Comma Sympathizer

I'm a movie nut. I love movies just like Dont loves her movies (nice site, btw... I'm glad to see you liked Gerry). Anyway, I have touched on the flick Shattered Glass once before near the very beginning of my blog's birth. Today [edit: today = last friday, see below for more info] I started thinking about it again for random reasons.

In the film, there is a scene that meanders away from the crux of the movie to have a dalliance in the (I suspect) factual idiosyncracies of journalistic routine, an aside only an editor could probably fully appreciate. I am reminded of a scene in which Hank Azaria's character (the voice of Moe and Apu from The Simpsons, incidentally) returns to the office to find the magazine's staff all being subjected to proofing articles in some form of geek punishment designed to make them better understand the scourge that is "comma abuse". The punishment in question involved them actually being made to read through finished pieces and highlight all the commas.

Apparently, this is a noteworthy epidemic in the journalistic community, or at least noteworthy enough to parody in the film. Don't get me wrong. The scene served its purpose as part of the forward momentum of the script; for that, I probably shouldn't have referred to it as a "dalliance". It was, afterall, a facilitator for a rift to arise between Azaria's character (the editor for the paper) and his boss. The fallout from which would ultimately wind up with Azaria being fired from his post and replaced with a less than unanimously loved staffer played by Peter Sarsgaard (good actor).

Even though I haven't seen the film in a probably five months, I return to the humor of that scene, subdued as it may have been, because if reminds me of the way that I write. I have always strived for a strong vocabulary and writing skills that are above reproach, and I am probably being self-conscious about this... Well, I'll just put it to you plainly: do, I, abuse, commas?

NOTE FROM THE EDITOR:
editor_maser: Looks good. Needs more commas though!! And what's with the date for your post? That was a week ago. It couldn't have taken you that long to write this post?! How much are we paying you?! Get your pinko comma-lovin' ass out of my office!!

Feel free to comment on my grammatical idiosyncracies. I'll go first: My sentences are longer than my... They're long. (hat-tip to Ocean's Eleven for that one) :p

ruby's price war & the narcissism of minor differences

This post is not affiliated in any way with Annex's "What's in a name?" post. It may even predate it since I write so slowly. However, the irony of how they coincide is not lost on me, especially since they both relate to personal identity.

Anyway, I was trolling around the BBC the other day, just window-shopping for anything that might be interesting to read. One good aspect of their website is that it not only focuses on the current events of the day, the staff there are constantly analyzing and going in depth and writing editorials that try to unlock and better understand the nature of systems, the state of the world, the heart of the issue, whatever. In other words, there is a long view to complement your daily dose of here today, gone tomorrow headlines.

So, I happened upon an article that was wading neck deep into the long-standing rift between the French and the British (or, in a larger sense, all things Anglo). It contained a reference to Freud and a theory that he espoused -- "the narcissism of minor differences".

Basically, the article was stating that the petty bickering of today can be attributed to an over-abundance of similitude between their peoples and a dearth of significant differences. When you consider their long and tumultuous past, nationalistic pride, geographic proximity, differing social models, and a seething underbelly of derision in the limp motions of politesse that characterize much of their political wrangling, is it any wonder that such a fine sibling rivalry exists?

Well, it got me thinking about my own "narcissism of minor differences". [ruby sits preening in front of the mirror] I have occassionally done a Google search to see if I rated highly enough to warrant a place at the table. Having done so, I can say that I am not the only rude logic in the world. There is another, an ominous presence buried deep in server banks of the world wide web. A glitch in the Matrix?

This rude logic isn't even built yet. It's just a splash screen propositioning wayward internet travelers like a streetcorner hustler with a penchant for pseudo-philosophical advertising slogans. It poses one of the most mysterious and cryptic questions of the ages, "What is rude logic?" ...It's me, asshole! There. I said it. I don't know anything ruder than calling another person (or dot com entity) an asshole. Under the circumstances, I think they deserve an apology, but here at rudelogic.blogspot.com, they ain't gonna get it!

If they are selling something a la the "dot com" in their name, shouldn't it be rude "product" and how would that work anyway? Customer service demands decorum, finesse, and a willingness to supplicate yourself at the feet of the almighty dollar. I mean, logically speaking, you are shamelessly trying to entice people to return and discover what the big secret is. As you butter up the public and they wait with baited breath to discover the secret, the glamorous hidden message is revealed: "'Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.' A crumby commercial!?" :p

You can't sell toilet seat covers with guerilla advertising like that -- it's not artistic! But, if not, what could it be? While "rude" really is programming jargon that could easily be the missing piece of the puzzle or another deadend, couldn't it also be a hint of a fantastic undiscovered sub-layer driving the mechanisms and inner workings of the whole system, a new calculator that insults you for not knowing the answers on your own, a tedious self-help book for novice and professional jerks alike, a new type of mace specifically designed to be an affordable first-strike weapon against pedantic know-it-alls and uncharismatic midgets?

