elizabeth lane lawley
michael "OC" clarke
e v h e a d
sweet fancy moses
wood s lot
m. melting object
Saturday, August 21, 2004
You Have Been Pre-Approved
a once in a lifetime opportunity!
to those who swoon at nature's bounty
a one-way trip to Charlotte County!
this one is dedicated with affection to
9:47 PM | link |
and you bite too!
It's a beautiful cool clear sunny day here in Boulder, and I've been losing it since my eyes snapped open at 8am. I smoked a cigarette, took a piss, and swilled down the half (empty) cup of coffee from last night. Then I went back to sleep until noon. I'm so depressed I could fucking die. And I'm so tired of feeling this way I could fucking puke.
I've learned something important in these recent months, though: the depression isn't half so bad as long as I don't think about my life.
Therefore, I am practicing not thinking about my life. Of course, if I'm successful at this, I won't have anything to write about. And that would make a difference because... why? Well, because then all the people who depend on me to figure out what life is all about would be disappointed and let down and then they'd get depressed and the whole cycle would start over again. So not thinking about my life doesn't seem to be an option, even though this is a double negative. Which is what she said. And as Jimi said: I don't live today. Maybe tomorrow baby.
Here's another tip. Checking your Technorati "cosmos" doesn't help you not-to-think-about-your-life. Not one bit. So: more depression. It's fucking endless. It's despair is what it is, but since I'm trying not to be so negative, let's just call it insufficient joy. Yeah, that's it. It's not No Exit. It's Limited Egress. Because anyway, I went to Technorati (I am not only fucking depressed, I'm fucking bored), and found this piece by Andrew Goodman dated August 19 (this year of Our Lord) and titled Gonzo Blogging at Y! Search. I wondered what "Y!" meant for about five minutes. Then I got it. Oh. I guess it's like when people (not me) say: "I got an E from Kathi!" Where E = not MC2, but email. Or, loosely related (loosely, that is to say, joined): the fact that saying "dub-el-yew-dub-el-yew-dub-el-yew" takes nine syllables, but "world wide web" takes only three. I know I wouldn't think about shit like this if I weren't so fucking depressed. I just know it.
Where was I?
Oh yes. So this article by Andrew Goodman is on a site called Traffick, which I had never seen before, not giving a damn about traffic, myself, except to suggest that certain people go play in it. (btw, that was a classic hortatory subjunctive construction, for you non-native speakers and those of you playing along at home.) And I find these bits, though not necessarily in this order. They just make more sense in this order, OK?
The analysts over at JupiterMedia are trying to find a voice on their weblogs, but as "analysts," they need to be wary of being seen as "chatty," since after all, don't analysts buckle down and "analyze" for relatively princely sums? On these blogs we see a mix of terse bullet-point analysis and the use of adjectives like "crappy." Interesting, though far from the streams of profanity we used to get over at EGR.
I wonder what the cocksucker means by "used to get"? But since I'm trying to be less negative, I'll just say: WTF? And also:
...can the corporate blog live up to the high hopes expressed by people like Cluetrain Manifesto [96 used & new from $1.72] co-author (and author of an even more extreme version of the corporate-outreach argument, Gonzo Marketing [56 used & new from $0.35]) Chris Locke?
Then comes the recommendation:
Maybe a rule of thumb for blogging should be: check out EGR, see how that's done, and then pull it back a couple of notches.
Maybe I should try this myself. The only real question is how many notches I should pull it back. To not writing "cocksucker"? To not admitting that I took enough LSD to kill an entire Barnum & Bailey circus audience? To where I was before I became suicidally depressed at the idiocy that has replaced the once-human race? Or to the sad-ass psychological state I once found myself in, trying to not throw up when I said I worked for MCI and IBM?
Here's my advice: a) You can't go home again; b) Stick it in as far as you can; c) Break it off; d) Notch your belt.
But then, it seems as if maybe there's hope after all. Consider this bit from the same article:
While some believe that Microsoft can pull the rug out at any time, it's getting less credible to think this when so many of the best people work at Google and Yahoo!, and so many customers both love and respect these companies (whereas they merely respect Microsoft).
