Category Archives: Social Media

The Eagles Nailed It

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said, ‘we are all just prisoners here, of our own device’
And in the master’s chambers,
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can’t kill the beast

“Hotel California” ~ 1976

~*~

The Daily Spur

More Things I Hate

I see it’s up to me to break up the syrupy brunch of Mommy Day posts full of flowers and pancakes and goopity goo, mm yes please I would like another mimosa hold the OJ thanks…

What was I saying? Oh! Yes, things I hate. Let’s start with slide. No, I’m not talking about those things in the park next to the swings. I’m talking about the absolutely enraging expression “it was a slide into the DMs.” If you haven’t been living under a rock, you know that this is the stupid way young people describe encountering one another privately on a social media site for romantic/ sexual purposes.

In other words, he sent her a message.

For fuck’s sake. We already have normal words like message, text, and email. We don’t need this idiotic slide thing. It drives me bananas.

Next up is drop. This is a word we use in its appropriate sense all the time as in these examples:

1. He drops women after three dates.

2. Don’t drop the baby, Grandma!

3. I dropped the package off at FedEx.

In the past, we had a perfectly good word to describe the action of an artist releasing a new piece of work, whether a song, album, book, painting, etc. We used the word release, in fact! But now these irritating people are using the word drop just to annoy me.

“My single dropped at midnight.”

It sounds like code for a spy operative. “The dog didn’t bark?”

“No, he was poisoned by the double agent.”

“Funny, I thought you were the double agent.”

“Well, actually–”

😡😡😡

Even more things I hate coming soon!

Denial

Alyssa tweets that we should deny sex to protest strict abortion bans, and while I am Pro-Choice, her idea is wacky. Only women who believe the same will be on board, and most of them are already with like-minded men, so we’re punishing men who agree with us? Not to mention the fact that sex shouldn’t be used as a prize. Plus the fact that the anti-sex people couldn’t be more thrilled. 🙄

~*~

Via Sammi

My Social Media Ranked

Although this reminds me of a game of pool, it’s actually a fun prompt from John Holton: rank your social media from most to least favorite.

(I was going to do them all, including ones I never had, by saying something funny. But then I realized my funny things weren’t funny, so now I’m just doing ones I know.)

1. WordPress, best SM site by far. I love to blog, simple as that. Love to write stories and poems and also jabber on about whatever at any length. Love that it’s easy to delete stuff as well, find other bloggers, comment, block commenters, and have a way of tracking comments elsewhere. Love the supportive camaraderie here and the vast variety of interests. Love how easy it is to create a new blog and keep it private, as I did for NaNoWriMo.

2. Blogger. Welp, if I didn’t have WP, I’d use Blogger, as I used to, and it would be fine, though not as fabulous. I’d still get to blog though, which is the main thing. The nice thing about Blogger is it’s connected to my Gmail and other Google products. It never seemed as glitchy as WP, but to be fair, WP has more features.

3. Twitter. I like Twitter for the poets and the poetry prompts. I get inspired there at times to write different sorts of poems from here. I’ll read some news too, but I stay out of the flames. It’s all the same crap I’ve seen forever on the internets. 🔥

4. Yahoo. Talking about the “old” Yahoo now. I deleted my accounts, including my Flickr, after their massive hack. But I have fond memories of the old Yahoo, where you could find new people to chat with in their groups and on their Messenger service. It wasn’t all hookers and spam then. Please excuse the nostalgia moment.

5. YouTube. This is a good free service for music and music vids. I don’t use it to listen to hideously annoying speeches or self-help garbage promo or political ranting. Gahhh! But I use their app several times per week to link to vids for music prompts and such.

6. G+. RIP. It was a good idea that never took off. I tried to participate off and on, but peeps couldn’t tear themselves away from the FB monster. One feature I lurved there was their filtering ability ~ you could easily make some posts and photos private to family or certain friends without others knowing they were excluded. 😢

7. Messenger. More FB nonsense. I have to keep it in order to chat with certain people who don’t like texting. It annoys me hugely, but wheee see Paula compromise. At least it can stay hidden, unlike FB itself, where every time you comment to a friend, one of their idiot friends picks a fight with you. 😡

8. Instagram. For me, IG was a relatively harmless time-suck. I only posted photos of Gatsby, food, sunsets, etc. But it’s connected to FB (see below), and more importantly you’re contributing to the insane consumer body image culture just by being on there. I deleted it with FB in March of 2018.

