I’m just as amazed as you are: this Web site was actually founded on 9 April 1996, and at the time, all of it would fit on a 3.5-inch floppy. (Okay, not a 720k 3.5-inch floppy, but let’s not get technical here.) I’m declaring an open thread for the day; however, I am not actually going to take the day off, because, well, I just don’t do that sort of thing. I never figured this place would last this long. Then again, I never really figured I would last this long, and we know how well that worked out.
Archive for Ventually
A lot can happen in 10.7 miles, especially if you’re sleepy in the morning or weary in the afternoon, or, in my case, both of the above.
This is the person to whom, Polonius said, we must be true. The tricky part is figuring out who that person really is.
I may ask myself, “How do I work this thing without having to learn something new?” And, in fact, I do ask myself that on a regular basis.
Why are some places better to live than others? Maybe it’s something in the soil. Or maybe not.
Today I get to fill out a ballot, and this is what’s been going through my head while I contemplate the matter.
There are, to be sure, certain expectations one must meet on the feast of St Valentine. And as always, I have failed to do so.
It began here:
Plunge taken. May the Gods of the Copybook Headings forgive me.
— Charles G Hill (@dustbury) June 27, 2009
Seventy thousand tweets later, where it stands.
An unfortunate incident on a Friday in the dead of winter.
(Yes, Friday. No, it’s not about whatshername.)
How is it I know all these people I don’t really know? I barely know the people I know, if you know what I mean.
It is of course inevitable that something will eventually kill me; this is the fate of all of us, and God knows there’s no reason I ought to be spared. But I have this unfortunate tendency to see my eventual demise as, well, imminent. And it’s not. (I think.)
No, not a rapper who’s fallen on hard times. Oddly enough, it’s a word we’re most likely to understand by contemplating its polar opposite.
It is de rigueur to sum up the previous year, and speculate on the new one, on this first day of January. I trust you won’t mind if I fail to comply with this cultural imperative except in the most superficial sense.
One week and one day with one low-end tablet. How does it work? Pretty well, actually, but it’s not exactly the answer to anyone’s prayers.
Okay, maybe the prayers of Jeff Bezos.
In which I contemplate two young adult females, both of whom are presumably forever out of my reach. Does this bother me? Maybe, maybe not.
What can we learn from the results of a hotly-hyped automotive Ownership Satisfaction Survey? If you ask me, there are a lot of things we’re assuming that we probably ought not to assume, and there are a lot of people who simply can’t get no satisfaction.
How do you deal with adversity? I don’t deal with it well. Fortunately for me, I have friends on my side — which, it occurs to me, might be something more than mere fortune.
It would be my sixty-third, assuming I get it, and for the moment, I’m assuming that I will.
An Open Thread is proclaimed for the day.
Fifty years ago, I got into the habit of reading the news at dinnertime. It’s a habit I am loath to give up no matter how many options I am offered.
It seems so cut and dried: select the items, toss into the cart, deplete your bank account appropriately. I’m here to tell you, though, that there’s a lot more going on than meets the eye.
Back in mid-September I put up the usual link to the current Vent, and forgot to list it in the Ventually category. This has been fixed.
This is not, however, what I came to tell you about. That particular Vent — #933 — was a survey of my findings at a Tumblr blog called “Transsexual Nudists,” which so far as I could tell contained pictures of no actual trans people: all the pictures seemed to have been Photoshopped. (I later found what appeared to have been some of the originals elsewhere on Tumblr.) Hardly anyone seemed to be particularly upset about this, though: there is evidently a small core of fans who really, truly want the women of their dreams to have standard male hardware. And the character who was doing the virtual genitalia transplant at least did it with some degree of panache: one particular shot involved three unclad women, and he pasted the penis onto arguably the prettiest one.
For reasons unknown, the site was taken down this past weekend, and its archives nuked, though if I remember Tumblr operations correctly, anything from there that was reblogged elsewhere will remain reblogged.
An unusually warm October will be followed, I expect, by several months for which “unusually warm” will be a pleasant memory at best. I don’t like it, but I’ll live through it — I think. It’s not as easy as it used to be.
If we’re going to have capital punishment at all — and the way things are going, I suspect that eventually the time may come when we won’t — state government is going to have to step up its game, or at least quit screwing around with it.
He said he was trying to put his life back together. I had my doubts. And it turns out, I had good reason to.
Yes, even I can be persuaded that I doth protest too much at times.
There is the physical, and there is the mental, and some of us try to keep the two discretely, even discreetly, apart — to our eternal humiliation. Not even Frank Sinatra can help us.
“Shopping, sex, and shopping for sex,” said Penn Jillette once upon a time, “propel all new technology.” Today, gender-swapping is cumbersome and expensive; tomorrow, maybe not so much. In the meantime, there’s always Adobe Photoshop.
I have long suspected that when we set forth to calculate cost/benefit ratios, we tend to underestimate the costs and overestimate the benefits. Which is not to say that I am particularly good at playing the odds or anything.