Minutes of ESI Healing and Reconciliation meeting

Location: The neutral place
Present: Coyote, Agatha, the Chair, Independent Observer (later), 4thDwarf(much later), Conchie (much much later)
Guests: Conchie’s [redacted]

The meeting opened immediately with finger-pointing and the “blame-game”

Chair moved that CS should be blamed; Coyote seconded; motion carried

The IO arrived and told those present that he saw 4D waiting for us at [redacted] when in fact he had specifically told us we should meet at [redacted]

The team noted that they were concerned about 4D’s memory and proceeded to add him to the blame list

4D arrives and we pretend that there was no concern

We get back to why none of us can seem to coordinate to meet at the same location

IO gets defensive and says one of the reasons he didn’t go to the original venue was some sort of premonition event he had in addition to some technical failure in his communication technology which he produced as exhibit 1 in his evidence file

The Chair asked if there were one or two ‘m’s in the word 'lam-o'

4D says there is one ‘m’ and that it is best spelt as 'lame-o'

At this point, a phone call is made to find CS who is notably absent; IO forgets to dial 10 digits and has to listen to both official languages of Bell Canada’s lecture about the new system; 4D laughs and says it’s the fault of all of you cell phone users as he points around the table

4D offers some lessons learned
One – we should reply to our emails more often
Two – we shouldn’t change venues within the last 24 hours

Agatha gets concerned about this becoming policy and doesn’t like committing so far in advance

The Chair orders his second mojito

Another call is placed to find CS followed by the requisite profanities in response to her absence;
Some discussion takes place about how CS will respond to our concerns about her commitment and it was decided that she will try to divert the conversation to avoid the issue at hand.
CS arrives with [redacted]

The finger pointing resumes with no resolution but instead further lame-o excuses and escalating levels of sarcasm

Points noted: Aggie was baby-sitting which made it impossible to pick up the phone; CS and 4D actively omit each other from various correspondences with the team

The meeting moves to the victim impact statements

4D is somehow a victim because CS isn’t blogging enough, which the Chair thinks is co-dependent behaviour and duly notes it in the minutes

Coyote feels marginalized and the IO admits he is in a shame-spiral

Aggie is struggling with the yin and yang of having both commitment and abandonment issues with the ESIs but is trying to work through it

The Chair feels victimized for having to take the meeting minutes and uses his usual passive-aggressive methods by filing them several days late

CS feels trivialized because some ESIs wouldn’t join her along with the other traitors

Conchie’s [redacted] had no issues and felt privileged -- the jammy blighter

By this point the mojitos had kicked in and the meeting either went ‘in-camera’ or the Chair blacked out

Newsflash: Lana has a new blog!

Even though the Winner of Best Blog in Ottawa loathes the ESIs and everything we stand for, I would like to pimp Lana's blog a little bit here.

The blog is lovely, and she describes it as "about home decorating, gardens and the spaces in between." Nice. Some gorgeous photos. The woman can take pictures, can she not? Her mango salsa photo made me salivate. She could have a career as food stylist. She is Ottawa's very own Martha Stewart!

I noticed there was a little nod to Fourth Dwarf in her June 24th photo. See the little dwarf figure by her window boxes. Aww. Maybe she is trying to make up with him.

Lana also refers to her TBH. That stands for "to-be-hubby". That part made me gag, but that's ok. It's charming that there are people still getting married and coming up with these little abbreviations of endearment. But, of course, we ESIs would like more details about the TBH and the relationship. We know, however, that being metablogged isn't Lana's idea of a good time.

I'm hopeful that Lana's move means that the 5M is also planning a move soon. Time will tell.

Ghana lost, but...

Ghana lost, which was too bad. The good news, though, is that most of the Brazilian players removed their shirts at the end of the game. They also showed good sportspersonship.

Because of the World Cup, my own personal training is going down the tubes.

Dwarves, Shells, Coyotes, Bunnies: Why can't we just all get along?

