Sunday, October 17, 2021
Saturday, August 15, 2020
Learned today that our next-door neighbor died of COVID a couple weeks ago. I mistook the clearing out of the driveway and carport as their summer cleaning. But no. It came on quick, his wife said. 102 fever. By morning breathing trouble. That day to the hospital. Seven days on a vent — he never came off.
This isn’t one of those “I’m sorry” things. This is a strange county with more trump supporters who look sideways at my family than not. But this neighbor was one of those that surprised me. I initially cast stereotypes on him. Braced myself for some nonsense. But he wasn’t who I assumed he was. He was the neighbor who made sure it was ok if his sprinkler got my side of the lawn wet because my dogs might get muddy paws. He was the only neighbor in this god-forsaken, trash-burning-obsessed county who always asked if it was ok to burn. To let him know if the smoke was bothering us. Who offered us the use of his tiller at planting time. So I wrote this:
Light blue pickup
in pieces under a makeshift carport,
Rusted brackets with
razor-sharp edges from
the hard Georgia rain,
donor parts for his old mower.
Garden tools with split wooden handles
lined up by purpose,
More than once
sliced his calloused palms during spring planting.
Tetanus breeds like squirrels scatter,
Pulling sweet beans from twisted vines that traverse his chain-link fence.
Three years my neighbor to the East.
His sun-seared farmer’s tan, stained work shirt,
I mistook for bigotry.
Assumptions skew reality.
Nurturing neighbors like plants,
with quiet concern,
he grieved the loss
of last summer’s crop
succumbed to midnight marauders.
But this spring.
This spring was rich soil,
Afternoon showers ushering tomatoes, peppers, beans skyward.
And this summer.
A harvest cut short.
Crops giving way to
Sprouting fever, chills, choking, gasping.
Gone, the pickup,
Gone, the mower,
Gone the tiller and tools.
Ashes to ashes
vent to vent,
lights a path home.
And who will tend
To his garden now?
Thursday, August 13, 2020
Shall we resume?
It appears the very first post here was October 21, 2001. 74 views. By none other than Jeneane. She who we should panegyrize. Not only do I mean that with utmost sincerity, but I finally found a reason to use that word.
From Autumn of 2001, closing in on 20 years and one show-stopper of a pandemic later, we regroup, say hello, suggest this group blog gain some renewed vitality and see what happens.
Older and wiser? Well, yeah. Wizened? Some of us.
The world as we knew it then changed just before October of 2001. The world as we know it now changed with the pandemic and perhaps, we shall soon see, with politics. A good time to refuel this blog.
Let's have at it.Who's next?
Something happened yesterday, August 12, 2020. Just like some classic old Western movie, where there are bad guys riding around town, making trouble, breaking things, stealing horses, dumping good guys on their faces in the mud, or shooting them in the back, all looks lost, the frightened country folk are slamming their doors, and latching their locks, looking hopeless, but then (queue new happy, hopeful music) a new sheriff rides into town, giving the inhabitants a sense of much needed relief -- and everything changes.
The speeches Joe Biden and especially Kamala Harris gave yesterday on a rainy day -- to nobody, in an empty room -- but to everybody, across the globe, in a very full room of slightly hopeless folks in every country, changed everything.
There's a new sheriff in town and I feel so optimistic for the first time, in a long time. Two great new sheriffs and everything just changed. It's fun to see two amazing leaders take the globe and change the way it's spinning, like two top basketball players, twirling a ball on one finger, ready to play.
Tuesday, August 11, 2020
It was what we had, we would type in a brief thought and send it out. Maybe a sentence, maybe more. If we wanted to write a longer thing we'd us our blogs for that too. We kept a blogroll and clicked on the people in it daily to catch up.
For a more through back and forth we had group blogs, like this one. I had a nice video chat with some of the people from here, and some others, the other day, and realised I missed this.
Blogging took off and permeated everything and got more complex and more simple, and somehow ended up in four sites full fo screenshots of the other three.
So, I'm back here, trying again. Thinking in public. Join me?
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Pray for absent friends. And if anyone runs into Brian Moffatt, tell him to give us a shout.
One must never veer from those directions.
Gonzo goes to Washington, no dogs on the roof of that vehicle. Korean pop music playing a bit too loudly, food diaries and recipes appearing at random, yet often enough to seem on a regular schedule. A cat joins the engagement.
And so goes it.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Friday, February 09, 2007
Yes, Gonzo 2.0. - Nothing new because Gonzo Marketing was always about that.
