterances spring harmlessly off of my pristine surface, qua backboard, and return and adhere, as all pertinent opprobrium should, to you.
You're making this discussion way too involved. I had a simple point (no accounting for taste) to make about one specific thing you said (my questionable taste in music). I'm pleased that we're more in agreement about that point thatn we first seemed to be; I didn't wish or intend to get involved in the rest of the arguments. I apparently didn't even notice half of the comments that you're now referring to.
Missed your immediately prior comment as I was writing my last one. I have to say I thought it was funny.
wv: feriment
Well I didn't write it and acrylic (the stuff out of which a lot plexiglas backboards are made) is a synthetic polymer, not a naturally occurring substance. And things do not adhere to a puddle. This kind of big word parody that a high school freshman would write.
This is the work of a half wit such as Gina/Oracle/Qua who now has something of a pathological relationship with me as she has doubtless had with a lot of other people who have needed restraining orders.
I did not write that comment disavowing my previous comment. Someone or ones is or are posting under my name and I decry that dishonesty. These interlopers should show themselves and debate fairly, so that I may insult them unfairly. Now, I say! Now!
I do not know who these people are posting as me. dsgonzale6, I am deeply ambivalent about my contentious blog personality. Perhaps my recent studies of Buddhism have influenced my thought. I now suspect that honesty may bear the key.
This is my veracious mind speaking: When we convene with the other parents at the park to have our children play together, I do not perceive beauty in the other children. Most of those sad little kids are the twisted products of racist and anti-intellectual parents. And they are miniature monsters, growing like cancers in our society. I only pretended to have a sweet communal moment to try to deflect some of the on target criticism flying at me. Please forgive me for my lies.
Parody would seem to be the the mimesis of mimesis, and parody can be driven by the inability of the ego to admit, much less act on, its longing for identification with the other. Projection of one's abjection on to others is much easier to understand. It's often an attempt to normalize what is hateful about oneself.
Parody and projection are what we find in oracle/gavone/qua.
Parody and projection are what we find in oracle/gavone/qua.
I love that qua person...do you suppose he's single?
WV:putsicr
One last note before I leave this sump to you rats. Whoever it was who suggested last night that I do not know the meaning of incommensurable had better hope that I never have the opportunity to confront you face to face. I went back to my files and found the January 20, 2009 leaf from my word of the day calendar, and, guess what, the word that day was incommensurable. So you see, I do know the definition of that word. I believe I employed efficacious diction in that sentence, despite the minor misque. Incommensurable certainly sounds like the series of phonemes I intended to write. My powerful subconcious creativity merely made a metaphoric pun appropriate to the moment.
And for those dolts like qua who have not caught on yet, the true trademark of my work is the ad hominem attack. If a post bearing my name does not insult another poster directly, that post is counterfeit.
word verification: hugic
That really is me, is it not?
While I must officially denounce posting under other's screen name, that was just too funny!
But, officially, I do not approve of such behavior.
;-D
I think hartal wins*
*by group forfeit.
It's easy enough to ensure that no one else posts under your name--set up a Google account (easy). I like to know with whom I'm having a discussion.
I agree with dsg.
wv: proust
ah the taste of madeleines . . . . or, that's how the cookie crumbles.
our new dog is displaying an unnatural affection for her stuffed bear. I'm not sure if she's in heat of just having fun, but it's pretty funny. It definitely tires her out, though.
Suza - What kind of dog?
we inherited Mr. Suza's mom's chihuahua. All of 5 lbs. She's cute, though. Not yappy. Just humpy.
Suza, I hate to have to break it to you, but your new dog is a teddysexual. :)
wv: purli
Teddysexual? For some reason I think I should be offended.
I'm not. But I think i should be
LOL - teddysexual. I took a cell phone video of her but somehow it just doesn't capture the scope of the situation.
Another good opportunity for terrific human interaction is taking the dog for a walk to the dog park. Most people are very happy when they do this, and they seem more willing to talk with virtual strangers.