ESI Healing and Reconciliation Meeting
As called by 4th Dwarf
When: (redacted)
Where: (redacted) (Or if it's miserable, (redacted) as an alternative neutral territory)

Items:
1) Blame Game: Finger-pointing, excuse-making, responsibility-denial
2) Victim Impact Statements
3) Forgiveness, reconciliation, handshakes
4) ESI statements of recent accomplishments
5) Gentle dealing with creative blocks and other "issues"
6) Quiet reflection
7) Other business

Mis-Jive Meeting Minutes

ESIs Present at The Usual Place: 4th Dwarf , Coyote (crayons), Agatha, The Chair
ESIs Present at Not The Usual Place: (At First:) Conch Shell, the Independent Observer, Audrey. (Later:) The Chair, Coyote, Audrey.
Guests: Assorted others, distinguished in their fields.

Location: Not the Usual Place. Then The Usual Place. Then Not the Usual Place, again. It's complicated.

Coyote arrives at Not the Usual Place, and ascertains he is the only ESI on the premises. Even though he's late. While trying to snag a table on the terrace, he gets his tail stomped several times, twice by a snarky server-person bearing an eerie resemblance to Paris Hilton. Offended, he bites her on the ankle and flees, pursued by enthusastic wait-staff.

Coyote emerges precipitately onto onto Elgin Street, to find 4th Dwarf just coming up the sidewalk . They confer quickly re: ugly bouncers, crowded patios and absent ESIs, and, although lacking quorum, decide to repair to The Usual Place to let the heat die down and make a few calls.

They arrive. 4th Dwarf cadges quarters, on grounds that his interstellar communicator has been freaked by sunspots, and repairs to a phone booth to ask absent ESIs where the f*ck they've gotten to.

Quarters flow like water. Certain ESIs are contacted in person, and messages are left for those who are unavailable.

4th Dwarf returns. Beverages are ordered.

Agatha arrives, trumpeting the advantages of shower caps on bicycle seats.

Those present decry the slow, painful death of the formerly-ubiquitous public telephone callbox, and the general run-down scuzziness of those that remain.

4th Dwarf expounds on the virtues of the [redacted] coffee shop and the utility of the hotties therein for inciting hormonal flow, thus jolting him awake whilst studying for his extremely boring astrogation exams.

Agatha endorses this stratagem, saying that she hies herself to [redacted] in the Glebe when she gets mystery writer's block, to watch, um, stimulating people while she works.

Those present begin discussing relationships.

The Chair arrives, hours late.

Those already present very quickly cease discussing The Chair's relationship, and segue smoothly into something completely innocuous.

Dwarf cadges more quarters, and begins re-calling various venues and cellphones. He discovers that Conch Shell, the Independent Observer and Audrey, none of whom were answering their phones earlier, have apparently lucked into a prime table at Not The Usual Place. Watches are synchronised and times compared, and it is ascertained that they managed to do this mere seconds after Coyote got his furry butt ejected, and he and the Dwarf rolled off to The Usual Place. And that neither party managed to spot the other in the confusion. Coyote is justifiably embarrassed.

"Screw 'em," says Agatha. "This is the official meeting. We have quorum." General nods of agreement. Aggie always gets it right.

ESIs proceed to completely ignore the meeting agenda. It is rumoured that Conch Shell has adopted a pet bunny. Coyote is heartbroken that she's not there. Coyote loves bunnies. Especially young and tender ones ones of young and tender years.

As excited conversation about [redacted] heats up, Aggie begins to gesticulate wildly and nearly spills her pink gin on Coyote.

[redacted!]

Aggie, blushing only slightly, pays her bill and gracefully excuses herself.

With quorum broken, the meeting winds down. Dwarf, citing a previous engagement, buggers off to [redacted]

Figuring the bouncer's shifts must have changed by now, Coyote and the Chair head back up Elgin Street to Not the Usual Place, to see if they can find the Independent Observer and Conch Shell. And find out more about this bunny...

As they approach Not the Usual Place, Coyote and The Chair are greeted by Audrey, who informs them that Conch and the IO have already left with a small exploring party, to survey [redacted]. Coyote is heartbroken all over again.

Rapid exchange of descriptions of bouncers now present. Satisfied with their findings in this regard, Coyote, The Chair, and Audrey repair back into Not the Usual Place, but to a different section, where Coyote remains unrecognized. Fresh beverages are ordered. Relationships of all those no longer present are discussed. The Chair and Audrey, finding themselves famished by this, order a light supper. Coyote orders cheesecake to console himself. But it's not the same...