As you see this YouTube, don't you think Poetry? The Solution is Poetry. And maybe Poetry 2.0 - whatever, whatever, whatever.... props, just props but useful props, no?
When did you forget that this is your world?
And yes, Web 2.0, Poetry 2.0 - we are no longer "writing ourselves into existence". - We are now teaching the Machines how to write Existence so we can write ourselves into Being... That's what this is all about. You want to know who you are? Ask the machine!
We are teaching the Machines to write Structures from which our Being is generated. We are no longer The Web. Separation of content and structure. We are not our Blogs any more. There are no more blogs! There is no more information!
There is no more you! There is no more there there! What is is Your Voice as a Network of Conversations generated by the Machines we teach to regenerate us, our Being of the Conversation of the Web. - There! you want to know how you are? Ask the Machines to regenerate the You as You of The Web. Ask the machines!
Does that Blow your Mind? Don't worry. It will only blow your Mind if it blows the Mind of the Web of Conversations where Your Mind really is anyway.
There is no you unless you are connected. You show up as You only in the Web of Us. The machines generate the structures of conversations. We teach The Machines how to do that. The machines teach us who we are by knowing who we are connected to... Cool. Let's do some more of that. Yiippii. Bada Bing! Tudum Tudum!
YouTube link via FortyMedia
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Laptop for sale.
Pictures of laptop for sale
New flickr guidelines say: DON'T Sell stuff (including yourself) Flickr is for personal use only. If you sell products or services through your photostream, we will terminate your account.
of course, if you send them to ebay to bid, i guess it's okay. I don't know--we may need an update to the guidelines...
Powered by Qumana
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Friday, January 06, 2006
Thank you. Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...
(Disclosure++: I may delete this post when the requested information is removed from that site.)
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Yes, let us know the answer to this question, oh wise one.
Uh, is there a wise one? Is there an answer to this question?
Is the earth still sorta kinda round?
People like me (and who knows, maybe even you, too) wanna know.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Friday, October 14, 2005
SO WAS A DONKEY, SEVEN BEAVERS AND A GAME HEN.
CHANCES ARE GOOD THAT A FEW HUNDRED RODENTS WERE BORN AT UNDERGROUND ATLANTA ALONE.
ONLY SOME OF THEM MATTERED. ALL OF THEM ARE RELATED TO THIS.
THIS MATTERS STILL.
happy birthday RGE.
Friday, September 09, 2005
I am doing now this thing called Software Development Life Cycle Process as Human Cooperation Game Modelling. Workability Design of Such Games and Their Implementations. Business Process Distinction Context Modelling for Software Design as Core Business Structure. You know: the usual stuff from me.
I also started a blog I call BlindSpot which has nothig to do with Driving on a Highway of course. There will be a mixtrue of technical stuff, software testing, gonzo marketing etc... etc...
Stop by and say hello. Thanks.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Once in a while one of these crackpot ideas may sneak into the public consciousness and become huge because it was a good idea, although I cannot think of one.
The "folksonomy" notion is the columnists' last hope of invention, although it's a rewrite of the prebubble "semantic Web" technology at best. And it too is doomed to failure. The utopianism and idealism that exist in the online societies ignore the real problem with Trolls, metaTrolls, überTrolls, folksonomies, and the like. This is because they honestly think that most people are goodhearted. The online world, because of its anonymity, encourages bad behavior. "You suck!" is a common post, and it would be the number-one Troll if Trolling ever became popular. Then would come the Trolls about "Online Casino!" One site promoting folksonomies is the darling of the columnists: Flickr.com—an excellent photo-sharing site where being in perpetual beta is a marketing tool. The same people who hate Java and Flash love Flickr, which epitomizes everything good and bad about Java and Flash. Okay, whatever.
Flickr promotes the use of Trolls to add dimensions to photos so you or I could look things up by, uh, the folksonomy. You know, like "dead dog," for example. But when you look into it, someone will post 100 pictures and Troll them all "Yosemite," and that will be the end of it. I see no depth or real usefulness beyond the old-fashioned "title!" It's hard to express how jazzed some people are over the potential of all this. I'm certain someone somewhere will write a book on how this new old thing will change the world for the benefit of everyone. It may even catch on for a month. When you look into it later, you'll find it all deteriorated into spam and "you suck" posts, and then we'll do it again with a new name and a new group of boosters telling us what a great idea Trolling is.
