5 reasons why I blog

Kid Blogger! The kid has promise. 

I got tagged for the 5 Reasons Why I Blog meme by Jeremy Jacobs, and answering it will be my entry in the engtech Blog Contest #1.

Do you remember when you were in elementary school and in English class once a week they would write five topics on the board and you would have to pick one of the topics and write a story about it? (oh, and also how they would give you lists of all kinds of different words you were supposed to learn {although I always wondered and worried, secretly, that if they knew I already knew those words they would penalize me in some way, so I played dumb. I would rule in a concentration camp!} and then use in a sentence? Well being literalminded-like, I used to use them all in one gargantumungous sentence, the Sentence That Wouldn’t Die!, the Energizer Bunny of sentences, and that used to piss my teachers off no end but they never did tighten up the wording of the assignment, so what’s with that, eh? I ask you) But quite a lot of the time I wouldn’t like any of the story subjects listed and even might have had a story or two that I wanted to write anyway and thought, like any good, lazy person, why should I write two including one I don’t want when I can write one that I do want instead? Indeed.

So, inevitably after every writing-the-titles-on-the-blackboard moment, the teacher would sit at his desk and brace himself for my approach.

“Do you mind if…” I’d always start, and usually it would go smoothly from there.

“What would happen if I said no?” asked Mr. Lindsay once, in a sudden and inexplicable fit of empowerment.

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a field guide to fandom, Barbaro edition

horse avatar of Barbaro...I mean Vishnu! 

Ladies and gentlemen, we present to you this amazing Hinterland’s Who’s Who guide to Barbaro messageboard fans. It’s from the Philadelphia Weekly, who should immediately give D-Mac a raise, and gotten at via Bridlepath.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking: but raincoaster, I’m not a horsefan; but raincoaster, I don’t care about horse fans; I don’t want to learn about online animal adoration forums; I came here for beaver shots. But read on, O Skeptical Reader, read on!  Remember always that God makes us become what it is that we profess to despise, for lo, he is a twisty bastard, yeh.

As a taxonomy of fandom archetypes, this is near-perfect. Here we have all of the typical pathologies, their sordid lumps lurking barely disguised under the thin cover of a My Little Pony Barbaro Special Edition quilt. Oh, the clowns wear their happy and their sad faces with scarlet grins and glitter-drawn teardrops and many, many animated gifs, but still they hobble a well-beaten track and lunge in circles, spinning slowly in the soundless depths of cyberspace.

Behold fandom revealed.

Pray for us. Poor Tom’s a-cold!

Anthropomorphic Barbaroites: These posters believe in a Barbaro that can not only read letters on an Internet messageboard, but also that he can read them from beyond the grave. Also called Mr. Edsters, these posters usually write up extended letters addressed directly to Barbaro, thanking him for everything he taught them and telling him to stay strong.

Example:

Dear Barbaro:There are so many tears flowing today from all of your FOB’s. We have to remember that even though we are sad, you are free from pain, beautiful and perfect as you should be. There are no more casts, bandages, or special shoes. God and Dr R have finally healed you completely.

I watched the news conference about you today. Everyone (Mom, Dad and Dr R) were so sad when they talked about saying Good Bye to you today. We’re all so glad they had some time to say their special goodbyes. You know they love you very much.

Your FOB’s and BarbaroManiacs are also sad today. But, you taught us all how to live life to the fullest (enjoy treats and special friends) and face adversity head on. We won’t let you down. When we can pick ourselves up tomorrow or the next day, we will join together to further track safety and end horse slaughter in honor of your name and undying spirit.

People With The Last Name Barbaro: These people have the last name Barbaro. They may also fall into other categories.

