Holding my tongue. Holding my tongue. Holding my tongue.

When people are too irrational to bother arguing with, there are a few strategies that can be used. PZ Myers is a proponent of ridicule, and that seems to be fairly effective in many cases. However, if no intervention is required in order to prevent harm to third parties, I prefer to go with the tested and true “don’t feed the trolls” method (if you can call it a method, considering that it calls for doing absolutely nothing). Trolls can eat anything. Even completely ignoring them can occasionally encourage them. However, if a tree falls in the forest blah blah blah, and I think something about a black box full of question marks or an orbiting teapot might be relevant here as well.

One of my favourite applications of troll non-feeding is from The Simpsons episode “Treehouse of Horror VI”, where the characters are sold on the idea that “if people stop paying attention to [advertising], pretty soon, it goes away” by a jingle, performed by Paul Anka. Of course, “advertising” here refers to monstrous commercial mascots brought to life by an ionic disturbance, but if you take the word “monsters” metaphorically, this little song provides excellent instructions for handling bullshit (and it’s currently stuck in my head):

Paul Anka: To stop those monsters 1-2-3,
Here’s a fresh new way that’s trouble-free,
It’s got Paul Anka’s guarantee…
Lisa: Guarantee void in Tennessee.
All: Just don’t look! Just don’t look!
Just don’t look! Just don’t look!
Just don’t look! Just don’t look!

It’s hard to remain passive when confronted by painful levels of stupid (I’ve been struggling all day), but together, we can do it!

I’d tell you who inspired me to post this, but they’re egosurfers, and I don’t want to feed them. If you get information from the same sources as me, and know anything about me (both semi-likely, if you’re reading this), you might be able to guess. But don’t. Because then they will have won.

Midnight schmidnight

Midnight is a pretty silly concept. Personally, I would choose to change the date at dawn. But if you’re going to have the calendar flip at midnight, at least make it the proper solar midnight. The whole calendar and time system on this planet is batshit. Whatever. My point is this: I consider birthdays to be the 24 hour(ish) (a day is not 24 hours long) period surrounding someone’s time of birth. Probably. I’m not goofy enough to check into how different measurements of the concept of a “year” might affect things. I’m not sure I remember what time I was born. But I think it was 4:10am EST or something? Which means my birthday began at 4:10pm EST today, and I don’t have to wait until midnight for you to start buying me stuff and being nice to me.The end. Okay, I don’t expect you to buy me stuff. And you should be nice to me all the time. So what is my point? I don’t know, but it’s my birthday, so I don’t need one (as if I ever worry about that kind of thing).

I never did believe in luck

Thinking yourself “lucky” is to deny credit for success. Thinking yourself “unlucky” is to deny responsibility for failure. Big duh right there. Common sense.

Of course, I don’t believe in common sense, either. I readily admit that much of my “common sense” comes from good ol’ book learnin’. Whatever I know about luck probably comes from some epistemological blather I can’t remember reading during grade school.

In any case, I’m clumsily expanding into words the above chunk of my “luck” gestalt for my own benefit, because I think it was losing integrity (,captain).

Concept and principle reestablished. Carry on as usual.

Dipshit of the day

So, some douche that I had no prior contact with posted this shit on Twitter:

If you’re looking for #emo this #christmas, just follow @candice. She’ll make you want to cut your eyes out. TAGGED: #suicide #drama #xmas

(I’m pretty sure, no matter what he says, that it’s because he wants me… Because from his following messages with mentions of my sister and my husband it’s obvious that he’s been up to some creepy stalker action.)

When I wondered what the fuck, this was his explanation:

@candice the deal is free #advertising. You tweets and complaints = my success :) Just look at Lindsay Lohan or Brittney Spears for example

@candice overall it’s a social/twitter experiment and you were the lucky rabbit pulled out of the hat. Ya digg?

It seems that he just searches certain keywords all day and then insults people who show up in the results. Obviously a brilliant marketing technique. I’m sure he has many such wonderful ideas, because his bio states that he is a computer guru. </sarcasm> (100% of people who describe themselves as gurus are fucktards.)

He then gives this advice when I point out that that’s fucking dumb as shit:

@candice be careful what you say online, reputation is everything :)

Seriously, guy? You’re the one posting drive-by insults. I’m the last person who needs advice about the internet, anyway. Me and the internet, we’re pals. We go way back. We understand each other. Be careful what I say online? Totally not into that. I say whatever I feel like saying, and if people have a problem with it, it’s generally because they suck, so I’m not about to give a rat’s ass.

But I think he was really trying to say that tweeting about what a jerkoff he is benefits him, because he goes on to post this snarky BS:

@candice not really giving advice, just a reminder. You publicly tweeted about my feed. I’ve gained 10 of your followers so far. :)

Which, by the way, is a lie. Observe:

thinkclay

0 < 10 (most of the followers he does have appear to be bots) (note to idiot: real people generally do not end their username with four random numbers)

He further explains the genius of his idea:

@candice it’s all a test for a client, twitter is a model that’s great for basing startups. This idea involves negative tweets to draw attn.

Society loves negativity. THRIVES off it in fact. You of all people should understand that. Angst music is one of the most common forms

@candice Brittney Spears. Are you a millionaire? Didn’t think so. Success can be measured in many ways. You’ve just proven mine.