Oh yeah. The agenda. Final remaining ESIs totter off into the night, in the knowledge that we'll have to try to set up yet another meeting -- this time, one where everybody actually ends up in the same place -- if we're ever going to address the actual agenda.

Shower caps, Bob, and Conch Shell

I'll start with my first in a series of "training tips" I've learned since I got up off my divan and started working with Olga, my personal trainer. This one is brilliant. If your bike seat is wet, just slip a shower cap over it. The elastic grips over it beautifully, and you don't have to deal with the awkwardness of plastic bags, or worse, having a wet arse. This kind of tip is something you might find on David Scrimshaw's blog. That young man is just full of delightful ideas. He may be the most eligible bachelor in Ottawa, come to think of it. But I digress.

On to Bob - I know I worry too much about him. He is so young and sweet and innocent. I will be worried until I know he is safely back from the dangers and temptations of New York.

I'm concerned about Conch Shell, too. She is not so innocent, but her silence on the blog has caused me many a sleepless night.

Finding a Suitable Place

I was about to use the facilities at one of the new Bridgeheads yesterday when I was reminded of something Audrey, ^{Note 1} our Ethics Consultant, said at a recent gathering:

One of the problems with turning forty is you can't have sex in bathrooms any more.

We all responded predictably.

The lasses: "Twenty is too old for sex in a bathroom!"

The lads (or at least one gallant lad who shall remain nameless): "Audrey! Come on, I'd have sex with you in a bathroom!"

Of course, even if Audrey had been of a mind to accept the offer, we were in an establishment with unsuitable bathrooms. Tiny, cramped stalls that a person could easily look over or under the barriers of and surfaces that you'd be afraid to touch.

But you know, these restrooms at the Bridgeheads are a different story. They're huge, spotlessly clean, and have solid doors that lock. And look at the sign they put on the door. It's practically suggesting that you use the place with a friend.


^{Note 1} On Friday, the EC told me that (a) She doesn't want to be called the Ethics Consultant because "no guy will want to go out with me with that name"; and (b) She doesn't want a pseudonym "that sounds like a stripper". So, even though I can't see a guy being put off by the EC moniker, I'm going with Audrey.

Taking One's Muses to the Bank

Reviewing the recent blog entries and meeting minutes suggests that the ESI’s will only get their collective stride if they have a muse – be it 5th or anyone else. I suppose one shouldn’t be surprised. Great artists from time immemorial have required such accoutrements to inspire their creativity.

But choosing the right muse makes all the difference. Take Woody Allen, for instance.

I recently rented Mr. Allen’s latest flick, Match Point, which stars the ever-lovely Scarlett Johansson (from Lost in Translation fame). Though she denies the rumours of being Woody’s latest muse, Ms. Johansson is playing the leading role in his next movie, Scoop. But times are different now. First off, there is nothing resembling any off-screen romance that pretty much set the precedence for Diane Keaton and Mia Farrow. As far as I know, Soon-Yi Previn is still his off-screen sidekick since she changed her relationship status with Woody from “stepdaughter” to wife in the 1997.

Regardless, Woody’s onscreen muses have pretty much defined his cinematic career. But have the muses generated the box-office results? Since the early eighties, with the exception of 1986’s Hannah and her Sisters, Woody Allen movies have been money-losing ventures. There are competing theories as to why he can’t turn a buck anymore. The main theory is that he doesn’t have to. It’s all about the art. I think there is some truth to that. When movies like The Bodyguard can make over $100 million, one doesn’t need to look any further for answers. Another theory is that, at least since 1992 when things got creepy (rumour is that Mia Farrow found nude photos of her, then 22-year-old, adopted daughter in Woody’s apartment) his fan base has dwindled for moral reasons. I have friends -- mostly women -- who will not go see his movies anymore. A final theory, well one I have anyway, is that he hasn’t found a muse equivalent to the golden days of Diane Keaton (from Play it Again, Sam to Manhattan). I fell in love with her character in Annie Hall and no one has matched that high point yet.

