Just Buy an Umbrella Already

I owe all of you an apology. This review was technically "due" last week, on December 23rd. But, and here's where I proffer up excuses when as far as I can tell you really don't give a flying rat's ass, last Thursday was my last day at work before a year-end, sanity-restoring, very much needed break. And although I was able to compile my notes together for this review, I was simply unable to write a single word. My writer bone was simply snapped in two. So for a few days, I let it be. I went where I wanted to go. Did what I wanted to do.

And as of this morning, I feel oddly healed. Partially.

So, Vishwa, are you ready for me?

Back in the months I spent in the monastery in the Alps, there was an unusual fellow from Colombia who had the chamber adjacent to mine. When it would rain, he would wander outside and just wallow in self-pity and self-loathing. He was otherwise such a nice person, but this behavior indicated so clearly his underlying demons, it was of no great surprise to anyone when he was hospitalized for a series of mental and emotional breakdowns. As I understand it now, he is stable and runs a chain of Tae Kwon Do dojos, so perhaps the breakdown was necessary.

I mention this only because Vishwa's blog -- A Walk in the Drizzle -- seems to indicate early on a similar sort of potential downward spiral. For those of you sick fucks who think it might be fun to see someone spiral into the pits of despair, I suggest only that you will be disappointed, because that actually never seems to happen. That said, he expresses such a joy at the misery of walking in the rain, at the self flagellation thereof, that I was in the early years a bit worried about the guy.

Instead, though, we get a person who is contemplative and spiritual, and yet possessed of a pragmatic core. He spends time with a spiritual leader and yet works in IT. This sets up a conflict inside of him. The spiritual and contemplative side bemoans the fact that working in IT doesn't feed the spiritual, and yet the pragmatic side rules the roost. It's fine to want to be a philosopher and what not, but you don't get dental with that, and the part of him that likes to eat and live with a roof over his head wins.

Vishwa writes well enough. I wasn't constantly wanting to bash him over the head with a Strunk & White or anything, but his boring choice of templates is a bit of a canary in the coalmine for what's to come. His writing is a bit self interested for my liking. He splashes a bit of humor and humanity here and then, and rewards the patient reader with a nugget of truth about who he is rather than what he's thinking about, but it doesn't come often enough. He comes across as a navel gazer who only occasionally looks up to interact with anyone who might be in front of him.

To complicate matters, his last post was three months ago. And I really hate reviewing abandoned or retired blogs. On the one hand, like studying Latin is nice because it's a closed system that never needs updating, a dead blog is easier to review because you never have to worry about a recent post completely changing your whole perspective, but on the other hand it seems a bit pointless. If you are done, you obviously don't need tips on how to improve.

In the end, I have to conclude that Vishwa is not living up to his demonstrated potential. But he isn't totally abysmal. So, for him, I proffer a single star.



Consider it a belated Christmas gift.

One Lump or Two?

Time and time again, I am presented with a fresh victim. And rather than relish the delightful treat I am about to excoriate, I ask myself “Why would this seemingly normal human being request a review from us?”

"For validation," seems to be a frequent response, and all I can do is wonder whether these poor creatures know how to read. Or if they have an inkling what “I Will Fucking Tear You Apart” means. They clearly have picked the wrong review site. They certainly have happened upon the wrong reviewer. Unlike some reviewers here who can be seduced by a certain quaint charm, I cannot. If you wish to curry my favor, it comes down to a simple rubric. Do you expand my mind? Do I find myself longing to read just one more post? Do you turn a phrase in a new and fresh way that causes me to look anew upon the mundane and everyday? Or are you trite? Do you overwhelm with clichés and small-talk?

I hate trite, clichés and small-talk. Okay, hate’s an awfully strong word. I understand these things have their place, but I would probably rather remove my own spleen with a rusty fishhook than sit through too much small-talk. I bet that sounds like I’m using hyperbole to make a point, but to tell the truth, the fact that I would get such an amazing story out of removing my own spleen with a rusty fishhook has me contemplating just how many hours of small-talk would push me to that extreme. And it is not as high a number as you might think.