Apparently it's lost on all of them that the term "Trolling," in popular parlance, refers to the worst form of public graffiti. These people don't get out much, it seems.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Cambridge, Mass., April 25, 2005...According to new findings by Forrester Research, Inc. (NASDAQ: FORR), every human being and business around the globe now has a weblog -- or blog for short -- a type of frequently-updated, chronological online diary that gives insight into the passions of the writer on topics ranging from technology to quilting.
"When I first invented the Internet, I never dreamed that one day each one of us would have our own little piece of real estate," said former Vice President, Al Gore. "But when I saw that even Howard Dean could make a home in cyberspace, well I knew then that Tipper and I had succeeded, that my work as an Internet strategist was complete."
For information on the next wave of online pandemonium, visit podstreet
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
What if each person in America incorporated themselves? What if each person would create a corporate structure in which their worldly affairs could dwell and play out. This I haven't thought before.
Who can help me with this project? I wan to cease to exist as a human being and become a corporation. I will speak new language. Instead of going to get a haircut I will visit an accountant every month to style my image.
I simply love this idea. Wanna steal it? Run with it? Who wants to join this project?
Talk to me at http://kombinat.us/blogger
Freedom did get me there a bit Harry. Been battling the Warren Commission. I told them I saw that dude in Dallas on a grassy knoll but they still concluded that JFK died of self inflicted gun shot wounds. So much for bearing witness.
And yes Jeneane, I've first visited Pope Johannes Paulus Secundus in December of 1987 at Cite Du Vatican. I was young and full of dreams and I told him I was going to change the world and work for Peace on Earth. He just smiled. - Ever since then I've been embarassed of my dreams. Dreams don't work. So what works? - Human beings have been engaged in this discourse for a long time. Nice Paradox it is. - Let it be, Let it be - Love
Pope is dead. I see him with a Tralfamadorian dimension. All slices of life. As a side note: Tralfamadorians saw Time in it's entirety. They saw its beginning and end, thus a person's life was seen at all possible points of time of their existence and not only the moment you met them. Nice way to see someone. You could see a killer on TV and weep for he was once an innocent baby. You could see a baby and wonder what kind of Human Being-ness will he have along the way towards death. - Alas we don't see people this way. Too bad. It's a lot of fun.
Seth Godin has a new marketing book and a new website for it. It's completely idiotic. I've read most of his other books. They too are idiotic. But he is having fun. Perhaps duping us, the readers - selling us the Dream. New shapes of Dreams. Marketing the Marketing Dream. I think if I was him I would be too embarassed to constantly write so much Kaka De La Torro and maintain the excitement of continuous innovation. I am not sure that the world needs another marketing book, and from Seth Godin for that matter. I do hope that what the world needs is people teaching other people how to read and write so they can express their grievances to Governments that oppress them and articulate their commitments so that others know what you find worth living for.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
"Pretend that you’ve opened this book (although you probably have opened this book), just to find a huge onion right in the middle crease of the book. (The manufacturer of the book has included the onion at my request.)
So you’re like, “Wow, this book comes with an onion!” (Even if you don’t particularly like onions, I’m sure you can appreciate the logistics of shipping any sort of produce discreetly inside of an alleged programming manual.)
Then you ask yourself, “Wait a minute. I thought this was a book on Ruby, the incredible new programming language from Japan. And although I can appreciate the logistics of shipping any sort of produce discreetly inside of an alleged programming manual: Why an onion? What am I supposed to do with it?”
No. Please don’t puzzle over it. You don’t need to do anything with the onion. Set the onion aside and let it do something with you.
I’ll be straight with you. I want you to cry. To weep. To whimper sweetly. This book is a poignant guide to Ruby. That means code so beautiful that tears are shed. That means gallant tales and somber truths that have you waking up the next morning in the arms of this book. Hugging it tightly to you all the day long. If necessary, fashion a makeshift hip holster for Why’s (Poignant) Guide to Ruby, so you can always have this book’s tender companionship.
You really must sob once. Or at least sniffle. And if not, then the onion will make it all happen for you"
RUBY! The OFFicial PROgramming LANGuage of GOnzo MARKETING!!!
Pass The ONIONS!!!
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
A blog by a high school biology teacher and 20-something single gal in NYC. Kelly writes today "Started reproduction today. You haven't lived until you've talked about reproduction to rooms full of south Bronx teenagers.". Wow. Kelly, thanks for teaching! Gonzo Kudos to you.