Sunday, October 17, 2021

Kombinat! Closing Time

This will be quick. Just a quick moment in Internet time... time, ti ti tim e. puff, oof, pow pow.

And I loved you when our love was blessed, And I love you now that there's nothing left but sorrow and a sense of overtime, overtime, overtime...

Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances And one in their time play many parts...first, .... And then the blogger

Out, out, brief candle! a poor blogger, that struts and frets his hour upon a stage, And then is heard no more. 

It's a tale told by a blogger. You know the rest.

In 2004 I had an idea while looking at what's happening with blogging, but I could not articulate it, and I still can not articulate it after 17 years? I know, I must be stupid, or was I born this way? or grew up this way? 

I named that thing I did not understand: Kombinat!, Conversation Disposal Machine, a human constructed machinery to harvest all the conversations humans have with each other and turn it into profit, but as a byproduct they would dispose of conversations

In essence Conversations in the end became the Waste, unless you could engage more people in the conversation to keep squeezing the profit. 

The conversations did not have to keep getting better, or smarter, or lead towards solving real world problems. The machine only wanted humans to engage endlessly with conversations as conversations that lead to nowhere. It did not matter what the conversations were about, it didn't matter if the same conversation was happening over and over in a loop, it only mattered that people were engaged, talking, chatting, typing, visiting, scrolling, being there, their eyes glued on, for as long as possible. 

Because the Conversation Disposal Machine used it as a raw material to create profit from engagement and not from having meaningful conversations. 

The value was not in Conversations, conversations were a mere byproduct, a raw material from which to make profit and turn it to waste.

For a transactional person it was probably clearly visible what was happening with social media, but for the poets, artists, sensitive people, seeing the world with their hearts it was invisible. It was invisible to me. 

I could not understand why humans would create such a Conversation Disposal Machine like Facebook... well, it does not matter now. I give up. They won, and the place got wrecked, and I just don't care what happens next. Looks life freedom, but it feels like death. It's something in between, I guess... It's Closing Time.

Kombinat Manifesto is No More. It's now a Conversation Disposal Machine at High Operational Excellence.

Go hug someone you love ! 

If you don't have someone you love, find someone to love unconditionally. 

Trust me, it's worth it. 

Peekaboo! Peekaboo! I see you! I love you!

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,

downturned gaze 

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, 

predators deterred,

Afternoon showers ushering tomatoes, peppers, beans skyward. 

And this summer. 

A harvest cut short.  

Crops giving way to 

deep-rooted weeds,

Sprouting fever, chills, choking, gasping. 

Gone, the pickup, 

Gone, the mower,

Gone the tiller and tools. 

Ashes to ashes

vent to vent,

Moonlight mischief

lights a path home. 

And who will tend 

To his garden now? 

Thursday, August 13, 2020

Here We Go Again ...right?

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?

There's a New Sheriff In Town! Actually Two.

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

What if we just blogged together again?

A long long time ago, we used to blog for everything.

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.

Now I am still encouraging people to have their own websites and do fun things with them, but that can feel like a lot of tinkering.

So, I'm back here, trying again. Thinking in public. Join me?

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

It's not exactly like riding a bicycle. You do forget. You forget how to find the path to the center of the labyrinth. You forget how to post. At least I did. But it is a little like riding a bike, or skating. Who said that success was measured by the algorithm fall down seven times but get up eight times? Does that make any sense at all?

Pray for absent friends. And if anyone runs into Brian Moffatt, tell him to give us a shout.

On Schedule

As in the original directions, here I am again, 6 years later.  The ephemeral vibrations of mystic harmonic convergences (gotcha! you though it would be something else, one specific word, following mystic, right?) resulted in a reflexive, somewhat Calvinist urge or need to come here and post.

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.
I was hoping that when I clicked over here today, after about, oh, five years of dicking around elsewhere, I would see that Marek, J. Maybe Elvis, had been over here writing the world right.

But he's not here.

It's okay. He'll come back. We'll all be back.
If you think that this blog will ever die, get unmade, forgotten, or abandoned, then you don't know us. Blogger, you're hosting us for life. You win.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Gonzo 2.0

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

Birch Point Resort, Hayward, Wisconsin

Sandy’s 65th birthday was approaching and she was planning a party. The people at Birch Point Resort in Hayward spoiled those plans and appear to have cheated her out of a substantial sum of money. To find out more about Sandy's situation, click here. To add the power of the almighty word of mouth to balance out the tourist industry astro-turf, link-up and shine the light of conversation on these shady practices.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

wow--i never really envisioned this.

it has to really suck to be a bulldog bitch on the rag  -- in spider man boxers especially.


Powered by Qumana

someone didn't get the memo...

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

1000tags going wild...

the big thang is offering a free tag if you post and link. Thank you, I'll take one!

Friday, January 06, 2006

Taking Care of Business

Although my name and bio currently appear on the site, I am no longer associated with The Content Factor. As I've indicated previously, information relative to my business can be found on my current sites: and, and the number of blogs and other publications I write for.

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

Why is this space blank and seeming not editable?

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

home sweet home






happy birthday RGE.
my home.

Friday, September 09, 2005

marekj is back. This time as himself which hasn't happend in a long time. I believe I stopped writing as marekj on the web about in the spring of 2002. Here we are now then 3 years later.

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.

Technorati Tags: ,

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

To Troll or Not to Troll, That Is the Question by John C Mahler

The uninfluential columnists should be defined here. These are people whom you've never heard of, but whom other uninfluential A-list distopianist columnists all know. I reckon there are about 500 of them. He (or she) influences other like-minded columnists, creating a groupthink form of critical mass, just like atomic fission, as they bounce off each other with repetitive cross-links: trackback links, self-congratulatory links, confirmations, and praise-for-their-genius links. BOOM! You get a formidable explosion—an A-bomb of groupthink. You could get radiation sickness if you happen to be in the area. Except for PC Magazine, nobody is in the area, so nobody outside the groupthink community really cares about any of this. These explosions are generally self-contained and harmless to the environment.

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:—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

A blinding flash of obvious

What if I made myself as a business entity. What if I could completely became a corporation. I substitute myself for corporation. This would be a new type of citizen possibility. Equal.

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

a sort of a homecoming

Sending Hello! Been a while. Travelled a bit. Visited many places. So now I shall welcome myself back. Back to this conversation creation molecular realignment of meaning making production.

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

Gonzo Programming Language Manual.

Why's (Poignant) Guide to Ruby :: 2. Kon'nichi wa, Ruby:

"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

SpamBlog: 3 Dish Network Satellite TV Dish Network Free Instal

3 Dish Network Satellite TV Dish Network Free Instal. Excellent usage of Blogger by spammers.

Gonzo Engaged Blogger

Stories from the Front Lines
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.