People frequently write for very different reasons than they have for reading, and often what makes for a compelling story that you want to share makes for a chore for a thinking human to read. Especially when the presumed purpose of your writing is merely to make social connections. To share awards. To spread memes. This sort of writing is the literary equivalent of a coffee-clatch, a place where weary mothers can get together to chit-chat about their days, their children or grandkids, and, I dunno, scrapbook or something. And I bet that there are a lot of people who get something out of this. There are likely hundreds of thousands of people (maybe even more) for whom this sort of interaction, whether in person or in the virtual world of Blogger or Wordpress, fills some urgent inner need.

But this is a need I do not have. And so, I cannot relate. I must come to you today to report that Nancy, a mid-thirties mother of two, originally from India, but now living in Dubai, UAE with her husband of 11 years, spends way too much time with online chit-chat for my liking.

I am not completely heartless. Nancy does get a lot of feedback via this chit-chat that really feeds her in ways that she needs, so I would never for the life of me tell her to stop what she’s doing. But I might ask in an extremely pointed manner what in the name of all that is sacred to her was she expecting from a review here? I gather that she is a fairly conservative person, in terms of subject matter that she feels is appropriate. I could be wrong. Still, I was getting the distinct impression that the concept of being FUCKING torn apart would be reprehensible to her. So, again, why? Why here?

As luck would have it, we actually have another quitter on our hands. By my calculations, about a month before requesting a review, Nancy declared that she was going on hiatus for an indeterminate period of time, only breaking away from her self-imposed moratorium to post one more meme. All I can imagine is that she was hoping that she would get some sort of spark from me telling her that, Gosh Awmighty, if she didn’t immediately start writing again, I was going to kill myself. But in fairness to you, to me, and truthfully to her as well, I can’t provide her with that spark.

Because if that spark comes from outside of you, it does not belong to you at all.

All that aside, I do want to say that I learned some very interesting things from Nancy. About life in the United Arab Emirates, and about what it is like to have an arranged marriage. And for that, I am genuinely grateful that I read the last year’s worth of posts.

I always like to leave my victims with some pointers on how to improve, and Nancy is no exception. I have several ideas. She may not be interested in any of them, and she is certainly free to ignore everything about this review.

• Please stop spelling in shorthand. It hurts my cerebral cortex. “Coz” is wrong. It is spelled “because,” or “’cause” if pressed for time. And “of course” is two words, not one.
• Edit. A lot. Get to the point quicker. Brevity is a virtue. Even your better posts were a chore to read simply owing to unnecessary length and meandering off the point.
• Stop blogging about blogging about blogging. Or blog buddies. Or blog awards. Or memes (or as you call them “tags”).
• The kinds of things that we, the people who don’t know you but who might happen upon your blog, want to know are buried deep. Who you are. Why you blog. What you’re all about. And even then, out of a year’s worth of posts, maybe three were really personal, what’s-Nancy-really-like stuff. The rest were trivia. Trivia is okay, but not very substantial. Bring that stuff out more. Push it to the front on an About Me page. Or give up on people like me.

Princess Di You Are Not

There are websites I don't fancy but regard with a degree of politesse because while they fail to be my cup of Earl Grey, may be someone else's Red Zinger or Constant Comfort. Then there are blogs so heinous, so woefully lacking in even the smallest shred of redemption that I cannot refrain from peeling off the well worn suckling pigskin gloves and sharpening my fingernails for a soul satisfying pick through their viscera. If The Power of Only One is a fenestella into the soul of Lisa(who by the way is one of two followers of her own blog), then all I can see is piled high plates of moral superiority, a pretentious lack of awareness and false academic snobitude, all worthy of little more than steaming handfuls of schadenfreude.

I'm going to get right to the point here and skip any red herrings or needless hand wringing, Lisa is going to get a few Flaming Fingers on this one. I will, however, do her a solid and not review her other blog in tandem. Lucky girl you are Lisa, because I don't think you have room for all the fingers I'd be offering.

In the Power of Only One, Lisa sets out to "empower" readers with the "knowledge" and "means" to change "key global issues." I couldn't find any credentials or experience that make Lisa just the person to help us understand the problems of our larger world but hey, everyone can aspire to Angelina Jolie no? Lisa's profile on the reviewed website offers little more then platitudes but one can glean a bit of info off the profile of her personal blog. The Power of Only One itself is a mess with a header stuffed full of tiny, empty words, a dull layout and messy, overcrowded sidebar. Lisa posts beginning January 1 and manages until April. So it would seem this blog was an ill-conceived New Year's Resolution that got boring just about the time Lisa got herself a boyfriend perhaps. Looks like Lisa's commitment to the global community lasted a bit longer than one of Miss Missives overpriced whipping sessions. Professionally pinked-cheeks don't come cheap these days, thanks be to Jezebel that some thing are just recession proof.