Using the powers of statistical analysis I decided to test these three competing theories.

Methodology

The first test was to look at the ratings of Woody’s movies and specifically the relationship between box office draw and critical acclaim. If a critic liked the movie but the same film lacked box-office appeal, it would support the “I’m-in-it-for-the-art” theory, and moreover, why Adam Sandler with a magic remote control is playing at a theatre near you. To explore the “boycott-the-diddler” theory, I would analyze the returns of Woody’s movies pre- and post-period of the said event. The final test examines the box office returns for Mr. Allen’s films from the Diane Keaton versus the Mia Farrow period.


To use a consistent source of critical review I relied on Roger Ebert’s assessment using a 4-star scale. Where Ebert did not have a review rating, I relied on consensus results from similar critics (only 4 alternate sources were required). To measure the impact of Keaton, Farrow, and the “diddle-factor”, I employed the use of dummy variable analysis in a multiple regression linear analog commonly used in multi-variate analysis.

Results

First off, the art theory can be immediately dismissed. If Roger Ebert didn’t like the movie, the results were significantly negative at the box-office. Every additional star Ebert gave an Allen movie generated an extra $6 million. The diddle-factor was definitely a negative attribute but it was highly negatively collinear with the Mia Farrow factor, which makes sense since she stopped making movies with him once he started snogging her daughter. Analysis of the Mia period pre-diddle compared to the post-diddle period indicates that the diddle-factor was indeed negative, lopping about $2.5 million dollars of a typical box-office receipt. To look exclusively at the Keaton versus Farrow effect, an analysis isolating the diddle factor and Ebert’s review was undertaken. The results clearly indicate that in the pre-diddle period, Keaton’s presence on the screen added about $4.7 million to typical box office take whereas Ms. Farrow’s presence reduced the take by about $8 million.

The results showed no Ebert preference for either Ms. Farrow or Ms. Keaton, or any evidence of Ebert having any bias in his ratings post-1992 as a result of the salacious details of Woody’s family situation. In fact, he showed only a slight bias towards favouring films starring Ms. Farrow, yet this was neither significant nor material enough to change the negative box-office impact of her screen presence.

In conclusion, Mia was a huge negative effect, and more than twice the negative impact than anything subsequently attributed to Woody sleeping with her daughter. Overall, the combined effect cut his box-office take roughly in half.

Which brings me back to Ms. Johansson. Match Point is the first moneymaker for Woody Allen in over 15 years. If I were his financial backer, I would say stick with this muse. On the plus side, Ms. Johansson, at 21 years of age and still single, is probably at least a decade away from having any children that would be of interest to Woody. By that time, no one will care either way. More likely, she’ll probably be Adam Sandler’s muse in Click IV: Batteries Not Included. That’s just the way Hollywood works.

You don't have to be perfect for someone to love you...

Restaurants You Won't Find Me In

Sure, people like Bob can tell you what restaurants you can go to for good food. [Like this] Today, I'm here to tell you what restaurants to not go to. Or at least, the restaurants that the Fourth Dwarf won't go to.

Vineyards Wine Bar and Bistro, 54 York Street (In the Cellar).
They have half-decent food, I even like the steak and fries. But the waiters won't bring you wine. They make you go to the bar for it. Why? I don't know and I don't care! When I'm out for supper in a restaurant, I want people to bring me both my food and my beverage. Sure, when you're at a party it can be convenient to say, "excuse me, I'm going to go freshen my glass," but when you're out trying your moves, you want the wine to flow!

Marché Lino, Rideau Centre (Ottawa's Mov'n'Pick)
I don't mind eating at a food court or in a cafeteria sometimes. But I don't want to have to line up at three different stations to get my meal and then arrive at the table to find my dinner companion has finished eating. This alone is enough for me, even without the 15% "service" charge they add to the bill for clearing dishes from your table and standing behind the counters you line up at.