9. SnapChat. When I was on, it was indeed snappy. Now, I guess it too has been hacked and people are saving photos they should not. But I didn’t send risqué photos; I was using it for fun, not for flirting. I found it stupid and pointless though and deleted it after a couple weeks. 💤

10. DropBox. I found this annoying. Maybe I wasn’t using it right, or maybe you have to pay to unlock the best features. But I didn’t see the point. I can use Google docs or just text/email stuff. Do people chat on here? Not sure why it’s in the “social” pile.

11. WhatsApp. Another FB product, one that allegedly doesn’t compromise your privacy. Lol! Hey, I have a bridge for sale, interested? I used this for a while, meh. It wasn’t as convenient as Messenger, and now I have negative feelings toward it cuz of this one dickhead I was on last with.

12. Facebook. Horrible place that sucks out your soul while stealing all your data. Then they apologize and do more of it. Again and again. So glad I’m out of there permanently. Yes, I miss the handful of nice people I used to interact with, but hello I am right here. They have my email and phone too. It’s their choice to become strangers to me. 😛

Backstory

Alt title: Why Use One Word When 700 Are Available?

I wrote a prose poem about “who I am” that was really “where I’m from” a long time ago for a prompt, though I’m not sure if we called them prompts then. It might have been on Usenet, which we used to deride as a sewer, before every other form of social media became awful too. (I still think blogs are the best of the bunch.) The poem was short and not that deep, but then I pulled it up again and fleshed it out for another venue.

I’ve been thinking about Rory’s question (“who are you really?”). It’s a pretty easy question for most people to answer superficially. We generally give answers about who we are in relationship to other people. I’m a mom. I’m a wife, or not. I’m a good friend of so & so, a loyal employee of XYZ Company, yada. We’re plotting our position on axes of family and work, then friendships, maybe next our relationship to interests. I’m a fan of such and such sports team, rah! Or I love to garden, knit, read, write, pull the tails off little blind mice. Whatever.

We tell the world who we are in this multi-dimensional GPS system. Locate me here, in this spot: mom, ex-wife, legal secretary, poet, cat lover, Game of Thrones fan. This is me, right here. What if there are other humans occupying that position? I might have to refine it further. But does this actually even answer the question? Does this explain who I am? Do you know me from these factoids? Could you tell someone about the essence of me from my GPS position?

The other week I was playing a board game with some good friends I’ve known for a long time. It was called ImaginiFF. A question came up: “ImaginiFF Paula were a movie. Which movie would she be?” There were 5 random movies and then Doctor Zhivago, which was obviously correct in my mind for a variety of reasons. Everyone chose it, and this surprised me. I wouldn’t have expected them to know. But they did. And this made me unreasonably happy because most of the time I think people don’t even understand me at all, not even people to whom I’m closest. But I don’t think you would get the correct movie from a bunch of disparate facts about me; you’d have to spend years orbiting my weirdness.

Anyway, here is my GPS poem about who I am via where I’m from. I take the long way around.

Backstory

I am from the Big Apple, take a bite, glitter lights, lemon ice, museums, zoos, art and news, Coney Island hot dogs, Jones Beach sandy sweets, sharp shells stab soft carpet feet.

I am from the place where you pull the blinds, someone’s looking, where you smell your neighbor’s curry cooking, he makes you sweet tea with cardamom, next day Jamaican barbecue mon, the Filipinos have one record, sugar sugar aw honey honey, your father brings home Saturday pastries from the German bakery, “schwartzwalder kirschetorte,” it sounds funny, say it again, and the Japanese girl doesn’t know your words but can show you how to fold paper squares into gentle birds.

I am from the thorny Jersey berry bushes, blackpurple bursts against tanned sunfingers, slipping stones in backyard creek, crick, algae slick, willow fronds sweep redwood table pirate ship, hopscotch sidewalks toss a chip, Sunday French toast sausage brunch, leaves turning orangecrunch, rubber masks hiding smiles fake, the quickmelt of perfect crystal snowflakes.

I am from big city and small town, remain unclaimed, cheer for no team, believe in no crown, blood flows only down, I look out to starless airless zerodark, time past seems tissue-thin, walk back in, an afternoon of bubble toys, uncaring joy, turquoise dresses rhinestone sunlight, just once, golden flash, one more pass, because I am from a yard of girls with summerdrip popsicles, before the apple, before the crash.