For my part, I can see only one alternative to a lawsuit, only one option that insures the survival of my brand (I'm playing the role of the French here), and that option is PRICE WAR!!! So, guess what... I'm not selling it! I'm not even asking for charitable offerings or shipping and handling charges. I'm giving it away! That's right, folks. I'm giving rude logic away for absolutely nothing. You heard right. Free! Free! FREEEEEEE!!! Buy one rude logic at the regular price of free, get a second rude logic at half off the regular price of free! All while supplies last, of course ;)

I can only hope that they do not have lawyers on staff or, worse yet, French lawyers. [scared face] Is it too late to change my site name to rude "blog"ic? :D

Just a quicky...

I have followed Annex's lead and turned on word verification in the comments section. I love to thwart the spam bastards any way I can. Please forgive the inconvenience while I do so.

Another item, long overdue by the way, the Blog-Hoppers' Portal has been revamped. Some old links have been removed and some blogger babes have been added. It will continue to grow and expand in the near future.

Lastly, for anyone who might be just about ready to punch Rob Thomas square in the face for repeatedly belting out "Bright Lights" when you visit, you should know that I put him up to it. He'll be coming out very shortly, to be replaced by some other random bastard you'll be ready to smack before too long. :p

Adios for now.

hey pig piggy pig pig pig

Linked from blue's site with a little Nine Inch Nails thrown in for you, Annex. Here is my attempt to draw a pig while I'm pissing away spare time after work today.

I'll leave it for you to decide. He's either one cool pig or he's blind. Since I didn't draw him with a walker, I like to think he's the former of the two.

As backstory, he is currently en route to the slaughterhouse, but he does not know it. I'm not sure what his motivation is, but to explain the sunglasses, perhaps instead of blindness he suffers from blind optimism. He's a pig after my own heart. :p

As for me, the draw-a-swine test revealed me to be a realist who is active, innovative, forgetful of dates, not family-oriented, emotional, naive, care little for details, a risk-taker, secure, stubborn, stick to my ideals, passable listener with a medium quality sex-life.

I agree with some of what the pig said, and the other answers... well, they are the reason he is on his way to the slaughterhouse.

Take the test yourself, bacon-lovers. Hat-tip to blue1aqua1 for the link.

who the heck?

[shame-faced]

I feel in need of a spanking for what I've done, ladies. No, really, damnit! Give me a spanking! :p

I'm sorry to have gone on hiatus so abruptly without a word of warning, not so much as a sign of parting to mark the interim. I assure you that my momma didn't raise me that way. I couldn't go into a bar in Texas, tell this story, and leave with all my teeth. They ride people out of town on a rail for less provocation! A backwoods posse is after me as we speak! :p All right... enough with the hyperbolics.

And though it feels good to have returned to the roost, so to speak, seeing the amassed comments from you, my blogger ladies, notwithstanding a few soon-to-be-swatted spammer flies, rekindled in me the tender flame of propriety, of what is right. Like dead letters that the postal services could not deliver, they seemed so sad. How could I ignore that?

I mean, logically speaking, I am rude... but this is ridiculous! And now I stand before you, a wanderer harried for years... uh, weeks on end (hat-tip to the Coen Brothers), a searcher ever-seeking for that mythic connection to everything and everyone and yet inexplicably disconnecting for some six weeks hence. Go figure.

In answer to some of the speculation, yes, the job has been intensive. People who work sixty hours a week might be offended by that statement, but allow me to explain. I mean, I was on part time hours for a while before this job came along. This is more than a twofold increase in time logged breaking my ass for the man. (And not a twofold increase in pay, btw)

Nevertheless, the job did not win! I would be a dry well at a desert crossroads if I did not wake up to life beyond the distractions bound up it the bludgeoning realities of eeking out a living. That is what I'll take from it all and feel fortunate to have returned. That you are here also is simply the best part.

And yet it grows nigh unto the witching hour about now. I need to close out for the night with a solemn vow to actually come back tomorrow and repay your fidelity in kind with a long-overdue visit of my own to your domains and, maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky... a comment ;)

I kid. I'd be skinned for anything less and rightly so. Thanks for coaxing me back, blue and Annex. :) If Jen is out there among the English, I hope she is well in her travels, too.