Dunns Famous Deli, 220 Elgin St
A few years ago, the owner had tax trouble in the same week he had workers from his Kingston location picketing outside the restaurant for not paying their back wages. Apparently he paid everybody what he owes, but even before this, the Dwarf had a breakfast with some friends that didn't go well. When I asked for water, the waiter told us, "it'll be a while." It was. We never got it. The place was busy, the staff was frantic. There was this guy bossing people around and trying to squeeze in more customers. I snapped. The boss guy didn't take it well.

Some seafood place in Centretown
I'm not sure which one it is, but I hear through the grapevine that a certain ex is working at a seafood restaurant. You'll be safe going there as long as it's not with me. If you are with me, you could wind up getting splashed with clam chowder when it gets dumped on my head.

What's been going on...

While some of us have been going to fancy dinners, lounging about with personal trainers or sniffing out recipes from the Trilateral Commission, I've been investigating a series of events that affect us all personally. Through careful research, long hours, sleepless nights, and some activities that might skirt the fringes of the law, I have learned of a nefarious plot against us.

I believe I've gotten to the bottom of the whole scheme and to save time in explaining how all the evidence fits together, I've prepared a visual aid that explains it all.

Click on the image to see my new animated featurette.

The Legendary BilderBurger

We in Ottawa have heard [too] much this weekend about the Bilderberg Conference, just now wrapping up in beautiful west end Kanata. There seem to be two commentator camps: one that shrilly suspects high conspiracy, and another that (equally) shrilly pokes slaggish humour at conspiracy junkies. [see Earl McRae of the Ottawa Stun and some anonymously-puerile Petfinder editorialist demonstrating way too much conversance with wacko conspiracy theories to be anything less than suspect. (Step on up, either John Robson or Scott Anderson....)]

Actual Bilderbergers, famously, say nothing about what they actually do behind their famously closed doors. But as the Independent Observer said to me not too long ago, it's gotta be something -- they've been coming back at it since 1954, fer cripe's sake. And Top-Sekrit bunfests drawing assorted heads of state, billionaires, media moguls, oil barons, high-tech elflords, chairmen of the also-shadowy Trilateral Commission, et cetera, do kinda prompt one to ask what the attraction might be. I mean, these are guys who know better than any mere mortal that time is money. And the golf course was rained out all weekend...

Nevertheless, your humble, hairy correspondent believes he and the IO may have answers. One is that Bilderbergers, much like the Elgin Street Irregulars, are total wankers. With exponentially more money and power. What better way to say "Really, It's All About Us" than to hold a party and exclude everybody who doesn't know the Top Sekrit Handshake?

And what better way to say 'party' than to have the overpriced kitchen help sear a few burgers on the grill while everybody boogies like it's 1954 again, among the citronella-scented tiki torches? Which is what led your humble correspondent to the Brookstreet Hotel. Being a semimythical coyote, I was ignored by the thicknecked types clad in earpieces and cheap suits with suspicious bulges. Being a semimythical coyote, I also ignored them. Also the political discussions in the salon. I give not a rodent's rearmost for such things. I homed straight in on the kitchen, just followin' my pointy nose. And struck gold. Well, actually a garbage can, with a slightly smeared and aromatic recipe card.

Dare I say this is what keeps bringing 'em back?

The Legendary BilderBurger

1 lb -- minced AAA filet mignon, formed into a patty, and seared to blushing medium rare over select endangered rainforest hardwood charcoals.

Place on a President's Choice Gigantico (white bread) poppy seed bun, spread with with garlic aeoli spiked liberally The Macallan 25-year old single malt scotch whisky.

Garnish with:
1.75 oz. Beluga Malossol 000 Black Sea Caviar;
2 oz. black and white shaved French truffles, (none of that upstart Asian crap...)
a soupçon of dijon mustard,
hydroponic tomato,
pickle slices
fresh-ground black pepper to taste.

Serve with:
Fresh-cut fries and a side salad of assorted rare in-season (somewhere in the world) melon balls tossed with castor sugar and Pinar del Rio Gautier cognac, served in iced crystal.

Suggested beverage: Krug Clos du Mesnil Champagne, chilled.

What's it like? Who the hell knows? I only smelled the sucker. But is not wretched excess almost always tasteful...?