Example (this person is also a Poet Laureate):

Do not stand at my grave and weep;I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.
I am BARBARO…
Be Free Brave Colt…Be Free…
Native American Prayer

Posted by: Laurie A. Barbaro at January 29, 2007 10:50 PM

Long Timers, First Timers: These are people who claim to have been visiting the Barbaro messageboard since he was injured in the Preakness in May, but are just posting now, after his death. They are pejoratively called Unbelievers by some, since they did not register their love of Barbaro on the site until after he was dead…

Blarbaro Blovers: These are black people that like Barbaro. (And here is the referent.)…

Children of Barbaro: These people believe Barbaro was put here on this earth “for a reason.” Some go even far enough to say he’s a prophet from Jesus himself, or he is a human being — or an “old soul” — reincarnated in a horse’s body. There has been little talk of Barbaro rising on the third day, but wait until tomorrow.

Example:

I do think that on some level Barbaro did know, in his animal way, what he was about. I think he is an old soul who came here for a reason to help other animals especially horses. He did his job and now he’s off to other matters. An evolved soul in a horse’s body. We responded to that, we “got” it, that this wasn’t just a horse. We joined him in his mission, now he’s gone and we can carry it through to finality.

Here is an excerpt of Fare Thee Well by Indigo Girls:
[Snip. You can thank me later. —ed.]

People Who Write Fan Fiction About Barbaro’s Death: There’s only one person in this group, but she deserves her own entry. Harriette Brillianthawk, from Lexington, wrote fan fiction about Barbaro’s death.

[ed. note: snipped to spare you. Seriously, you owe me]

Barbaro Himself: One person, Cheryl Jones, writes in the voice of Barbaro. Many posters are very happy with her writing as Barbaro. Jones assumes that although the horse has acquired a human brain and the ability to think and talk, his lack of opposable thumbs make it rather hard for him to type. He also doesn’t have spellcheck.

Example (this elicited several responses saying it made people cry):

hay its me im in hevvin now its beyoooooooooootiful i can seee yuo lissen for me ill see yuo agin love eech uthur be nise to eech uthur save horsssesss say prayers thankyew for lovin me so muchlove bArbaro

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tag cloud nine

raincoaster's tag cloud is so way taggier than yours, yo!So there it is: the raincoaster tag cloud, which idea I got from Seismic Twitch who got the Cthulhu chandelier from me so that is what you call fair trade. Thanks to WordPress.com and their security restrictions it’s not dynamic, but at least it does exist and feature Cthulhu rather prominently, even though it appears to imply that God hates Helen Mirren, which even if it were true I would have no way of knowing, so call off the lawyers and the priests already!

When you cast your bread upon the waters, it often returns to you in strange and unusual forms, even if an thousandfold. I mean, who needs that much bread pudding? But after casting nearly two thousand blog posts upon the blog pond, the internet gave a great heave and tossed the following back at me:

the raincoaster game!
Jessica Coen says so!

I have my own game! Mother would be so proud!

In moderately unrelated news, Google has recently re-jiggered their jigs and re-mastered their masters and greased up the series of tubes known as the internet and as a result my Page Rank, which had been a solid and more than respectobiggle 6 back in the day, but which had plummeted to a juicy 0 after the domain change, has clambered back up to a moderately impressive 5, although there is still lost ground to be regained. Operation Global Media Domination has suffered setbacks before, but it can no more be killed than it can be exorcise: like antimatter, OGMD is inherent in the very nature of the universe and should it be eliminated by some unthinkable and unspeakable metaphysical conflict, the existence of existence itself would cease to be, the snake would swallow its own tail, and the world as we know it would vanish in a puff of hyacinth-scented fairy dust.

And nobody wants that to happen, do they?

Got credited “submitted by” on BoingBoing for submitting Helm’s Deep in Candy, which they and TORn picked up: did fuckall for my hits, actually, and Technorati is still steadfastly refusing to see the damn link. They hate me. Mutual, babes, mutual. But I still get up to twenty hits a day from my comments on the Helm’s Deep post: very strange, but I’ll take ’em!