Ted, had I known you were a "teddy," I wouldn't have said anything.... ;)
I hate myself for looking forward to and enjoying Hartal's posts. Where the hell is he? I don't have any fracking dogs, so can we get off this topic. I get so impatient that I begin pretending that I am he or trying as best I can to sound like him. I have never felt better about myself, but then I realize that it's impossible to become him because I don't care about really understanding anything other than what I think are my true feelings, though those are the products of my immersion in second rate popular culture, my half listening to Glenn Beck and blogging for which my attention deficit disorder is perfectly suited. I guess it was coming to know that I am really a cipher that motivated to pretend to be someone who can actually think and cares about something.
My fellow bloggers it is with incommensurable sorrow that I bring you the news of Mr. hartal's departure from this world. The underside of the bridge he once vainly attempted to terrorize is his home no more. He is now living and working as a hartal impersonator at a third-rate hotel on the outskirts of Las Vegas.
(I said "mimesis," you ignoramus, not "mimosa"!)
Let us all wish him begone!
wv: dioante
hmmm. that sounds like a good one for gina.
oh, and one more thing. Not only does my attention deficit disorder affect my ability to empathize with other cipher's, my dyslexia makes it nearly impossible to speak coherently or punctuate properly...
vw:quadm...now that is funny!
hartal's attempts at parody are weak, aren't they? His voice is squeaky and strained, like someone on the other side of a thick window helplessly shouting and flipping the bird at people inside a cafe, barely noticing him.
What an incommensurably entertaining situation!
As always, an inept metaphoric construction from quad. Note that I have now begun to assign disabilities to those who impugn my puissant intellect. Gina has ADD; quad's a ratiocinative cripple. If you thought I was insufferable before, just wait to see how things develop now.
Don't you mean "pissant intellect?"
Please pay attention to me though I have nothing to say. I'll make up a new name when I have revealed myself to be juvenile under a previous name. I'll use names originating with Hartal since it's obvious that people do read him. I can't stand that his postings turn attention away from my intellectual and sexual emptiness that I like to expose to all of you. Isn't that emptiness cute for a 45 year old? I am so cute. How dare anyone not flirt back with and focus on me? Haven't you seen my picture? If you don't treat me as a irresistible sex kitten, then you could only hate whitey. I am that damn cute. I better be because I don't have an idea in my head.
Also one more thing -- I'll be most of you think hartal's playing transvestite here. But no. Guess again. (I really like that kind of posting. I am sure many of you have noticed that over the years.)
And you would have thought right. I can't invent a name without it being immediately assumed by those that say they can't stand me. Pretty interesting-- this compulsion to assume my identity.
I am not Ginaoraqua. This entire game is a travesty.
doesn't matter who is or isn't who. what matters is that a certain personality which is not dissimulated by the ever proliferating screen names was described quite perfectly above:
Please pay attention to me though I have nothing to say. I'll make up a new name when I have revealed myself to be juvenile under a previous name. I'll use names originating with Hartal since it's obvious that people do read him. I can't stand that his postings turn attention away from my intellectual and sexual emptiness that I like to expose to all of you. Isn't that emptiness cute for a 45 year old? I am so cute. How dare anyone not flirt back with and focus on me? Haven't you seen my picture? If you don't treat me as a irresistible sex kitten, then you could only hate whitey. I am that damn cute. I better be because I don't have an idea in my head.
Now cut that out! If you keep posting under each other's names, how will I know which one to mock and which one to praise? Wait a minute; this fight is between Gina and Hartal. Never mind. ;)
wv: squizat
FH -- Perhaps we need a sign-in user-name requirement.
Gina -- I used to enjoy seeing the images you posted. Also, when you signed in I sometimes used the link to look at photos you were publishing on your own blog.
Returning to the original theme and my last post thereon, we have a rescue greyhound who is always a terrific source of fellowship. First of all, the greyhound rescue people are like a little community, and so we've had a number of outings with these folks and our greyhounds. Plus, our greyhound is a big one (87 lbs. at her last vet visit)--most female greyhounds don't weigh more than 50-60 lbs--so she gets a lot of attention. Finally, even after living with us for 2 years as our only dog, she misses living in the kennel with the other greyhounds, so whenever she sees other dogs at the vet or on her walks, she can hardly contain herself. Fortunately she is a meek and sweet dog, or she'd be real trouble.
wv: outineme
Raising children creates almost infinite opportunity for finding solidarity with other parents. Orchestras, sports teams, schools, et al. One particular pleasure these days: parent teacher meetings. End of the quarter is this Friday, and I'll find some time to have one on one meetings with faculty members again. They care about the kids. They know them well.