He is right that negativity gets attention, but I don’t think he understands that not all attention is good attention. The keyword I used that led him to me was “Magento”. He just so happens to have a blog that has lots of Magento-related content. Hooray, you succeeded in getting my attention. But will I bookmark your site? No. Because I think you’re a douchebag. Your “client” (if said client actually exists…) could get a lot of attention, sure, but I don’t think telling people that they “make you want to cut your eyes out” is going to get positive results (*cough* negativity begets negativity). But he’s a guru, so he probably knows that a high click-through rate doesn’t mean squat if those resulting hits don’t convert…

And again with the trainwreck misspelled celebrity example. I do not believe that Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan became famous because someone insulted them. Other way around, I think I recall. But aside from that, posting negative things about fuck ups doesn’t get the same reaction as, say, posting negative things about me. Insulting Britney Spears is socially acceptable, because she’s a mess. But insulting me just makes you look like a jerkass, on account of the fact that I am awesome (as anybody with any sense knows). I mentioned him in my feed, yes, but since it was to point out his shit talking, and because people that follow me tend to like me (or they wouldn’t follow me, ya digg?), I don’t think it led to much success for him (i.e. none of my followers are following him, and several agreed that he’s a turdburger).

Oh, and I bet he finds this, because he looooooooooooves me. I blocked his ass, but he’s probably obsessively reloading my Twitter page right at this very moment. It’ll probably give him an ego boost, but whatevs. I just couldn’t believe his level of stupid, and pointing out extreme stupidosity was the original (somewhat failed) purpose of this site, so ta da.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, switch

Tried to sleep. Didn’t take. My thoughts are racing, but I’m not thinking anything, so it’s difficult to stop. Just random sounds and concepts repeating. Over and over and over again. Because that’s what repeating means. I’m restless, but paralyzed. It’s a very uncomfortable state of being. This happens to me now and then. Eventually, the restlessness overpowers the paralysis. How that built up energy manifests itself, that’s what I can never predict. I guess it depends what sort of mood I’m in when my brain reaches that singularity. What will it be this time? Creativity or destruction? At the moment, all I know is that this is giving me a headache.

Delete

I’m a digital packrat. I have email saved one 5ΒΌ-inch floppies, archives of FidoNet groups I posted to, and every stupid thought I mashed out of my keyboard while under the influence of alcohol, drugs, stupidity, depression or looniness. I never delete anything. But I just deleted every unfinished draft that was hanging around in WordPress. They were holding me back. I was still planning to “get around to posting” plenty of it, but the thing is… if I wasn’t interested enough to finish at the time, there’s no way I’ll ever bother now, especially when the idea isn’t fresh in my mind.

The rest of them were cryptic things like “Why are they eating their lunch in a library?” that were meant to be starting points to longer blog entries I never got to (and eventually forgot even what they were meant to be about), several rants about Comcast that I decided no one needed to be subjected to, and once-topical posts that would make absolutely no sense now that it’s years later.

So, goodbye to that crap. I don’t feel obligated to finish any of it any more. I do feel obligated to post here more often, though. Clearing the detritus out of my head, onto the Internet, where it could be free, used to be therapeutic. Yes, this blog is my mind’s garbage disposal. Or, to use another metaphor (I hate metaphors), my words are puppies that I’m setting free in the woods because I can’t be arsed to take care of them anymore. They’ll be better off on their own. It’s the right thing to do. Those words never did like being cooped up inside, anyway.

If somebody else has any purpose for what I write, that’s their own problem. Personally, I rarely look back at anything I’ve posted. I don’t bother proofreading, either. By the time I’m at the end of whatever I’m babbling, I usually can’t even remember what I’d started writing about in the first place. This junk is just one wrung above stream-of-consciousness. I just want my ideas gone, so they’re no longer my responsibility. Ideas are troublesome little bastards to have bouncing around in your brain. You deal with them!

Oh, yeah. I also want to start not being a dumbshit who never updates her blog, again, because I’ve completely fallen out of the habit of writing. Usually when I’m not posting here, I’m still scribbling away in 87 notebooks, but I haven’t written anything for a while other than notes for things I want to write but probably never will (because I’ll forget what the notes mean and/or be unable to read my own craptastic handwriting by the time I get around to it).

Encourage me and comment, or something.

I’m not suicidal, I just can’t get out of bed.

Wrote this on the 1st, but obviously couldn’t figure out how to post it from my phone in my inebriated state:

So I can still have food and blog. But don’t get me wet. Watchin’ our pals set at… whatever bar this is. Stayted with M I’m rewasonably sure. Drink, drank, drunk, lovely Saturday, despite irritating weather. Got up 10;30am or so, clearedb out my interbutt obligations, then lazed. Now hanging out drunkening. ‘Tis great. Forget the shitty week that came before, and the one that comes shortly. Nod your head to the beat. Get fuckin’ drunk. I wish the rest of my week was like this. Starving artistry is the life for me. <3

So yeah. I got my wish today. Starving artistry it is. Job’s not here. Job went away. Job’s gone.

[edit] The first bit of that thar blockquote refers to the original title, which was something like “It’s still before midnight.” Was trying to stick to daily posting. I’m failing, oh well. [/edit]