I am from disconnect and strife, feudglue of life, mashed crookedly together, a puzzle I failed to see until I broke apart, alone, jagged on my own, and now I know why people stay, bicker low and graceless, get physical redangry splashwine in faces, because they can’t bear the abyss, yes, I missed, I get it all now, too late.

~*~

Blogsturbation

It just occurred to me to follow myself. I’m sure that must be legal in California. And now look! 😀👀🎉 I have finally zoomed up to 800 WP followers, woohoo! I’m in the big leagues now, baby! Yeehaw!

Yeah, yeah. I know some of you have 1000, 2000, 8000, whatever. But plz remember that I stagnated here for a decade posting sad song lyrics and complaining about dating sites to around 12 people via email plus my Facebook friends. It’s only recently since I dumped FB that I began interacting with the WP writing community.

Love you all! ❤️

(Hope this is okay for the Weekly Smile.)

Dribble [SOCS]

Ribbons and flowers…

Cribbage in bowers…

Don’t try to make sense

Of my scribbling;

It’s 4:30AM.

I do have a list,

Transcribed on a Post-It,

Crushed on my pillow

Right next to my phone,

Which may be cheating,

To some.

The good-sleep hygienists

Would frown at my habits,

And prescribe dozing solo,

But you’d miss me,

I know.

Mmm middle…

I’m not keen on extremes. Seems lately, at least on the internet, most of what you read veers to the ideology of the far left or the far right. And people do love their labels. They’re not comfortable until they slap one on you and box you up. Everywhere you go, you’re bedeviled with folks yelling out “racist!” “socialist!” “traitor!” etc. at peeps.

I find it much more sensible to hover in the middle. That’s not to say I’m indecisive on issues of the day ~ I feel strongly about many topics. But much of the time I don’t agree with what’s being presented as either the “conservative” position or the “liberal” position. They both swing too wildly from anything that makes sense for our society, whether we’re talking about something like banning all guns or banning all abortions (and the birth control pill too!)… just pure insanity, imo.

This is why I call myself a moderate. And the more outrageous things I read from both sides only further convinces me that staying in the middle is a good place to be. Of course that also makes me a convenient target of wrath and derision from peeps at both ends, but eh whatever.

The middle is where it’s at, man.

(Sorry to get political, but this was on my mind today and I wasn’t feeling the creative vibe.)

Song Lyric Sunday: Three Minutes

Get your mind out of the gutter! I’m talking phone minutes. I picked minutes for Jim’s theme this week, and “Sylvia’s Mother” is a fun oldie that fell right into the category. It was written by Shel Silverstein for Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show and released on their album Dr. Hook in 1972. The song and the album were big hits. (The lyrics were supposedly autobiographical about a failed relationship.) Note that Shel was not in the band; he only wrote the song. He also wrote “Cover of the Rolling Stone” for them.

Now, we have no need for this song, since everyone has their own phone. We also have eliminated telephone operators. Plus, getting married and moving to Galveston wouldn’t stop a determined ex from continuing to stalk you on social media. But in 1972, and for quite a few years thereafter, folks related to these lyrics.

Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s busy, too busy to come to the phone”
Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s trying, to start a new life of her own”
Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s happy so why don’t you leave her alone?”
And the operator says
“Forty cents more, for the next three minutes”

Please Mrs. Avery, I’ve just got to talk to her
I’ll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, I just want to tell her
Goodbye

Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s packing, she’s gonna be leaving today”
Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s marrying, a fellow down Galveston-Way”
Sylvia’s mother says “Please don’t say nothing to make her start crying and stay”
And the operator says
“Forty cents more, for the next three minutes”

Please Mrs. Avery, I’ve just got to talk to her
I’ll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, I just want to tell her
Goodbye

Sylvia’s mother says “Sylvia’s hurrying she’s catching the nine o’clock train”
Sylvia’s mother says “Take your umbrella, ’cause Sylvia it’s starting to rain”
And Sylvia’s mother says “Thank you for calling and sir won’t you come back again”
And the operator says 
“Forty cents more for the next three minutes”

Please Mrs. Avery, I’ve just got to talk to her
I’ll only keep her a while
Please Mrs. Avery, I just want to tell her
Goodbye

Tell her goodbye
Please, tell her goodbye

The Glitches Go On…

I just got notified by email of a new follower (someone whom I thought was already following me), so I popped over to the app to check my list.

Things simply are not going well for me lately. 😢