Their boots. You will know them by their boots.
talk about a propos de bottes
DSG - my best friend is involved with the greyhound rescue people. They are some sweet, cute doggies - but way too big for my available space.
Right now I'm trying to train the little bugger to go pee outside (she used to live outside so it wasn't an issue). It involves keeping her with me when I'm awake and setting the timer to take her outside once every hour.
I do notice that people are very attracted to dogs in general. Many people whistle or snick at her when they walk by - or they tell me she's cute. She likes people a lot. She is ok with other dogs, as long as they are ok with her. She's sleeping right now (in her basket with her leash on so I can keep track of her in case she starts to squat) and she's sooooo sweet looking. Sort of like a little hedge hog.
Suza, most greyhounds aren't as big as ours; one of our neighbors has two greyhounds who are about 20 lbs. less than Bug. Mainly they're skinnier, though Bug is also a bit longer and taller than most. But she does take up a lot of room on the floor when she lies down, and when she's on the bed with us (a habit she has recently acquired and apparently really enjoys--she actually tugs at my girlfriend's arm to get her to come lie down), it gets very crowded.
I like dogs a lot. I'm one of those people who likes to point out the cute dogs that I pass.
wv: teticat
Here are two Obama-related topics that looked interesting to me today: (1) Obama will be the commencement speaker at my undergrad alma mater this year, which is attracting some protests; and (2) Kal Penn was just appointed associate director of the White House Office of Public Liaison.
wv: dimpowee
I can see the first press conference:
"We don't have time for questions. We need marijuana now, as much of it as possible! Like a big bag of it".
This is interesting:
http://digg.com/d1mevu
WV: gynato
Ted - I always think it would be something like this...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJEqan2xyaQ
don't you have a fake wedding to plan, Suz?
wv:trongs. The underwear worn by Hartal, naturally. Often two pairs at a time for extra support because he's THAT big.
Please pay attention to me though I have nothing to say.
I'll make up a new name when I have revealed myself to be juvenile under a previous name.
I'll use names originating with Hartal since it's obvious that people do read him.
I can't stand that his postings turn attention away from my intellectual and sexual emptiness that I like to expose to all of you.
Isn't that emptiness cute for a 45 year old?
I am so cute.
How dare anyone not flirt back with and focus on me?
Haven't you seen my picture?
If you don't treat me as a irresistible sex kitten, then you could only hate whitey.
I am that damn cute.
I better be because I don't have an idea in my head.
That's pretty funny, whoever you are. Thanks for the laugh. I wish it were as simple as pre-menopause hormone fluctuations---then I could take a pill for it. Unfortunately, the way my body is working these days,I'm afraid it's gonna be a few more years before I hit it. I think I just got fed up with all the crap everyone told me I had to do and have been doing for the past umpteen years instead of taking care of my interests. No one has been looking out for me, so it's my job to not take any more unwanted stuff.
And, as far as men. I ain't giving it away for free anymore--especially not to some guy who doesn't deserve it. So far, I'm holding out for just right man. And, I think I've found him. Lucky me.
In the immortal words of the late, great James Brown, still the hardest working man in show business: Please, please, please.... Get a Google account so there's no more of this fake posting foolishness.
FH -- It's time to require registered sign ins.
soab, it's time to register at least one of your dozen email accounts and sign in like a, well, like an adult.
xootie - I will take it under advisement. I don't like to require people to register, it's more a matter of 'if you don't, someone can steal your identity'. Some people are reluctant to register, and I don't want to keep anyone from posting - legitimately. I'll do something tonight, with my new post. (Unless I get distracted by "Lost", in which case, no promises...)
FH, this comment is not intended as a dig at you, it's just what I think about this issue: In this context, identity theft doesn't just hurt the person whose identity is being stolen, it hurts those of us who are trying to have meaningful discussions about the topics at hand. How do we know the veracity or sincerity of a comment posted by an unverified person? It might as well be gibberish, except that with gibberish, you know it's meaningless, while with hijacked identities, you're uncertain, and as we know from the stock market, uncertainty is bad for business. :)
wv: midown
Okay, who is QuaGynata, and what is the Dailytroll blog?
wv: imodast
Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?
