A Poem on Stuff – Or what I will do here

Well, see over at kos I post a lot of analytical and activist stuff like cross-posting stuff for the DNC Vice Chair (which lots of people read) and creating master plans to win back the House (which fewer people read).  I’d link to those tow posts, but dkos is down at the moment anyway.

Well, everytime I look at this beautiful new scoop site I feel a need to post on it.  But I don’t want to treat it the way I treat myDD: like that second puppy you bought that you give crappier (ie solely crossposted) treats too.  No, I figured I had to do something different over here at the Booman Tribune.

So I looked at that silly green frog and I was inspired.  From now on, I shall post playful (but still vaguely political) stuff over here and serious stuff over at dkos.

So without further ado…a silly poem.






Is a picture really worth a thousand words?

I’ve been concerned about writing diaries. I’m not much of a writer. I can write long comments, but when it comes to starting something interesting, alas, I have no creativity.

Creativity is not something I’m lacking mind you. I’m very creative when I want to be. I’m an artist though, not a writer, and I’ve been told a picture is worth a thousand words.  My concern is that I’d like to create graphic diaries, and discuss the ramifications that the artwork suggests. is that something people are interested in or not? I need the answer to this question.






oatmeal / sugar smacks

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….

I coined the use of the terms:

oatmeal

and

sugar smacks….

In reference to two different types of diaries on dKos.  Oatmeal being the kind of upright, forthright decent citizen….a kind of John Proctor meets the Quaker oat man kind of figure….whose political writing matched that appearance.  Stolid, informative, earnest, wonky.

And…Sugar Smacks….well, we all know the frog here…it was about writing with humor, life, brio, a kind of insistance that we human animals like to pick the lice off each other once and awhile.  And, hey, that can be good too.

What the hell did I mean?  What was I getting at?  Did I even have an, ahem, political message…??






Can unimaginable behavior become ordinary?

M Y    V I E W S ::
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Tomtech in his must-read series “This Week in Fascism,” asked us to “find some ways to determine who is in league with the fascists.”

Recently, I howled while reading Meteor Blades‘ imagined fate for that nadir of nepotism, Jonah Goldberg — chained “to the floor in front of his computer for a 36-hour stretch, letting him squirm in his own feces and urine while listening to  Bush say ‘moooooolahs’ and ‘nukular’ repeatedly at 100 decibels.”

“But none of my friends,” Meteor Blades continued, “would turn their idle dreams of torture into reality no matter what the provocation. …

I hope so.  But I’m not at all sure.  Malcolm Gladwell has successfully questioned assumptions we make about instant impressions and reflexive reactions.  There are more assumptions for us to challenge: How we will react over a period of time to special sets of stimuli.

::: more below :::






Deescalating My Booman Involvement, goodbye cruel world

After many hours of Booman Tribune involvement, I have come to the conclusion that while it showed a lot of promise, there are some aspects with which I cannot put up.

Like, um, one of the yellow pixels in the logo pisses me off.  It should be blue.

I used to have high hopes for the Booman Tribune, the frog, the dog, the few number of recommends to get a recommended diary.  But you know what… if my diary isn’t recommended by now who am I trying to fool… you are obviously bad-liberals rather than the good kind I have come to expect.  That is obvious.  Good people don’t not recommend something because it is crud, they recommend it BECAUSE it’s crud to inspire the recommender.  Or is that the recommendee?  I lost track of my complaint.

I mean who is booman trying to fool, obviously this site, while appearing to be about me (I see my own name to the right) is really about not-me.  This just isn’t acceptable in a me-shaped universe.

It was nice while it lasted.