Personal Trainer Update 2: Caught in a Lie

Olga caught me in a lie. When she asked me in our last session how far my home was from my workplace, I told her it was a 20-minute bike ride. It is really only a
10-minute bike ride. I didn't realize that Olga had access to my personal information, including my home address. She started off today's session by peering down her glasses at me and saying, "I see you live only 10 minutes away from your work." I blushed, realizing that I had been caught in a lie. Then, I started babbling and stuttering about how I had done my homework: my bike was tuned up; my coffee was all set up; my gym bag was nearly ready to go... I added that I had taken a very long walk with Conch Shell. She said, "You seem really proud of yourself." I told her that I felt I was following the plan quite successfully. She said, "Your homework this week is to bike home the long way -- and I mean the long way. I nodded. Then, I said, "I think it would be good if I kept a little notebook of all this." She laughed and said, "You seem to like notebooks, and these kinds of things, don't you?... Sure keep a notebook, why not?" The next time I see Olga is after the July 1st long weekend. This is when she wants to see real progress.

ESI's in therapy

4D's meeting minutes made me realize that our ESI's are in need of some emergency therapy on one another in this blog AND asking for it.

Just as a starter, I'm concerned about Aggie's violent tendencies -- and the Chair's closed emotions. Let's start with those two problems. So, why would Aggie get violent? Hours and hours of arguing leading to a clock being thrown . . . Is this reasonable anger, or does this show that deep down Aggie could turn murderous, given the right provocation?

I wonder if her years of being "too nice" have created an evil alter-ego that should remain emotionally shackled except for in controlled environments. Perhaps, at the next ESI meeting, someone should bring a pillow and urge Aggie to punch it while she yells.

Next -- the Chair referred to his emotional distance issues. No doubt, he was "joking" in the meeting -- but -- we know how many of us use humour to relay the truth in a less threatening way. Maybe the Chair should be banned from humour for a while? Maybe then his emotions will get closer to his heart instead of his mind?

Ad hoq Meeting Minutes

Special Theme: Commitment

ESIs Present: 4th Dwarf (scribe), Coyote, Agatha, Chair
Guests: Anonymous Woman, Grumpy Guy
ESIs with better things to do: Independent Observer, Conch Shell

Location: Not the usual place.

• Grumpy Guy (GG) asks how the metablog is going now that it’s back. “It’s a little uneven, but we’re finding our feet,” says Coyote. “Ah, ha, sophomore jinx!” says GG. 4D pulls out his notebook. “Write that down,” says Coyote.


• “So, are you a blogger?” GG asks Anonymous Woman (AW). “I used to be,” says AW, "now I only drop in on Coyote's Blog." The others are silent. Until the waitress arrives.


• Beverages are ordered. 4D orders water with his “coffee”.


• The beverages arrive. Coyote starts drinking 4D’s water. 4D takes this well but observes that one could go into a rant about how the server should bring everyone water when one person orders it. “I might have said that,” says GG, “but if I did, 4D would have said I’m always grumpy.” “That’s right,” says 4D, “I would have said that.”


• Agatha arrives, forcing the group to move inside to another table. Where we are surrounded by Roman Catholic images and iconography. We have brief fun swearing in French Canadian as there is a sculpture of Christ holding the “tabernacle” on a shelf behind Coyote.
  


• Our new server places a tall lit candle on the table. She has a remarkably brilliant set of tattoos on her right arm that provokes a lively discussion of tattoos when she leaves. The ESIs and guests all conclude that our commitment issues preclude the possibility of any of us ever getting a tattoo.


• When the server returns, Agatha compliments her tattoos and we receive a brief presentation. The tattoos, done by the gentlemen at five cents tattoos are flowers that represent herself and various women in her life. The flowers relate to the women’s astrological signs and birth months.


• The Chair arrives. AW asks why he didn’t reply to the invitation emails. “He doesn’t reply to these emails,” says 4D. “Not when I can’t commit,” says the Chair, “and I’ve been very busy.”


• The Chair starts to order a pilsner, but when the server is confused, chooses a lager instead. 4D observes this is good because a movie star on Letterman said that guys who order pilsner in Britain are “pussies”. The others ask which movie star. 4D strains his foggy memory and finally recalls it was Tom Hanks.