This is what it was like reading The Power of Only One:

Now sit down y'all readers of the internet, nope don't put your dirty feet on my purty carpet just listen while I elucidate you on the state of the glo-bal community. Can y'all say trafficking, yes that's it, tra-fick-ing, good, good. Now I am going to define for you prejudice. Look I am linking to a definition of prejudice. I hope you understand now. Look at the sad little pictures of African children. See I am doing my part to be a good citizen of the world by showing you what clearly you must not know since you are totally unawares of things like Da'fur and the Sedan, well and even the search capabilities of the internet for that matter.

Okay, that is not a direct quote from Lisa and yes, I will cop to it's mocking tone but this is what it felt like to read her words.

Here are a few of Lisa's actual words(not my poor, animosity-laced, ambiguously-accented renderings) just so you can really soak it in:

dedicated to helping the ordinary one person become an extraordinary impetus of change. This site will address key global issues such as poverty, hunger, AIDS, human trafficking, and domestic violence. The main goal is to empower individuals with the knowledge of the issues & the means to make change--one person, one step at a time. The united efforts of the many “ones” will create a mighty change. "A waterfall starts but with one drop, and look what becomes of that". (somehow Lisa got confused and thinks it's her job to give us knowledge, which of course, in Lisa's mind means linking to real repositories of knowledge)

I am not a company or a non-profit organization. I am just one. One person. One mom. One teacher. One American. One Texan. One daughter. One sister. One friend. One member of the human race who has challenged herself to save the one...one day, one word, one post at at time with the POWER OF ONLY ONE. (Uh, until April that is)

I would wager that most among you are pondering why I would even link the two together, Kipling and racism. Perhaps you did not know that Kipling penned the White Man's Burden, a poem that extolled the racial superiority of the "White Man(this is what happens when someone audits one literary criticism class and then fancies themself an expert)

I have spent all day trying to come up with a new global issue to address here. (Really. All day huh?)Several different ideas came to mind, but none of them "got the blogging juices going." (Nothing like human despair to get the ole juices flowing.) So I did what I always do. I "googled". Googling Top Ten Global Issues solved the dilemma. There in the search results, I found the answer. Racism. Instantly, I knew which direction to go.(I bet that's exactly how the Dalai Lama comes up with ideas too, lord knows he twitters.

I will spend the next month delving into and exploring the issues of race and racism. We will discover the many ways racism rears its ugly head in cultures across the globe, as well analyzing as the legacy of racism in these various cultures.

To start this journey, I would like share a video produced by The American Anthropological Association (AAA). Use the this video to start thinking about race and racism. (Ok, now Miss is starting to feel like a six year old sitting on the "reading carpet" at the back of this bitches class, does she really address adults this way? )

One of the things I found most distasteful about The Power of Only One, was this undercurrent of unacknowledged white privilege and colonial view of social problems. Lisa also reposts some Langston Hughes poems, oblivious to the irony. Every time I read her I just kept seeing this well-meaning perhaps but completely unaware Scarletty O'hare type, uppity school marm, and Miss Missives knows uppity. I am not saying or even intimating that Lisa is a racist, I don't think she is. I do, however, think that she likes to bath in the juices of her own superiority and is lacking in some badly needed perspective. Let's just recall for a moment that she undertook a do-gooderish blog that lasted about as long as a Britney Spears marriage, and then minutes into it, submitted it to Ask for some kind of hearty back slap or humanitarian award.

This blog feels false, like all the unseemly greening of consumerism that has become so rampant. Companies implore us to save the planet by buying something and Lisa aims to save the world by uninterestingly compiling some random words of others together in an effort to display her vast knowledge of global issues via her rare direct access to Google. The writing is wrought with one part emotional hand wringing and seven parts look at me doing something important and worldly. Never mind Lisa does little more than link to other, more credible sources of global enlightenment. The space is little more than links to sites with original content, some reposted videos and lifted quotes on prejudice, lots of liberal unattributed quote lifting--they say teachers don't cheat. The only thing that could have been more cliche was the Indigo girls set to auto play.