Oh yeah, I respect Microsoft, you bet. Let me tell you sometime how they fucked up my phone bill with their cocksucking MSN "service" to the point I got locked off the net because some dildo customer "service" cocksucker added a second account to my bill when I asked him to kill the one I had. For like the 37th time. But never mind all that.
Let us focus instead on that phrase "love and respect," which is linked to lovemarks.com, and which moreover, as you can see from their logo, has the tagline: "the future beyonds brands." In other words, brands that don't really seem like brands because you -- yes, YOU, THE EYEBALLS -- love them. Fuckin love em to death. Hmmm, where have I heard this sort of thing before? I scratch my head. Then I look down at the bottom of the page and see...
On the off chance that you don't already know -- like if you've been stranded in Antarctica for the last 40 years -- Saatchi & Saatchi is an advertising agency. A big one. A hip one. Oh yeah. Why lovemarks even has a Community! Can you beat that shit? And you -- -- yes, YOU, THE EYEBALLS -- can even nominate and vote for your most beloved not-really-trademarks. Which is to say: "lovemarks." Goddam! Is this big fun or what?
So naturally, I made clocke nominate me. I threatened him with the merciless superego lash again. One little flick of the whip is all it takes these days. So I took control of his carpals and metacarpals and made him type...
RageBoy® literally changed my life. Before he came around, the Internet was boring and gray. Then one day this strange character appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and suddenly the web began to glow, sort of like that scene at the end of Repo Man where Oscar and the Plate-O-Shrimp guy get into the radioactive Malibu and take off over Los Angeles. It's true that RageBoy® is a bit deranged, but that's just because he's been trapped on this planet for so long. RageBoy® has inspired love and confidence among many, including recent alien abductees and senior vice presidents of marketing. He has many passionate followers who value his discerning sense of fine art and use of colorful language. Among net cognoscenti, he is widely sought after for his online business acumen and deep grasp of personal finance. Plus, he's so accessible, I almost feel I know him.
So listen, if they lose their minds over there at lovebites (and you bite too) or whateverthefuck it's called, and they put up my glowing testimonial to myself, I don't have to tell you -- especially this year -- how important it is for each and every one of you to get out there and
6:29 PM | link |
Friday, August 20, 2004
no, not really a REAL wolf
10:12 PM | link |
with a lot of help from my friends
Thanks to you (some of you, you know who you are), I was able to get Qwest to reinstate my phone service in the past hour, and thus not only make calls, but also get back online. Whew! What a weird, lonely feeling to be so cut out and out of touch. So I'm glad that's over -- at least for a while, until the electric company shuts me down. Hell, it's like fightin off the damn Revenooers in the back woods of Appalachia! Can't a man run a little still to make his own personal moonshine? And well, since I quit drinking 20+ years ago, blogging has become my own personal moonshine. 'Ceptin of course if y'all would like ta take a hit. Here, let me pass the jug around. Since I already done passed the plate.
Anyway, and despite all that, I can't thank you enough. Making this short so I can send it before I have to run out of here and pick up my meds and see my analyst. And before that, I need to brew another cup of coffee. Details, details, no wonder my life is so... well, let's just call it "complicated."
2:46 PM | link |
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
(locke made me do it)
Yeah I made him do it. Are you kidding?
The worthless sot. Might as well get some use out of him.
The truth is, I'm terrified over here. My bank account is a couple hundred dollars in
the red, there's three bucks and change left in my PayPal account, and
I've got 20 dollars or so in my wallet. Plus, I've been squatting in this
condo for well over a year and they're about to kick me out. In six weeks
to be precise. With cops and dogs and fire hoses probably. And me and the
kitty and the 12 million books, where are we gonna go then? I've tried
to make this all sound like a jolly old lark, but it's spooky as hell,
and I'm really scared. I've always told you the truth, right? Well... no.
