Blogging Books

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Just bought me a bunch of blogging books to use for reference in my research paper on… guess what?

These seem to be the most highly recommended books on the topic. Have I missed anything, or have I just made any bad purchases?

Deserted Streets of Lexington Market

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Okay, I didn’t have hot chocolate. Instead I went right back to MICA at 7pm to have dinner with a friend. On the way, I had intended to pick up some food at Lexington Market, but it had already closed an hour earlier, so I had to get Kentucky Fried Chicken instead (Original Recipe with mean greens).

The Market area sure is a scary place to be after dark. The streets — even Howard Street, the main thoroughfare — were almost completely deserted, barely a soul to be seen beneath the amber streetlights; none save a few derelicts roaming the area, and the homeys hanging at the subway. Occasionally, a light crash would signal another store closing up, the metal gratings crashing to the pavement so that Asian storeowners could lock and secure the gates.

It was almost surreal, to be in that ghost town environment at just 7pm in the evening. The arrival of the light rail was a welcome escape.

Ah, Bawlmer.

Cold and Snow

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I used to think as a child that the moment the mercury dropped below 32°F, it would automatically start snowing. Imagine my disappointment when I found out that precipitation is not a direct function of temperature.

Anyway, after three days of lab work, I arrived home this afternoon to a 50°F room. Outside, it’s half that. Hot chocolate time.

The Universal Page

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Oh, you accursed Dadaists, with your anti-utopian visions! You led us on, you killed the dream. And only now do I understand: there is no algorithm. Oh, you accursed Dadaists.

(Note that the hubris of the Universal Page’s grandiose vision is deliberate satire, and that Randall Packer’s Eulogy to the Dream is part of the joke. The work is meant to poke fun at starry-eyed new media utopianists who believe that the internet — or any medium — could possibly bring about world peace and universal accord. The message: it just doesn’t happen. All you’ll get is gibberish.)

That’s a Huge Breast!

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It’s a few days late, but better late than never: things you can only say at Thanksgiving.

1. Talk about a huge breast!

2. Tying the legs together keeps the inside moist.

3. It’s Cool Whip time!

4. If I don’t undo my pants, I’ll burst!

5. Whew, that’s one terrific spread!

6. I’m in the mood for a little dark meat.

7. Are you ready for seconds yet?

8. It’s a little dry, do you still want to eat it?

9. Just wait your turn, you’ll get some!

10. Don’t play with your meat.

11. Just spread the legs open and stuff it in.

12. Do you think you’ll be able to handle all these people at once?

13. I didn’t expect everyone to come at once!

14. You still have a little bit on your chin.

15. How long will it take after you stick it in?

16. You’ll know it’s ready when it pops up.

17. Wow, I didn’t think I could handle all of that!

18. That’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen!

19. How long do I beat it before it’s ready?

20. I’ve never felt so stuffed!

Zzzz.

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I’m a very eloquent sleeptalker. My classmates say I even used my Sean Connery accent.

Deadpan Paeans

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Though I’m still up at 7am and still writing, the writing is turning out to be sort of fun. I really love being able to use phrases like “reinterpretation of meaning from subject through the use of an external intermediary” or “serious concepts of new media represented as deadpan paeans to a stereotypical utopianism” — and really mean it. Suddenly, 6-8 pages just feels like too little space. I might not even have to use 12.5pt double-spaced Courier New after all.