All people need to do is administer a Turing Test to "Hartal" to see which one is the liberal-left human being hartal who argued for Obama and which one is the cypher-borg that mechanically reproduces screen names in search of attention.
has anyone else noticed that in order to NOT read the unregistered posters all you have to do is click on their "name" at the beginning of the post? It shrinks so all you see is their name. If you don't want to read 15 paragraphs of self righteous bullshit or embarrassing sexual revelations, that's all you have to do.
Yeah, I know the initial reaction is to read what is in front of your face, and it sucks when people are rude. It does. People are fucking rude and completely un-self aware.
I'm still in favor of deleting rude posts. They do nothing to further the conversation and as far as I'm concerned it doesn't constitute censorship since this blog is NOT run by the government. Their posts are the equivalent of bathroom graffiti.
I'm not going to draft a parodic post here. I'm just trying to make a point. Ultimately, it's about integrity. It can exist on a blog. I think.
I agree (finally) that censorship may be the last salvation for this blog.
ferret, I implore you, please eliminate all talk of baseball!
Suza, if I shrink them, it leaves big holes in the discussion and makes the remaining comments make less sense. Perhaps it will work if it's done on a go-forward basis.
wv: singedle
Mindful Life,
The problem with deleting "rude" posts is that it can be subjective. For example, TooSense's "please eliminate all talk of baseball!" can be construed as rude, funny, both or neither.
And having said that, so can this post be so construed.
For the last month or so, I've just skipped over odd names or lengthy posts. Well, most lengthy posts. I'll read a lengthy post of someone I like ;)
WV: fights (I kid you not!)
Baseball would have elevated this thread 100 fold..
Who's the troll now?
***
Interesting that several well-informed and complex paragraphs on the financial crisis, illegal immigration, the educational system, and the raising of children are dismissed self-righteous bullshit by someone whose posts leave as little impression as someone getting off a waterbed.
But seriously if you want to get a good introduction to what Buddhists actuallly mean by mindful life, check out the Stephen Asma introduction; and about three weeks ago there was a pretty severe critique of the popular view of a mindful life in the New York Times. I suspect suzagoob that you would be well-served by thinking through that criticism.
***
Oh yes before anyone accuses me of writing criticism of yet another innocent blogger, do note that my posts were referred to as long winded and self-righteous bullshit
Ted - yeah, rude is subjective, but I don't think your post was rude.
The post above mine is a good opportunity to use the clicking on the name thing, though. :)
This may be support for my thesis that what "connects" people on this blog may be pathological narcissism. What does suzagoob's ideal of a mindful life amount to?
Judith Warner, NYT:
"I have no doubt that this meta-connectedness feels real, and indeed is real, in the abstract at least. But in real-life encounters, I’ve come lately to wonder whether meaningful bonds are well forged by the extreme solipsism that mindfulness practice often turns out to be.
For one thing, there’s the seemingly unavoidable problem that people who are embarked on this particular “journey of self-exploration,” as Pipher has called it, tend to want to talk, or write, about it. A lot. But what they don’t realize — because they’re so in the moment, caught in the wonder and fascination and totality of their self-experience — is that their stories are like dream sequences in movies, or college students’ journal entries, or the excited accounts your children bring you of absolutely hilarious moments in cartoons — you really do have to be the one who’s been there to tolerate it.
For the truth is, however admirable mindfulness may be, however much peace, grounding, stability and self-acceptance it can bring, as an experience to be shared, it’s stultifyingly boring."
Well, you can say that again. And again. And again.
The difference between solipsism and narcissism is worth looking into. Short, pithy posts would be nice too!
against the short and pithy....
Julian Sanchez on climate change debates.
"Sometimes, of course, the arguments are such that the specialists can develop and summarize them to the point that an intelligent layman can evaluate them. But often—and I feel pretty sure here—that’s just not the case. Give me a topic I know fairly intimately, and I can often make a convincing case for absolute horseshit. Convincing, at any rate, to an ordinary educated person with only passing acquaintance with the topic. A specialist would surely see through it, but in an argument between us, the lay observer wouldn’t necessarily be able to tell which of us really had the better case on the basis of the arguments alone—at least not without putting in the time to become something of a specialist himself.
