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| Wednesday, August 1, 2001 |
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Never, No, No, No, Only if it involves porn or family members, and Who cares 
| | Those are my knee-jerk answers to the six questions here. |
Watch more, know less
| | 63 percent of current PVR owners are watching more television than they did before owning the device, but that about 1 in 8 (12 percent) have "no idea" of which channels the shows being watched were originally on. |
| | PVRs are personal video recorders. Like (the Linux-platformed) TiVo. |
| | By the way, one thing that makes the Lemur especially useful is the useless or absent search facilities at sites like Electronic Media's. Somehow he still finds this stuff. |
Call me Hyperdoc
| | Usually people tell me they appreciate the linky way I write, but yesterday I heard a different view: that I put too many links in my text. It all gets too distracting, too complicated (like I'm Mr. Simple, right?). Anyway, just wondering what ya'll think. |
| | The tally so far: 3 for more linky, 0 for less. |
[Insert song title here]
| | I almost always have a soundtrack running in my head. If I pause to wonder what I'm really thinking about, all I need to do is look at the lyrics to whatever song involuntarily accompanies the moment. I remember once when I was losing a game of ping-pong with a business associate, that the tune in my head was Brook Benton singing "It's just a matter of time." At first I thought the lyric was a metaphor for the game itself, since it would just be a matter of time before I lost. But then I realized that the lyrics of the song spoke of a need to be appreciated in a relationship. I winced at the truth about the neediness I felt at the time. I also snapped out of it. Being needy was truly pathetic. Losing the game was truly unimportant. Perspective restored, I was ready to have fun and move on. And I'm sure that, as usual, beers followed. |
| | Anyway, the song in my head a few minutes ago was "Do you know what I mean?" — a catchy 1971 Top 40 hit performed by Lee Michaels in a big-voiced swoon over percussive organ chords. Her and Bobby was steppin' out. Her and Bobby didn't know I found out. Do you know what I mean? Awful song. I loved it. |
| | So, what was that about? I wondered? I figured it had something to do with the hard time I've been having trying to figure out — and then express — the meaning of what went down at last week's conferences in San Diego. While pondering that, I opened another round of email, at the top of which was something from my e-friend Cliff Havener (an e-friend is one you know only through email, having never met in physical space), author of Meaning, the Secret of Being Alive. Cliff and I got to know each other a couple years ago after I described my high school as "a Lutheran academic correctional institution." It sounded familiar to him, he wrote, and we discovered that, indeed, we had both been students at the same school. |
| | Cliff is a deep dude, and even older than I am (I don't feel that old, but clearly I was in the most elderly 1% at both conferences I attended last week — and I barely recognize the guy in the mirror who looks more and more like my father). He was writing to share his latest writing on the Web, which I'll pass along to ya'll. |
| | It's always tough to take on religion but Cliff does that here, and does it well. Related sites and writing are here, here and here as well. |
Sitting corrected
| | While I'm highly flattered that Mike @ BlackHoleBrain is impressed by my live "coverage" of the Mundie vs. Tiemann "smackdown" last week (and he wasn't alone — I've had lots of compliments), I have to agree with Craig that I missed way more than I heard. "Dropping packets" doesn't cover it. I've spent much of the last couple days going over tapes of the debate and the panel that followed, and I'm amazed at what went down there, at many levels. So amazed, in fact, that I've had a hard time writing about it. |
| | Meanwhile, what perists is some of the worst writing I've ever done. Also some of the most distracting. I was covering the event for Linux Journal, which I still owe a piece (or more) I haven't finished. |
| | But what the heck. It was useful experiment. If I do anything like it again, I won't attempt transcription, but rather something that taxes neither my typing nor my short-term memory. Something more like regular old journalism. |
| | By the way, though we aren't speaking directly about of gonzo journalism (which I unintentionally practiced here), there is fun to be had with the Gonzo Journalism Generator. |
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