District Strategy Memo: 4/16/99

I keep checking Aaron's walking blog. Like, obsessively. There were several layers of confusion at first but I think I've got them narrowed down and I'd like to regale you all with my process for reasons to be made clear a few paragraphs from now.

My initial confusion (anger) was how shitty Aaron was at keeping up the blog. Seriously, a few posts, now and again, to let us know the nature of nature, give us some Thoreauessean droning on the itemized contents of his pack, or detail the interesting crevasses in the metaphysical cocoon from which he will soon emerge, glorious and bound for his own apartment.

Of course, the obvious problem when these ideas are enumerated is the lack of internet accessibility in the woods. Of course, I wasn't confused, delusional or distracted enough to imagine computer kiosks peppered throughout the wilderness, nary a foot from the droppings of a wildebeest or whatever monstrosities populate the Eastern Woods, but unconsciously I have to guess this was my rationale.

So, immediately after asking myself why I kept checking, this was tossed aside. Not nearly quick enough, as it seems, because I kept thinking about it. First, why do I check this thing? How often is there something other than Eric's pretty pictures or another irritating short story from me and Tina ("irritating short story" being the perspective of you douchbags, which I am here to faithfully represent) but not even that anymore. Mostly, it's just nothing and the obsessive checking and re-checking only serves to make parallels between the postings of several lazy twenty-somethings with easy computer access and the hypothetical entries of a hobo.

(An aside here...I wrote this in two spurts split with sleep and there was a moment when I worried that someone would post something and ruin my point. I weighed alternative uses for this really really interesting self-examination, throwing it away, making it into a poem [no, I didn't actually weigh that, rule of three, right? and I've only got two...] and finally, [actually] just ranting for another few paragraphs about how whoever fucking posted in these doldrums, how was I supposed to assume for that, the weight of these very difficult, race-against-time type posts, all that. Good thing that didn't happen, right?)

This examination thing is two-fold, I guess. First, it plops (I mean it...) something into this desolation, giving the impression that something remains of our former glory, and secondly it provides only the eighth or ninth call for resurrection. This time, instead of simply lamenting our fate I propose three alternatives or plans for renewal.

First, the entire blog becomes a continued attempt to save the blog. Any interest in the blog will fall away quickly, but posting will become a lot more fun. Just rant and rave about how no one posts and how the blog is dying, six or seven of these posts a day. I've seen blog death, but meta blog death? Fuck yeah.

Secondly, BlogOlympics. A turn based, point awarded posting system judged by independent arbiters (truly independent, and possibly named by and related to me for added ultra-fairness [my genetic structure is renowned for fairness]) where we compete for BloGold. Judged on length, spelling (good or bad? What is the blog standard, you ask? For the judges, my friend, for the judges.) craftsmanship, number of huge pictures, super-annoying blog-takeovers, all this and more.

Third. Final. Last. Not Simply to Fulfill Basic Structural Rules Already References Earlier, Really, Seriously Because I Had Three Plans. A Rousing Call to Arms.

We take this blog story thing further, larger, bigger than anything. We still have our shitizenry, but if there is nothing to report or blather on about, let's tackle the case of the Australian (I call him that...anybody else have a shorthand for that motherfucker?) or any other fictional mascot (Flashes of wasted Cole stabbing my beloved urine-queen and melting her on the fire) we might like to have. Not an overbearance, but an overarchance (nice word, up there with Thoreauessean)(Talk like a human being, parentheses, parentheses parentheses fuck.) that will serve as an automatic background to everything we write.

Or perhaps we'll leave this fucking thing to rot in the inter-ether.


ETC said...

Ha, nobody even cares. Its true isn't it? Nobody. No, thats not true. We care we care. We're just lazy and self absorbed.

Anna Nym said...

Eric...It would have been so much better if no one had responded to that. We could have just made new posts and Grant would have wiggled with discomfort.

Anna Nym said...

I just read Tina's comment on her computer as she laid beside me reading. This is nonsense, fucking patent nonsense. Now, I'm writing this comment while she watches and giggles. Yes, Tina giggles. There, she did it again at the giggle line and she keeps doing it until this line gets too long and it just isn't funny anymore. She stopped laughing a few dozen words ago and only now am I moving on.

Regarding my actual comment, yes it would have been funny, Tina. Haha, she's still there, reading. Fucked up. We are complete wastes...

But it still would have been funny. But it still would have been a waste and you both failed to respond to the brilliant master plans I laid forward. That was the point of the post, not another lament for your lazy asses. I know you're lazy, I don't need to confirm it, I need you to stop it.


TheGrza said...

Even fucking better, I wrote it as Tina. I'm all enveloped in a recursive hell and my pork chops burning.


madam tyrant said...

Why is it that whenever i forget to check the blog for a couple of days I feel like I've missed something important? I saw you fuckers days ago and you had nothing to say and now? Oh how are you feeling grza? I heard you were sick. What's up for the weekend? Dude so they killed off Marissa on the O.C. and I actually cried. I'm really offended that they think they can just do that to me and expect the world to continue revolving. I also saw the last That 70's show ever. Bummer. Dan was actually more upset about it than me and suggested that we buy both that 70's show and the oc on dvd. If I wasn't married to him I swear to god I would wonder...

TheGrza said...


You really didn't miss anything. Grant was just pissy because we all have lives, the kinds of lives that don't allow us to compulsively check for new posts on the blog. If you want to improve his mood, make a new post.

But really, I think we should just let him squirm a bit.

I would actually be able to contribute more often, but Grant always hijacks my computer for hours on end. By the time he lays off the keys, I'm so thankful it's over that I could never imagine using it for myself. It's hardly even mine anymore. I have no idea what he has downloaded, and when I do know, it's often regrettable. For instance, he downloaded skype for me and then promptly earned me a place on someone's ignore list by harassing said person about cake, and whether it is better to use water or milk in the batter. He just wouldn't let it go. After the person refused to continue the dialogue online and politely asked that Grant leave him alone, Grant physically CALLED this poor man at his house to pursue more cake nonsense.

It was pretty fucking funny.

See, Grant, when you aren't on my computer, I am able to use it. Look at the length of this comment!

I will say this, however, for Grant's computer addiction. Most people who can't leave a computer for more than five minutes are draining their lives away with fantasy pursuits--namely pornography and chat rooms. Grant has no interest in porn (at least not on my/his computer), and I've never seen him chat about anything other than cake. He is trolling for information, looking for new posts, and making posts on other blogs in an effort to spread the influence of his intellect across cyberspace.

I respect that.

Maybe we should show our love and post some shit.

...When we feel like it.

Anna Nym said...

The computer takeover is complete.

In this swatch of commentary, there is one comment where Grant posts under my user name, and now it seems that I've reciprocated. Not that it's confusing. It doesn't really need to be explained. It's just plain stupid.

ETC said...


Anna Nym said...

Wow is right. This is the most action our blog has seen in weeks. Be thrilled. Be elated.

Be productive.

Justice Rare said...

It's all blurry, this ship is sinking into a bleeding tank of despair and unadulterated curiousity. The little pink shoes that you used to wear have all become used and filled with apartment complexes. Remember when you used to fly, high...like weed, above this smoke laden society and curse at the industry and the homeless assholes and the worthless despots? How magnificent you were when you crashed, how magestic you once seemed before you gave up you're razor cuts for brushes and prozac. How much more we all oved you when you couldn't stand yourself. How you used to be the apple of my eye and the glimmer in my heart. How you failed me over, and over again. Why have changed, why have you laid off the hard stuff when you know it only makes you tougher?