BTW, I outTechnorati BoingBoing on a search for Helm’s Deep in Candy. *thrilled*

Also, the Guardian picked up my Fart Tax story, which I got from the Guardian, and named it “Best of the web” but of course I didn’t get a screenshot. D’oh! Going on the resume anyway. It is a strange kind of incestuousness indeed that makes the participants BOTH look good, but god knows I’m not proud. Arrogant, yes: proud, no.

Rev it up, baby! 

In extremely-related news, I found this delightful little metric on Blogpond. How could raincoaster here resist something called EgoSurfing? I ax ya. My results, which vary between 10,000 and 12,000, give me a ranking of “Common” which is surely the first and last time someone will be able to get away with calling me that; you can insult me, but only if you manage also to give the impression that I am original in my sordid vileness: is that too much to ask?

Recently I was whining about the effect of blog quietude on hits and a friend of mine expressed complete bafflement at my interest in the subject; more than this, he managed to imply that working for fame was invalid, whereas working for money was right and good. More on this some other time, but being, as I knew he was, of a quantifiable turn of mind, I simply looked at him and quietly said “During the time I’ve been visiting you I’ve gone up seven thousand, five hundred places on Technorati.”

Where is your 2% annual raise now?

And finally tonight, also in OGMD news, we present some of the top searches that have led people to the ol’ raincoaster blog. Let us give thanks to Donnie Davies, may he rest in peace, Helen Mirren‘s tits, and the immortal triad of Beautiful Agony, Beaver Shots, and Blackzilla.

Strangely, nobody wants to look at Doug‘s beaver shots. They much prefer Lori’s. Maybe I should host a sort of photographic carnival of beaver shots, an internet-wide challenge for the best beaver shots out there. But that would artificially game the hits, and that would be so, so very far beneath me.

Wouldn’t it?

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six-word stories

Hemingway by StraterThere are an infinite to the power of ten number of games, tricks, memes, generators, and other gizmos to give writers the well-deserved smack on the bottom or the top that they need to be really creative, including Flash Fiction. One of the best Flash Fiction sites is David B. Dale‘s, and fortunately the standard there is high enough to give some feeble hope to us skeptics. Not enough, though, to override my belief that in very few cases do these artificially confining pretences lead to actually great writing. I can think of Ramsay Campbell‘s short story, “Heading Home,” which literally could not have been done in any art form other than writing. It is the least-filmable piece ever committed to mass market paperback. There is also the great Dorothy Parker‘s perfect poem “Two-Volume Novel,”

The sun’s gone dim, and
The moon’s turned black;
For I loved him, and
He didn’t love back.

But this, six-word flash fiction, and perhaps the most restrictive of those challenges, takes inspiration from this great work of Ernest Hemingway‘s

For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

How much daring must a human being have to go up against competition like this, or even to exist in the same sphere? Hemingway himself said it was his best work, and he was no slouch in the work or opinion departments, for all his boozing.

This is the roundup that Wired magazine collected from some of the top SciFi writers today(stolen from Wil Wheaton), and I must say that, however neat the idea, this is one sad sack of sentences. While some of them would make a good first line for a conventional novel

Kirby had never eaten toes before.
Kevin Smith

most of them are rather laurel-resty

Don’t marry her. Buy a house.
Stephen R. Donaldson

Hearteningly, a scant handful actually live up to the challenge and do justice to the reputations of the writers. It lights a fire in my soul and the souls of all good readers and writers when we see good or great writers writing this well:

It’s behind you! Hurry before it
Rockne S. O’Bannon

Longed for him. Got him. Shit.
Margaret Atwood

Machine. Unexpectedly, I’d invented a time
Alan Moore

And here, to leave you with our ambiguously depressing thought for the day, is Hemingway’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech, as read at the banquet by the American ambassador to Sweden. At two minutes and ten seconds, it is in its own right Flash Speechifying, but nonetheless eternal for that. If the player doesn’t work for you the text over the jump, and here is a Realplayer version of Hemingway himself reading it; if any of you can convert that horrific medium to an MP3 I would be much obliged.


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