And now for the good news because you know Miss Missives likes to hand out a little candy with her spankings. The good news is, just four months in, Lisa threw up her hands and said to the disenfranchised of the world, this is just too hard.

There are some people who empower others and then there's Lisa.

To A Blogger Quitting Young

Someone once wrote "Blogging is mostly like pissin' off the back porch. Unless you're a 'celebrity blogger' of some species or another the enthralled blog-o-masses generally speakin' haint much gonna be interested in watchin' you piss off your back porch." Despite the poor vernacular and grammar, there’s a lot to the general concept there. Blogging has become the embodiment of that age-old philosophical question about an infinite number of monkeys, an infinite number of typewriters, and an infinite amount of time. Click that Next Blog button in Blogger and 99 out of 100 times, you will be presented with a steaming pile of feces. Or a warm bowl of piss.

That probably sounds cynical, but then again, there’s a metric assload of dreck populating Wordpress and Blogger, interrupted only very occasionally by a small niblet of something that is not shit.  Sometimes you find that nugget of goodness because everyone and their brother has a link to it from their blogs (which happen to consist of no original content at all, by the way) or you just get lucky and find the rare undiscovered gem.

It must be like how it felt to be a gold miner and find a new untapped vein.

Why have I waxed rhapsodic about blogging like this? I hope the answer is somewhat obvious, but I think I may have discovered a rare untapped vein of a gold-like substance in the proverbial pile of shit-encrusted hay. It isn’t pure gold, but there is enough golden goodness in it to keep a jaded old pisspot like me entertained for a few hours.

Dana is a young woman from America who has chucked her conventional life in favor of backpacking around Australia for six months. And at first, I was prepared to beat her to death with the nearest blunt object I could find, as I was met immediately by advertisements, no "Who I Am", no overt "What is this blog about", not even a link to a Blogger profile. Just a dull been-used-a-thousand-times-already template and an archive. I decided to tackle Dana completely chronologically and was immediately put to sleep with the tedium of reading about trip packing and preparations, or the lack thereof.

I almost quit there, sure I was in for a bout of tedium tremens. If this was going to be a blog consisting of lists, I wasn’t going to make it. I don’t care how many snarky comments are made after each packed item, this was not writing. But I take my charge here seriously, so I persevered.

And I am sort of glad I did. Once Dana reached Australia and ultimately left the city of Sydney, something shifted in her tone. Suddenly I was a participant on this trip. I was in the small towns and backwaters with her, living in hostels, couchsurfing, working odd jobs for food money, scratching alien insect bites, worrying about creepy old men (an odd sensation that, since, by troth, I am a creepy old man myself).

In all fairness, she did not make me want to leave the comforts of my lovely witness-protection-program home in the suburbs and run off to Oz and live the life of the bohemian, and there were enough instances of trivialities that mattered not to me or most others that Mark Twain and Bill Bryson need not fear losing their dominance of the travel writing genre to her.

But in the pile of shit that is the blogosphere, she was a breath of not-smelling-like-shit air. She was funny and appropriately self-deprecating. Yet she used enough description and background info that I never felt lost or confused. She wasn’t the world’s greatest writer, but she was a hell of a lot better than most bloggerers I have read.

...

Did you see what I just did there? I used the past tense, and not the present tense. She WAS funny, not She IS funny. Although Dana’s trip was meant to last till right about now (mid-summer 2010), her last posting was in March. A bit of a cliffhanger too, as she was just relating how she took a job in a town that was cut off from everywhere else by a bunch of floods. Which has me wondering what happened? What happened next? Why did she abruptly stop writing about it? Did something happen to her? Or did she just get tired of pissing off her back porch without anyone watchin’?

No one commented on any of her posts, except for herself. One gets the impression that her only reader was her mother, as she kept apologizing to her mother about her foul language.

So, I am reviewing a dead blog, but a blog that once showed great promise. And I don’t know where that leaves me. Smart lass, to slip betimes away from fields where glory does not stay...

Two stars. Minus one for being a quitter.



Note: This review was not due till tomorrow, but I needed to get it off my plate. So you get it a day early. All complaints can be written on a piece of jagged glass and rammed up your ass.