All articles, tagged with “my adjunct brain”

im in ur homepage, terrorizin ur eyez

Some days, I get the best email. All names redacted to protect the slightly guilty and thoroughly confused:

From: (redacted)
To: (me)
Subject: leave me alone!

I don’t know how you got on my start up page. Get off it. Cops can find you if you ever break these laws again.

As I said, get off my computer& do not come back. Terrorist!

That’s final. No more yakitiyak.

Done.

Well, he certainly told me! Wait, what? I’m on his start up page? How very odd. Normally I’d just roundfile something like this, or respond with a hearty ‘fuck off’, but my curiosity is piqued:
From: (me)
To: (redacted)
Subject: Re: leave me alone!

Either you are very confused, or someone is sending out very strange spam with your return address on it. Good luck in either case.

…a little time passes:
From: (redacted)
To: (me)
Subject: Re: …

What I’m getting are tiny red words that, when enlarged, is your page. I am using a blank firefox page for my starting page when I get online. Is there something else I can do or not do so we don’t bump into each other?

Thanks for being far more polite than I was.
He set his starting page to… oh god. Oh lordy. This is almost as good as the time the New Orleans Catholic Dioceses started sending half of their email to “blank@blank.org”, including the passionate secret love letters.
From: (me)
To: (redacted)
Subject: Re: …

Hi (redacted), I have a theory as to what’s going on here:

My personal web page is, in fact, ‘www.blank.org‘. I suspect that you’ve set firefox’s homepage to just ‘blank’, and as a result either firefox or your ISP are “helpfully” taking you to the first google result for ‘blank’, which is in fact my homepage, as you can see here:

http://www.google.com/search?q=blank

What you should try doing is setting your homepage to firefox’s built-in empty page, which is somewhat confusingly named. Under “Preferences -> Main -> Homepage”, fill in:

about:blank

…and then restart firefox and see if you don’t get a proper blank page instead of my web server. :)

Best of luck,

(me)
…a few days pass:
From: (redacted)
To: (me)
Subject: Re: …

hahaha! I am one step ahead of you. that’s just what I did& all is fine.
Best to you& yours.

Victory: terrorism, I guess.

Ab hoc vinere domum tuum.

 

I'm ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille!

Smile for the camera!


That would be my apartment. Specifically, my bedroom window. For which I am about to go buy substantially thicker drapes. You can probably find yours too if you live in a major metropolitan area. (Hint: the compass points are clickable and will cycle through differently angled exposures.)

Remember please: this is publicly available, civilian-cleared imagery.

Once upon a time, paranoiacs used to wear tinfoil hats to keep the satellite from reading their minds. Now suddenly I’m thinking of erecting a tinfoil awning over my entire BLOCK.

you can pick your friends and your nose, but not….

 
One way to brighten up an otherwise bleak and annoying day: open up one of your favorite blogs and find a long and excellent interview with your uncle.

(Well, “uncle” — Andrew isn’t related by blood, but he’s been Family since I was 12.)

I am Vengeance…

 
…and I am here for your cake.

everything old is new again. again. again. again.

 
For the last few days, I’ve been getting rather a lot of pump-and-dump stock spam in my inbox. Now, to put it mildly, this is not in and of itself an unusual event. Heck, it’s more of a “water still wet, earth still round” kind of event. But what makes it amusing for me, and for, I suspect, a very small subset of my readers here, is the name of the company being hyped: American Resource Management, Inc.

Well, okay, actually the name itself is boring. But! Like any company with publically tradeable stock, American Resource Management, Inc., has a four-letter stock ticker symbol. And that symbol is: ARMM. And they mention it, prominently, in the subject line of the spams.

Which means that when I open up my inbox, I see, staring right at me:

ARMM
ARMM
ARMM
ARMM

And I have to ask myself: where is Richard DePew, anyway?

(For the three people who are reading this and either laughing or shuddering: You’re welcome. For the rest of you, I say: ARMM! ARMM! ARMM! ARMM!)

(p.s. Why yes, I am alive and ticking. I have a new job. It’s keeping me busy. Details when I unbusy a bit.)

Going once, going twice…

Okay, the first step is admitting you have a problem, right?

So after 2 years, it’s time to admit to myself that a briefly-almost-funny IRC gag is not actually worth paying the domain registrations on three domains in perpetuity. So, if anyone reading this wants to take over the care and feeding of:

crackninja.com
crackninja.org
crackninja.net
…you have 4 days in which to ask me to re-assign the domain to you, which I will do happily. If not, they go to the great domain name reclaimer in the sky.

Doing something funny or worthwhile with them is encouraged, but not required.

this stuff just finds me

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, five megabytes of pure sonic brilliance, a one-track justification for the existence of digital audio editing software, and quite possibly the best thing ever… ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States has an important message for you all:



If you’re at work, you should probably listen on headphones — there’s a bit of naughty language.

(Mirrored here in case the original site dies, but abuse their bandwidth before mine please.)

Well, that was easy.

For the last few months, I’ve been mulling over a longish article cum rant, about weblogging, livejournal, usenet, spam, distributed interface design, the tragedy of the commons and infinite return. But with one thing being another, I never quite got the round-tuits to actually put it all down on “paper” at once.

So of course, someone else came along and did it. Well, not quite — there were some larger points about semi-closed communities and the repetition of horrible interface decisions that I wanted to make — but the gist of it is there, and he hits pretty much every “so that’s it then, we’re all going to die” bullet point I had in mind, and with a lot fewer extraneous adjectives than I’d use.

Go read it now.

a heartbreaking tale of staggering missing the goddamn point already

 

onion


Dear Idiots at The Onion®,

1. Forgotten which medium made you bigtime, have we? Let me gently remind you: those offices in Manhattan? Those retirement funds? Those adoring write-ups in Newsweek? They didn’t happen because samizdat copies of your rinky-dink college weekly paper were photocopied and handed around the country. It was your website. W-E-B-S-I-T-E. Ask your IT guy to remind you how it works.

2. I can order the print back-issue online? Great! Now, how precisely am I supposed to order the print issue offline when your search engine won’t tell me which edition the article I’m looking for is in? The whole point of search engines is that they’re supposed to find things. I know, I know, it’s confusing, they should have called them “find engines.” As long as you’re calling in a meeting with your IT staff, you can have them explain this one again too.

3. You would like me to pay money to have you physically ship me 0.2 ounces of old newsprint? In order to read four paragraphs of text that were originally published on your website? Here’s a thought: stop huffing glue.

4. Your cunning plan completely failed to prevent me from finding the actual article I was looking for, but it certainly did succeed in preventing you from realizing any advertising revenue based on it!

Thank you for your prompt consideration in this matter,

-Me.

p.s. Stacey Nightmare is funnier than anyone on your staff this year.

stop me before I thrill again

Provided for your displeasure: the top ten proposed taglines for theoryporn.com:


10- Deconstructing your Gaze for $20/month.
9- Putting the “Ahhhhhh” back in Simulacra.
8- Society of the speculum.
7- Dominating the subversive paradigm.
6- Derive-by photoshoots.
5- The text is the body. The body is the text. $20, please.
4- Privilege to the Pr0n!
3- Hot horny amateurs in the desert of the real.
2- Signifier? But I just met her!
1- Simulacrum? Damn near killed him!


Votes and additional suggestions solicited.