I haven't. But this is the down-and-dirty hand-on-the-Bible straight-up
no-shit fact: I am looking at living on the street and it's even more depressing than being depressed. I am
seriously freaking, wigging out, rending my garment like those weirdos
in the Old Testament. This is not funny. This ain't no disco. Like I ever thought it
was a disco! And yes, you can now give me all sorts of good advice like
that I should get serious and snap out of it and cut my hair and get a
job. All of which I agree with. Except I'm not sure if I cut my hair how
I should style it. I'm open to suggestions.
But... Yes, of course there's a "but." I haven't totally lost
And the "but" is this: you must pay!
Yeah, yeah, I realize none of this is your fault, but hey, who said life
was fair? Just shut the fuck up and get your wallets out, OK?
So here's my plan...
Talk to RageBoy on the
This represents a whopping 99.75% discount off
the $20,000 per hour fee we got for speaking all over the motherfucking world
in 2000-2001 before we went bonkers and couldn't function there for a couple-three
years due to (as far as we can figure it): 1) Multiple Personality Disorder
(MPD); 2) Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID); 3) Borderline Personality
Disorder (BPD); 4) Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD); 5) Bad Attitude
Attention Deficit Disorder (BAADD); or, and most likely, 6) All of the Above
For Up to One Whole HOUR!
~~~ Only 50 Bucks! ~~~
So, simply pick from the following pull-down menus...
Yes, it's as simple as that! And who wouldn't want to chat with someone guaranteed to be more messed up than themselves?
Plus, once you have forked over the cash, you will be redirected to this
lovely letter of thanks (Certificate of Authenticity included), which we
reproduce here for the benefit of all the cheapskate skinflints who wouldn't
give us a band aid if we were bleeding. Because see? We don't hold any
grudges or bear ill will toward those lower beings who just don't seem
to know where it's at and are too wrapped up in their own little problems
to care about others of lesser fortune. No, we wouldn't stoop to their
level and sully our karma. Life is just too short to become enmeshed in
such petty and unworthy delusions.
Uh... but where were we? Oh yes, the lovely letter of thanks, right...
I really needed that.
want to do this right, so I have included the PayPal instructions
below, in [enter exact color here].
Ready? OK, here we go then...
Now see? That wasn't so hard, was
it? Except now you're out 50 bucks, because RageBoy® is the world's
most boring conversationalist, especially if you were expecting him
to sound anything like the way he writes. So: caveat emptor, Valued
- Per the user agreement,
you must provide verbiage on the page displayed by the Return
URL that will help the buyer understand that the payment
has been made and that the transaction has been completed.
The page you are
now reading is the aforesaid "Return URL," hereinafter
referred to as The Page You Are Reading. Do you understand
this? Good. We will now help you understand that you
have given us money. Are you ready? Is your #2 pencil
sharp and poised to take this down? Good. Then listen
carefully: being of sound mind (presumably, though it
could be argued) you have given us money of your own
free will. You have at no time left your money unattended.
You are not carrying firearms, box cutters, or any sort
of explosive device. Please step over to the window and
remove your shoes. Thank you. Now put them back on. Thank
you. You understand that you have paid this money so
that RageBoy® -- out of sheer financial desperation
-- will talk to you on the telephone for up to one whole
HOUR about anything you care to kick around. The Transaction
of the First Part (where you gave us the money) has now
been completed. We suspect you already knew that, but
this verbiage is just to make double sure. Put your hands
on your head. Put your hands on your hips. Good. Thank
you. You may now board the airplane.
- You must provide
verbiage on the page displayed by the Return URL that explains
that payment transaction details will be emailed to the
The Page You Are Reading
is now about to esplain you what is gonna happen next. Comprende?
