Operation Global Media Domination: the mash note situation

To raincoaster love Julian

To raincoaster love Julian. Awww, isn’t that sweet?

NOTE TO NEW READERS: it’s not always this insidery. Just usually this insidery.

Well, I had been working on an epic Storify of the even-more-overcaffeinated-than-usual drama over Thursday and Friday, including multiple Ron sightings (hi Ron!) and relentless attempts to get my Twitter, Tumblr, WordPress, Facebook, and LinkedIn accounts suspended (all unsuccessful), but Storify’s Twitter search succumbed to the heated atmosphere and fainted, rendering me unable to do more than say “and then he said this, and I was all like bitch please and then … ” etc, etc, etc although it must be said that Storify themselves were very nice about it, particularly as I’ve bitched at them before for offering a WordPress.com embed code that does not embed anything readable in your WordPress.com blog; still, they mean well and if they can get that Twitter search to stop collapsing and asking me to sign in with Twitter instead of my Storify account, it’ll all be hunky-dory.

And yes, I believe that was all one sentence, why do you ask?

Still, drama has its uses. Always good for the Follower count if you have the right enemies, as I seem to. Here’s a tiny slice of just one of the four dramas that went on over that period.

Apparently if you tweet to his family and ask the entirely logical question “WTF?” he stops. Useful.

So both the computer and the iPhone have started overheating, to the point where it hurts to handle them. Gonzo gave me a great suggestion: A Belkin laptop desk/fan/thingy which costs about $20, which is easily ordered from Amazon possibly even using my own affiliate ID. Beats balancing it on a block of frozen soup stock as I am doing now.

The iPhone is a trickier brick altogether; it’s no longer emitting or detecting sounds on its own. With the headphones plugged in, I can listen to things. When I plug it in to charge I cannot have it connected to the cord first, prior to plugging the plug into the wall, or it will not charge. If I plug the plug into the wall and then connect the iPhone, it will charge.

Wouldn’t it be lovely to have something which simply worked? I wonder what that’s like. Wait. No. I take that back. My notebook works just fine, it’s just a bitch to upload is all. You have to spindle the pages really teeny.

But as you can see, Julian is keeping his spirits up and maybe someday he’ll be in a nice enough mood to just mail me one of those compromised phones or laptops he’s forced to discard (do you need the PO Box? Lemme know).

UPDATE:

OH, so much drama that I forgot to add my ACTUAL celeb encounter; Tommy James, yes THE Tommy James of “and the Shondells” Favorited a tweet of mine when I complained the cats were not sophisticated enough to enjoy Crimson and Clover. As indeed they are not, being both well below teenage.

And Ruth Buzzi Followed me.

And no, Julian Assange did not really write me that postcard. But I’m quite pleased so many people think he did. Going to go around with a swelled head all day.

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DramaSec: unintended side-effects

The fearsome Goofy Elk

The fearsome Goofy Elk

One of the unintended side-effects of staring too long at a DramaSec op (previously known as Dramz, Flamewars, or Fucking Pointless Internet Drama Put Your Big Girl Panties On And Cut It Out FFS) is the contagion of the Derp Factor.

You have been warned.

GPOY: getting run out of town edition

Me being run out of town

Me being run out of town

Had my going away party the other night, and if you missed it, you missed epicness. Epicnosity. Whatever.

One of the things I most enjoy about the Downtown Eastside is showing off how inexpensive things that are fun can be, and when the bills came around at Pat’s Pub in the glamorous Patricia Hotel on East Hastings, there arose a chorus of “SO CHEAP!” I think I’ve made some converts.

It was amusing when an older fellow mistook the Anon mask for some pantomime thing. The mask was a present from Jay, and very handy it came in at picture time, for lo, I never did get downtown to get my makeup done that day. From Pat’s the die-hards went to the Heather, so I’m glad I got to say good-bye to it properly. Smart money says I’ll be back eventually. After seventeen years of going there, it’s hard to break the habit.

What with my newly glittery appearance and glamorous clubbing lifestyle, SOME people are jealous, it seems.

 

DramaSec, weekend edition

Ever tried to do a simple tarot reading and keep having it come out weird? Yeah, so like that.

ninja raincoaster card

ninja raincoaster card

ron ninja card

But not to be mistaken for news that Ron IS a ninja

Ron is not a Ninja. Ron is, apparently, Asher Wolf. You may wish to get a piece of paper and pen to diagram out this particular post. As always, it gets confusing when the Lamo card is played.

ninja lamo card

lamo may or may not be a ninja, but he is clearly a Discordian

Sorry, Asher, you haven’t got a Ninja Trading Card yet like Ron and Lamo and Me.

First on Friday our old pal Ron goes apeshit on me, gloating about getting my articles edited after the fact (I have to find this out from Ron boasting on Twitter about getting the Daily Dot to eat crow? Imagine my joy). Then on Saturday, internet privacy activist and Cryptoparty founder Asher Wolf decides that doxing Barrett Brown‘s ex-girlfriend is a moral imperative. Why? Because, since Asher can’t find any record of her online prior to 2011, she must be a Fed plant.

Let’s review that: because someone leaves no tracks online, a leading internet privacy activist decides she is ipso facto an FBI plant.

As part of the pointless #DramaSec (my coinage, thank you, and you may Paypal me five bucks every time you use it if you wish. And why not? Times are tough chez raincoaster lately), Asher publicized a Pastebin someone had made of a Facebook thread in which BB’s ex and her friends, including me, basically went “what the actual fuck, Asher?” It’s not rocket science; nor is it spywork. It is ludicrous, my friends.

This of course inspired my own Facebook thread, which is reproduced here for fans of pointless, internecine internet drama. Once again, I find myself saying:

Eyes on the prize, people. Is this making the world a better place?

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