• A lively discussion ensues about Tom Hanks' new hairstyle. When this topic is exhausted (which took longer than the dwarf would have expected) we move onto the Da Vinci code. Coyote’s review of the movie: “Stupid, but great fun.”


• 4D wonders whether there are any hidden messages in the religious images around us. We discuss the source material for Dan Brown’s novel. The Chair announces he will be working on a new project “Da Vinci’s Postal Code” “It could be D3V 1L5,” suggests 4D.


• Over the evening, several conversations are sparked by the poster above the left urinal in the men’s room. “Viagra” it says on a large blue pill and “Talk to your doctor” on a line underneath. 4D suggests he would like to add some text to the sign but cannot think of anything worthwhile. Neither can the others.


• A conversation ensues about the use of Viagra. “The dick is very complex,” observes the Chair. All agree.


• AW decides to go chat with friends from her old home town of [redacted] at another table.


• GG announces he must leave to “take care of some things.”


• The ESIs notice that there are now only metabloggers at the table and begin to talk about the state of the metablog. “GG put his finger on the problem,” says Coyote. “What’s that?” asks the Chair. 4D consults his notes “Sophomore Jinx.”


• “Of course,” says the Chair. “We put everything we had into our first album and now we’ve got nothing for the second,” says Coyote.


• “How do we get through it?” asks the Chair. “We just push on through,” says the Dwarf, “we have to get through the bad stuff before we can get to the good stuff.”


• We discuss Agatha’s failed attempt to draw out the 5th Muse. All but Aggie believe that 5M is not blogging anywhere and not reading the ESIs.


• We discuss what other blogs we could metablog and conclude that we have not yet found a suitable replacement for the 5M. Qualities necessary for a replacement:

Literary merit (or readability);




Drama (or the kind of stuff people talk around a water cooler); and




An anonymous author who won’t be freaked out by us analyzing everything they write.

• Possibilities put forward but decided against:
  

Hannah Rockhead – well written, funny, but too infrequent, not enough ongoing character development




Naked Condo Guy – Vetoed by Aggie out of hand (having just checked him out to get the hyperlink, he just seems to be about naked pictures now anyway.)




Asteroidea Press and Matilda Zine – Highly readable, dramatic, but not anonymous.




Tap My Glass – Anonymous. But where’s the drama? And cleaning out a colon doesn’t count!

• The ESIs decide to continue looking.


• AW returns.


• The conversation moves on to the horrors of childhood road trips and our father’s reaching over the seat to attempt to whack us in the backseat. We determine that this is no longer done because parents no longer hit their children and DVD players and playstations mean that children on road trips are silent. AW shares horror stories of otherwise intelligent adults who are ruled by their children. Agatha contributes a story of a mother whose toddler picked up a pair of sharp scissors. “It makes me anxious when you pick up those scissors,” said the mother.


• “I’m glad I was raised to be the emotionally distant person that I am,” says the Chair.


• “I had a brief relationship with a man who was raised by therapists,” says Aggie.


• “That’s like a step away from being raised by wolves,” says the Chair.


• Aggie: He would say things like “but Agatha, I’m just honouring my feelings.” “Oh, yeah,” I’d say, “honour this!” {Agatha makes a gesture that uses only one finger of her right hand.} He was the most manipulative person I ever dated…. The only person I ever got violent with.


• Coyote: Violent?


• Aggie: Oh, yes. I hit him… stuff flew across the room… I tore a clock off the wall. It was two-thirty AM and I yelled “Do you know how long we’ve been fighting?”


• The evening winds down. The Chair returns from the mens room and reports that the gentleman using the urinal with the Viagra sign had failed to trigger the infrared sensor on the automatic flusher. “It was like he was a vampire or something. It gave me the willies.”


• “No pun intended,” says Agatha giving us the last line recorded by your faithful secretary.


• Someone notes how short the candle on the table now is and 4D takes a photo.
  

Dear Musie,

I know you are blogging. I can just feel it. I just searched for your new blogspot. I tried 5M, 5Muse, Muse5, Muse5th, Musie, etc... No luck.

As you can see, the metablog has moved on to dynamic new topics. However, you were our original inspiration. Please tell us where you are.