There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Logs of Blote

Whenever I sign into blogger I am met with the familiar frame in the lower right section of the page that contains the current "blogs of note." Because you never know what might end up being a wonderful spot of writing, I will occasionally look at the list and, should a name seem appealing, give it a read. Unfortunately, the powers that be at blogger and myself do not see eye-to-eye when it comes to what we judge to be noteworthy blogs. I hesitate to anonymously trash one such blog, and that's why I will trash two. Besides, the internet was practically designed for anonymously trashing other people. I'm also not that anonymous.

At the top of the list was a blog called decadent tranquility. Each post contains an originally created fractal or some other form of artwork, each of which is accompanied by prose that the author states is inspired by the attached work. Everything falls into a greater framework, but in general adheres to a non-linear progression. There is also a link at the top to a fansite. The excerpts contained there showed me more than enough. The blogger's profile paints him as a cheery fellow, if not overly so, and, regrettably, a Norah Jones fan. I suppose the presence of The Shadow of the Torturer under his favorite books should have been another strong warning sign. I often consider myself a rather nerdly individual, but then I remember there are award-winning books like that and I am reminded of my sometimes old-fashioned linguistic tastes, which include an aversion to gibberish-like science-fiction names and terminologies when my man Jean Luc is not involved. Then again, I'm reading Updike right now and I can't be sure it's really any better.

Another noted blog on the list was the "Juiced Sports Blog." I found the layout alone quite nauseous, but some grammatical miscues succeeded in dropping its stock further. I am fully aware how needlessly I can be a prick about these things, especially when I am not immune to errors myself, but you've gotta have your standards. Yeah, gotta, I know that is a bastardization and I did it on purpose. Most of my beef is clearly with Blogger, not the bloggers. I just don't deal well with hype. If something comes recommended, I feel like I'm supposed to like it. That's why you have to know who you're taking those recommendations from.

What did get me juiced about that sports blog though, was a list of the ten worst hairstyles in sports. Anytime you make a list like this it is almost certainly doomed. That's why I am not bothering to come up with a competing list of my own. One, of many, potential problems is what I like to call the Beckham Factor™: any hairstyle adopted by David Beckham will potentially be deemed cool and/or adopted by one-third of the adult British male population.

In the course of this entry I've decided to focus a little more on things I enjoy rather than griping about things like being overcharged $1.50 on an improperly-filled bagel order; suck it Zaro's. In that spirit, I present this wonderful commercial for Frankie and Johnnie's. Makes me want to move to New Orleans…

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