I’m in the process of migrating to WordPress, and this necessitated a switch of feed URLs—the fact that LiveJournal spammed everybody’s friends page with all the articles currently on the feed is really annoying, and I apologize.
I will read a webpage or blog or comic somewhere online and be blown away by the responsible party’s wit and talent and humor. It would totally be something that my friends would find funny, I think to myself. And then I start thinking about how much more witty and talented and fabulous this person is than I am, and I become irritated and wind up saying nothing at all.
I’ve added links to the Lee Cataluna columns that I reference in my open letter to her. And yes, I did in fact email a copy both to her and her editor. I don’t think that I will get any sort of response, but I sure feel better.
The urge to descend to name-calling and intimations of social, rhetorical, and neurological dysfunction is nearly overwhelming me here, so I’m going to call it a day.
Following the lastest weeks of hideous, nonstop comment spam, I am disabling comments temporarily. They will return, in a somewhat more robust form, requiring users to authenticate via their choice of TypeKey or OpenID—this means that most of my regular commenters, who read via LiveJournal, will be able to comment using their LiveJournal identities with a minimum of hassle, which makes a great deal of sense to me.
Comment spammers are going to go to a very special place in hell.
Alchemical immortal, provocateur, pontificator, pulpit-pounder, novelist, 3-time Tour de France winner, and all-around good guy, P. Tuttle Starr left his sizable estate in central Tajima to his pet Canadian before the life-changing neurosurgery that fused his mind with a transcendent artificial intelligence derived from a foulmouthed Aibo named Murray. Immediately after the procedure, ol’ P. Tuttle realized that his only recourse would be to marry his longtime consort and foil, Julia the Bold, and move to Hawai’i to pursue a Master’s degree in Japanese Literature. After negotiations with the shadowy Hawai’ian underworld monarch known as “King Kona” that carried on long into the night, Mr. Starr was finally allowed to reside at an undisclosed location on the island of O’ahu. There are a variety of obscure provisions governing his visa to operate in and around the Hawai’ian archipelago, among the more interesting of which was his promise never to eat raw penguin.
(more…)I’m in Montana, I have an apartment, and I am alive. Give me just a little longer, and I’ll have net access again, and oh, the tales I will tell. Such tales.
Additionally, those who I owe email will receive mail. Such mail.
It’s pretty up here. I can survive this for a year.
I have heard, recently, whisperings of a vicious rumor, a notion of the most vile sort. People are saying that I have a web site.
I know. Imagine my shock, my revulsion, at discovering that the very statements I had once dismissed as mean-spirited lies were actually true. And, sweet flaming barbecue, I have not updated in weeks. Well, here goes.
The Japan Hierarchy got linked to by both Metafilter and BoingBoing, as well as a bunch of other weblogs, and as a result I’ve seen several thousand hits.
Thats is really, really cool. Welcome to Midaregami.
The people accusing me of ripping off L. Fitzgerald Sjöberg would do well to note the relevant weblog post, where I acknowledge his Geek Hierarchy as the direct inspiration for mine. They might also note Mr. Sjöberg’s link from his weblog to mine several weeks ago. There’s no foul play here, folks.
I think I may have to disable deep linking; the lack of context here is making me look like more of an ass than I actually am.
Lots of thanks and toasted mochi go to the inimitable Fluffy, on whose account comments are back! Life is good. Well, better.
For two consecutive mornings I’ve woken up to depraved porn site spam all over my blog. Thus comments are now off and will remain so until I can implement a solution.
I hate these bastard spammers.