Actually, I have a plausible advantage here as a peddler of horseshit: I need only worry about what sounds plausible. If my opponent is trying to explain what’s true, he may be constrained to introduce concepts that take a while to explain and are hard to follow, trying the patience (and perhaps wounding the ego) of the audience.
Come to think of it, there’s a certain class of rhetoric I’m going to call the “one way hash” argument. Most modern cryptographic systems in wide use are based on a certain mathematical asymmetry: You can multiply a couple of large prime numbers much (much, much, much, much) more quickly than you can factor the product back into primes. Certain bad arguments work the same way—skim online debates between biologists and earnest ID afficionados armed with talking points if you want a few examples: The talking point on one side is just complex enough that it’s both intelligible—even somewhat intuitive—to the layman and sounds as though it might qualify as some kind of insight. (If it seems too obvious, perhaps paradoxically, we’ll tend to assume everyone on the other side thought of it themselves and had some good reason to reject it.) The rebuttal, by contrast, may require explaining a whole series of preliminary concepts before it’s really possible to explain why the talking point is wrong. So the setup is “snappy, intuitively appealing argument without obvious problems” vs. “rebuttal I probably don’t have time to read, let alone analyze closely.”
If by complex paragraphs, you mean badly-punctuated paragraphs with important pronouns missing, then you're right.
yogi sonofabastard, you made a mistake there. I didn't post that. But I am posting this (obviously).
I know I deeply humiliated you, John. How's the weather in Walnut Creek tonight?
Bleah!
FH -- What do you expect people to do when others viciously attack, for no reason? Ignore? It'll never stop. Respond? It'll get ugly. Leave?
someone accuses you of needing to humiliate others to prove how clever you are and you respond by saying that you have deeply humiliated him. The loutish language was ugly and completely inappropriate, yet it seems that your angry response only confirms the criticism.
xootsuit doesn't post unless he signs in. Who are these creeps? Yogi and hartal? Apparently.
qua's right, I don't fake it.
John, you've explained that you suffered mercury-poisoning brain damage. I'm sorry. But still, you could be civil.
hartal, your problem's a bit more serious. I'm appalled.
I'm sorry I called Yogi, John. Only his friends and family call him that, and there's no way I could be friends with someone so far beneath me. I just know it really pisses him off when I call him by name and tell you what city he lives in. Now if I could only find out his real name and address I would post that in a second.
yes let's hear it, what's hartal's problem? We know that xootsuit has written that his most incredible experience with others did not require others at all. It's as if he said that since he always imagines other women who would not have him when having sex, the most incredible sex he's ever had was an act of masturbation. And then xootsuit also responded to criticism that he has a need to confirm his cleverness by humiliating others by telling the critic that he had humiliated him. But seriously the loutish language is inappropriate, ugly, and disturbing . Xootsuit, whatever his problems (see above), does not descend into the gutter like that, and no one should use such language even as parody. Nor has hartal ever used such language though "hartal" has.
Let me use the meaning/use distinction to put forth the question: Who's done far worse--xootsuit with account or "xootsuit" w/o one?
Actually Hartal, I'm just messing with you. Xootsuit registered and unregistered is another one of my aliases. I guess I've taken the joke as far as it will go. Sorry!
Okay, do you think that's how I want to spend my time???
no hartal did not say that. It should be obvious to people that hartal would have never said that. "hartal" said that. That is, probably Gina/Oracle/Qua used the name of hartal to say that.
But if your point is that there is double standard about what people can say about hartal or have "hartal" say about himself and what people can say about dear old xootie, point well taken.
YC, yogi, sonofabastard, teacher, ms. marple, bongo, et alia.
you're one sick soab. But you're harmless.
You remember the kid with the serial killer "tatoos" you wrote about? My hunch: they were paste ons, chosen just to upset an over-earnest hysterical ninny like you.
Tell you what, both you craven asswipes, post your addresses and I'll fedex you my CV and the court place, date and time that I'll be arguing an important dispositive motion for a big client early next month. (The courts are public places, but they have good metal detectors. Know what I mean?)
Just post, cowards.
Ehich of my internet personas, er I mean personae (I know both are acceptable but personae makes me sound smarter)is the most annoying?
