I posted the following on this article (sans .gif) after Gizmodo’s mods flagged me for spam for daring to share a link in a comment pertaining to the article. It was promptly deleted, I assume for using the word twats, which is what they are.
Dear Gizmodo: When posting an article about the scuzzy practices of another website, one should always make sure that one’s own practices aren’t equally offensive. To whit: just because my comment signature contains a link, it doesn’t mean I’m spam.
Also, until you verify that the comment that wasn’t spam, isn’t spam, perhaps blocking all other posts from my email account is a wee premature.
You know that feeling you get? The one that says, “Fuck yeah, I’m awesome!” If you’re a writer, going back and reading your earlier stuff can be like time machine access to the opposite of that feeling.
And suddenly, I know what George Lucas feels like. Well, not exactly; I’m not rich, crazy*, or driven to insert Ewoks into everything. But I understand the impulse to go back in time to fix past you. It’s hard not to re-edit and just let the mistakes lie.
I read this stuff, and yeah, it’s funny. But ye gods, the adverbs! And my cavalier attitude towards punctuation.
I used to get that “Fuck yeah!” feeling every time I hit the PUBLISH button. Now I want to go back and hit Past Julian in the mangina before he has a chance to embarrass me.
I’ve discovered tonight why I love Google+ and Tumblr and why, even though most of the time it’s my favorite, I sometimes hate Twitter. Not one person in my + or Tumblr feeds has mentioned the Emmys. Guess what percentage of my Twitter feed is dedicated to them? Le Sigh.
When people use their actual names or they’re on a content sharing service instead of an opinion sharing service, they’re more inclined to be selective in what they say.
It’s sad, but thanks to last night’s GOP debate, it seems the time has come to remind right leaning Americans that the road to fascism starts with the simplest justifications and exclusions.
First they came for the communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.
No, asshats. A person without health insurance shouldn’t be left to die. And the prospect of his death should certainly never be cheered…
Or, put much more eloquently:
“…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee.”