April 22, 2005
bandwidth just got lighterIt's fun to daydream. At 11:16a on this Friday morning, I tried to click on over to Gawker and found that it (and the Denton family of shareholder-value-increasers) was down. Down, I tell you! Like, my two minutes worth of snarky gossip, unavailable, frozen in the bowels of some server whose connectivity was no longer so connective. And then, I began to wonder.
All that bandwidth has to go somewhere, right? When one of the titanic attention-sucks of these Internets goes offline, all those clicks, initially aimed at Gawker (or some other attention-suck), will end up settling on some option A or B, creating weird and unexpected tides of eyballs surging. I imagine second-choice websites and blogs getting sudden surges of hits, as end-users' interest finds some place to land. Almost like the baby booms rumored to follow nine months after blackouts and ice storms. We have no power -- we must have sex. We have no Gawker -- we must read Fark.
Of course, Gawker was back up at 11:17a.
Posted by mrbrent at 11:19 AM
April 21, 2005
dork first classThis may firmly identify my personal demographic. It may well be more than you want to know about me.
But maybe the most novel thing about being married is that you walk around all day feeling like Green Lantern.
Posted by mrbrent at 5:13 PM
farewell to all thatIt's time to put the pope posts to bed. Though it's tempting to pope it up every day or two, just to lift my flagging spirits.
Also, it's time to shut up with the pope/Nazi jokes. Yeah, they're funny and everything, but they're funny like Micheal Jackson jokes. No more low hanging fruit! Joining the Hitler Youth in 1941 was compulsory, like having feathered hair in 1983. Let's move on.
Yes, let's move on to inquisition jokes. The new pope has been the prefect for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith since 1981. The name "Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith" is the Holy See's "KFC" to the "Kentucky Fried Chicken" of "the Inquisition". A rose by any other name still spends its working days serving theological justice -- cold, just like you like it.
Try saying it: "Nobody expects the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith!" Also, the word "heresy" is about as fun a word as it gets.
One last time: poooooooooooope!
Posted by mrbrent at 12:12 PM
April 20, 2005
testing the first amendment in the workplaceSo, I have this job. I've been there a while -- coming up on ten years. This job falls roughly within the confines of the filmed entertainment industry. It is custom within the filmed entertainment industry to frequently attend (and, if you are unlucky, throw) parties. These are not parties in the conventional sense, like a birthday party or a tea party. The idea behind these parties is to a) make it seem like it is exclusive, so that important people will want to come to it; b) offer something free (or, if you are unlucky, offer everything for free); and c) taunt the fire capacity of the venue as every assistant and intern within thirty miles invades (exclusivity tends to be inversely proportionate with ease of access for crashers). It's like Lord of the Flies, sponsored by a stunt vodka and with a looser dress code. That sums it up, though I'm glossing over the casual assholery.
Naturally, I've never been a big fan of the un-fun parties. Which is hard to believe, given the amounts of free booze. Basically, I've realized that free booze in an upleasant enviroment is not worth my free time, which could be devoted to actually working, or cooking for my wife, or even spending time in a non-free booze enviroment. It's hard to tell what's worse about these functions: the crush of greedy neophytes with their business cards and their "Hey, man"s, the clots of leathery veterans who can kiss ass while they put the knife in the back or the garden variety jerks, three deep at the open bar and lined six long at the bathrooms.
Further, bitchety bitch bitch. Yes, this is the bleakest version of these events, because, "Oh, they're very nice, there's always someone that you're happy you ran into," isn't very fun to type.
There are good parties within the filmed entertainment industry, of course. They tend to be smaller and less exclusive. Less vulgarly ambitious, star-fucky. The people at these who seem like they're on coke are actually on coke, and not just obnoxious. More fun, let's say.
So I've been trying to come up with a working defense to the bad parties for some years now. Schedule conflicts was v1.1, which was followed by v1.2 -- unexcused absense. Then came v2, which was "try to fit in". That was icky, because I don't. I'd give myself points for trying, but I'd rather give myself points for pulling the plug on that one.
Finally v3, which I'll be trying out in the next little while. The theory behind it is that I will show up, but leave very early. Why? I don't want to have to risk befriending any strangers that I might have to be on the other side of down the road. I call it the "Bob Gibson" defense.
And now I am the deadliest unspecified filmed entertainment employee in the universe.
Posted by mrbrent at 12:58 PM
April 19, 2005
who wants to play risk?Re: the last post. Never mind.
Looks like someone ran out of Papa John's coupons.
Soon, the world will be able to again sleep peacefully, as we will have been re-poped.
Posted by mrbrent at 12:16 PM
what are they smokingIt's Tuesday morning, the 19th of April. And still no pope.
Even with all the Cardinals and their dinner-theater version of an Agatha Christie locked-room mystery, and the fun with smoke signals, still no pope.
What if some ecclesiastical emergency arises? Who popes then? What if God calls on the Batphone in the Vatican and someone answers who is not the pope? "No pope? You know who this is, right?" True, this day has no saints or feasts, but, what if? What is a moveable feast without a pope? Who popes the watchmen?
Posted by mrbrent at 10:28 AM
April 18, 2005
i'm trying to have a morning hereAt first I thought that Time was having an "In The Year 2000" retro issue. As usual, I was wrong.
At the supermarket on the way to work, I saw Ann Coulter's mysteriously slowly ageing face chewing up the scenery on the cover of the magazine. It scared the holy shit out of me.
And no, the cover story is no fond look back on Coulter's relentless whoring of her "I'm all hate-y" gimmick. It's a profile. Apparently, Carrot Top was all booked up this week.
Maybe the Time editors thought that a cover of no relevance whatsoever (except to her publisher) would be a restful tonic to a nation worn out by weeks of pope-pope-popitty-pope. Or maybe the editors lost a bet. Either way, I they're spending the $500 that Ron Silver gave them wisely.
[Note: I'm not going to link the cover, because, really, we've all seen the shot before. Imagine Coulter, leaning forward, counting-money-in-her-head smug, her weird old-lady legs in the foreground. Same shot that runs with every profile of her, and the same one I'll use to scare my children into compliance, should I have some.]
Posted by mrbrent at 11:31 AM