Bueno. Press 1 for English. Excellent. You're one of us
then. What a relief. Do you play polo, perchance? Well,
we can discuss that later. For the moment, these are your
instructions. Sit by your terminal. (Try not to wiggle around
so much.) Wait. Soon, you will receive some sort of communication
explaining something important. We don't have clue one what
it will say, but it will probably sound like it was written
by a committee. Some sort of details will be included about
how you (the Party of the First Part) and we (the Parties
of the Second & Third Parts) are going to conclude The
Transaction of the Second Part, i.e., the part where RageBoy® talks
with you on the telephone for up to one whole HOUR -- out
of sheer financial desperation. It will probably include
our email address, but if it doesn't, here it is now: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Also, here is our telephone number: (720)
304-8077. However, if you call and you have not
yet paid us fifty (50) dollars of American money, we will
only speak to you abusively in various fake foreign accents
of our choice for a period of up to but not exceeding 26
- Example: Thank you
for your payment. Your transaction has been completed, and
a receipt for your purchase has been emailed to you...
Thank you for your
payment. Your transaction has been completed, and a receipt
for your purchase has been emailed to you...
But whoops, too late now!
OF COURSE, IT'S NOT REALLY TOO
BUT PLEASE DO GIVE GENEROUSLY, WON'T YOU?
(otherwise, the kitty gets it)
8:38 AM | link |
Monday, August 16, 2004
it's lonely at the top
I'll have to remember to check back in a couple days to see if they fell for this one. Click on the grafik to see the actual product listing. And to think Bezos could be paying me to do something constructive!
2:00 AM | link |
Sunday, August 15, 2004
it's up to you
and coyote say tell me about it, doc, I know...
so long it
up to me
and moreover: cold is not false heat. to be continued...
7:53 PM | link |
and now a word from our sponsor
we'll be right back after this...
Well, I seem to have accomplished zip today. But I did find a site where I could test my self-esteem. Evidently, I didn't do too good. But with questions like this, what could I expect?
27. Ugh, you get a huge zit on picture day. You:
Turns out the whole thing is created by some zit cream outfit. "Feeling good about yourself has a lot to do with your appearance. When you have zits, you don't like the way you look. You don't like the way others see you..." Uh-huh. I wonder if they've got a Prozac cream you can rub on your ass? Feel all fucking wonderful. Provoke instant estrus in superhot babes. So I guess I would have to say that scientific rigor was something of a problem with this particular testing instrument. Also, maybe this shit works for... uh... unsightly facial blemishes (did I get that right?), but christ on a crutch! look what it does to your fucking eyes!
- Fake illness and stay home
- Get my parents to take me to the best dermatologist in town � ASAP!
- Try to cover it up, then grin and bear it
- Do nothing. I get zits all the time
Yeah, well, anyway, whatever. Here's what I got...
Yeah, go ahead and click there, where it will tell you: "During the first few weeks of treatment, itching, dryness, redness, burning or peeling may occur."
What it doesn't tell you is that if you use this stuff for two months you have a 45% chance of turning into a NEGRO! And what's that gonna do for your self-esteem, huh? How's that gonna change "the way others see you"?
Does Your Self-Esteem Need a Makeover?
chris, your self-esteem could use
A Little Boost
Whatever. OK, so maybe you're not a total wastoid, but you might have a
touch of slacker in you. While marching to the beat of your own drummer
is great, being apathetic isn't going to get you anywhere.
Maybe you don't worry about consequences or maybe you just don't care.
Either way, showing passion for your interests and taking care of
yourself are two ways you can feel happier every day! When you find
something you can put your energy toward � besides sleeping or being
negative � you'll find that life is that much more interesting, and you
will be, too! So take a more active interest in school, a hobby, a job,
or some other activity that inspires you, and you'll see your
So go ahead and give your self-esteem a boost. Clearer skin could be
just the lift you need to have unblemished confidence. Click here to see how you can give your complexion a boost.
Self-esteem. How to pretend you're someone else when you basically hate who you are.
Self-esteem. Don't leave home without it.
12:58 AM | link |
"RageBoy: Giving being fucking nuts a good name since 1985."
28 October 2004
||More of Chris Locke's photos
Until a minute ago, I had no photos. I still have no photos to speak of.
I don't even have a camera. But all these people were linking to "my photos."
It was embarassing. It's still embarassing. But I'm used to that.
what I'm listening to...
egr on topica
on yahoo groups
terms of service
It is too late.