Yogi
xootsuit
English Muffin
Bongo Shaftsbury
Rachel Owlglass
Sonofabastard
xootsuit, I'd like to see evidence of your self-proclaimed brilliance here. But you're truly wacko if you are advising people to post their addresses in a place where people muse about using baseball bats on others (why don't you post your name and address here or at least the title of an article and the journal vol/no). And your wackiness is also manifest in your cry for somebody to show up to court to confirm that you are an attorney who has something to do once a month.
no one said...
xootsuit, I'd like to see evidence of your self-proclaimed brilliance here.
>
No one can see evidence of my brilliance, therefore I must be brilliant. Now quit pestering me, my chai is getting cold.
yogi sonofabastard, as usual you miss the point. I don't want you to show up in court. There will be plenty of other people there. I don't want to know your address. I don't even bother to read the bulk of your frantic posts.
I just want to draw an outline around your cartoonish persona on these blogs. You're not real. You're a joke.
An ineffably incommensurable joke, if you know what I mean.
You're such a jealous old bag, Suz.
A fake, a hypocrite, and now a prude. You've been living umarried with this 'man' for how long now, and your ragging on me for impropriety? And you wanna get married where and by whom? And why? And what do you believe in about the religion?
Grow up,Bitch--and then a natural human function won't seem sinful.
wv: What Suz has in her heart.
left out the most important thing...the wv: cancren--that nasty, slimey thing that Suz has growing in her heart.
And one more thing, Suz. For someone who finds my posts to be so embarrassing, you sure keep tabs on everything I say and never miss an opportunity to take a cheap pot shot at me here and on LaSalle's blog.
I thought you were ignoring me?
Maybe your fake ass is really a man in disguise who I'll leave unnamed? I mean, you sure seem to know more about me than I've ever revealed on this blog.
wv:chess
"yogi sonofabastard, as usual you miss the point. I don't want you to show up in court. There will be plenty of other people there. I don't want to know your address."
well, xootsuit, if there is misunderstanding on what you want and if people have missed your point, then you are certainly to blame for not making your points well.
The thing is, people say a lot of mean things on the internet. There are two reasons for this:
(1) Anonymity; and
(2) On the internet, all we have is words, and if we feel the need to protect ourselves or attack something we hate, words are all we have to use.
I know everyone's succumbed to saying mean things online. I am also pretty certain none of us is a particularly evil or hateful person. For the reasons above, the reins that keep most of our vitriol in check IRL don't always work here. But I think we'd all be happier if we understood that just because someone says a mean thing online doesn't necessarily mean they're evil or violent. I think this acknowledgement would ease the frictions we've been having.
Incredible, dsgonzale6 that you are a lawyer. No the solution is simple--never make a violent threat on line. This is also the policy of the owners of this blog.
You have identified yourself as a lawyer; now act like one.
Sometimes the legal approach isn't the best approach, and none of us should be defined solely by what we do for a living--I'm certainly not, and I would hope no one else here is so devoid of humanity as to be so defined. My suggestion was made for the purpose of being able to get along. If you don't want to get along with folks, you can behave however you wish. Nobody is perfect--certainly "no one" is not perfect--and thinking that you could not possibly be mistaken about certain conclusions you have reached about certain people is Bushian, even Vizzinian. Thirty lashes with a wet noodle for you--oh, wait, I guess Dear Abby and I must be guilty of violent threats.
A wet noodle is not a baseball bat. And because intentions can't be sussed out, violent threats are intolerable. It's amazing that I have to explain this to you.
Perhaps you can't suss out intentions, but I can.
So you're saying that it can be ok to write a violent threat even though the blog owners explicitly forbids it? Amazing.
False premises again.
This reminds me of how you have a hard time telling the difference between opinion and fact.
Here's a hint: Had I said "Thirty lashes with a whip for you" instead of "thirty lashes with a wet noodle for you," it still wouldn't have been a violent threat.
Wow, pretty sad argument. But if you had said that you wanted to smash my head with a baseball bat and then later asked for my address..
Joey Ramone sang "beat on the brat with a baseball bat" but that never happened to you either, did it?
Don't forget, you also accused me of threating you with violence the same way you accused TedSpe. Obviously your perceptions in this regard are totally wrong.
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