Chinese democracy, one fiction at a time...

That nuanced thrash-metal philosopher, Axl Rose, famously spent a decade trying to spit-glue together his Chinese Democracy album, an assault on the fictional nature of that concept.

Predictably, it was banned in China, spiritual home of the Staged One-Party-State News Event. North Korea may beg to differ, but I digress.

Here in Canada, between: the PM gettin' his freak on over heavy-handed message control, such that even most senior ministers are only allowed to read canned statements lashed together by half-smart li'l ReformaTory twerps in the PMO's rapidly-expanding Stephen Harper Information Torquing machine (The acronym says it all. But I digress again. To make up for not doing it last post, Ms. Zoom, ma'am...); Other ReformaTory twerps ginning up SunTV as a de facto party organ (heh...); And Immigration Minister Jason Kenney ordering his hapless civil servants to cobble up a, ummm, very special, immigration affirmation ceremony for his very special pals over at that self-same party organ, "And make it snappy!", we might seem to be well on our way toward a solidly domestic version of the Chinese democracy that it took Axl 10 years just to wrap his heavy-me(n)tal bandanna around and write about.

In maybe only a little more than half the time.

An overpowered media vehicle is doing its very best to impose a series of fictions about the current government's deeds, and the country as a whole, upon the mass consciousness. Those fictions, swallowed, would supplant something beautiful, real, and far more inconvenient and messy for current government inclinations.

The hilarity, for the rest of us, comes when that vehicle - inevitably - fishtails violently, busts loose, and screeches, upside-down, into the ditch. Witness the yuks when some StunTV (news?)weasel's brave statement, "Lets do it! We can fake the oath!" was dredged into the actual sunlight. Despite the best efforts of the PM and his gang to make the (real) media lie down, roll over, and beg, they apparently ain't cowed to the point where everybody can look away and ignore authoritarian absurdity.

In the spirit of fairness and balance, I should point out that the immigration minister has disavowed all knowledge. Cool. This has all sortsa well-worn precedent, established by both the fictional Secretary of the Impossible Mission Forces and the possibly-fictional minister's all-too-real spin doctors. Whenever a fiction-based scam goes sideways, the offishul playbook says to pile more fiction onto that sucker like crazy, then hoof somebody who isn't you under the bus. And self-righteously pretend to all and sundry that that little PMO-approved set piece dealt with it completely.

People, repeat after the coyote: "Repetition does not make an untrue thing, right!". Remembering that grouchy semi-mythical coyotes was born with their long pointy noses, where the minister appears to be growing his... as he speaks.

We're not the only ones creeping out bloggers!

Yesterday, local blogger DaniGirl of Postcards from the Mothership reported that she was freaked out and felt violated that her blog along with 7 others had become the subject of a master's thesis, “Works in Progress: An Analysis of Canadian Mommyblogs by Heather Lyn Fleming.

According to DaniGirl, Fleming made "egregious assumptions" about the bloggers and was unethical in not contacting them or getting their permission before writing or publishing.

I'm don't know what the "egregious assumptions" were. They might be mentioned somewhere in DaniGirl's original posting on the thesis, but I don't want to take the time to go through the 97 comments on the off chance they are mentioned. I think I'll just assume that I wouldn't find them to be any worse than assumptions I've made when reading other people's blogs.

In Today's followup, DaniGirl seems to be less freaked out and has backed away from her original position, but not all the way:

I can’t say that I regret my original post, because I wrote it in good faith and I think it resulted in a truly fascinating conversation. I haven’t changed my mind about thinking that Theryn crossed a line in her assumptions, and that she took my work out of context.

Of course, Fleming is also a blogger. She seems to have taken the criticism in stride:

#creepythesis

February 22, 2010

I woke up yesterday morning to find my thesis had its own twitter hashtag.

I’m not going to launch into a defense. Readers are free to think my writing is crap, skim it, interpret it differently than I intended, etc. That’s the nature of writing. I just wanted to acknowledge that I’ve seen the reaction.

On the bright side (!), more people probably read my thesis yesterday than read most people’s theses ever

For more commentary:

• Dani is feeling indignant at Coffee with Julia
• #creepythesis on Twitter
• "Me, " the Subject of a Master's Thesis...?
• Creepy Thesis? by a subject who didn't find it all that creepy
  

R.I.P., J.D.

Life as the Elgin Street Irregulars' designated literary coyote is not all free wine and cheese book launches, lemme tell ya.

Cards and letters began pouring in last week, politely pointing out that after the royal sendoff one gave to Erich Segal, it would be utterly churlish of one not to do the same for the late J.D. Salinger.

A more recent rash of polite missives has begun to pose the question: "Speaking of late, why the hell has one not stirred one's fuzzy butt and done so, already?

My bad.

But JD poses a unique quandary. His record. About mid-last century, he writes a clutch of short stories and novellas, and a vanishingly small number of novels, one brilliant, and one pretty damn good.

After which he bugs out to New Hampshire and turns recluse, not publishing another word for half a century, amid whispers that he's still writing reams of brilliant stuff for his own amusement only.

You can see the problem for pioneering metabloggers such as ourselves, even ones that have moved on from their original purpose. We have lived (and occasionally died) by the daily outpouring of committed bloggery. People who post more than regularly and who veer into the breathtakingly confessional at the mere drop of an innuendo. An innuendo often as not picked up, dusted off, undressed and punted center stage to swing around the pole, a bare sentence or two later.

JD? All that copy for 50 years, and we get nuthin'... The ESIs' unofficial position on his passing is that we think he would have made a lousy blogger. Make of this what you will.

The Best Group Blog? It's not us

Best group blog? Please, we're not even close. For my money it's the gang over at the OC Transpo Community Livejournal. How can we compete with posts like this?

driver of bus #5040. #7 ST Laurent @ 4:10pm
What is up with your driving! I am typing this as I am sitting in your bus on my Blackberry. This is a Hybryde bus and you are driving like it was a standard and you are poping the clutch! Everyone is having a hard time staying in their seats let alone stand in the bus! What gives? I know some buses are smoother then others but this takes the cake!!

Hoot, Hoot Tiana

Dear Tiana,

We should have tea sometime. I have the tea pot (made by hand by the Erratic Genius), and you have the cup.

Cheers,

Woodsy

I might take the week off

Because em on Knitting is My Boyfriend wrote a darn fine Google Poem.

A significant birthday

It is time again for us to to wish the Fifth Muse a happy birthday.

When we Irregulars set up shop back in the cybercretaceous era, we were all about the Muse - we even called her "ours" in a proprietary way, although she wrote compellingly about her life for, well, the whole Net. Frankly, it was a bit of a drama. But we felt engaged.

We also saw a need for comment and occasional nudges along the way, if she chose to accept them. We filled it in our fashion, which is mainly solid individually, enthusiastic certainly, but perhaps anarchic collectively. (And no, ma'am, it was never entirely about finding a date, although that issue figured prominently for you. I digress. Again. Imagine that...)

The Muse (wisely, we think, although we miss her) withdrew from semi-public anonymity to live life rather than blog about it. We're no longer party to her thoughts, but hope that she's still keeping a journal. Someplace quite private would be best.

Oh, we still hear occasional snippets about her life. She's around. But following her lead, we don't pry, and these days we chance only upon random items. Let us just say that she, like most people, has had good times, bad ones, and a triumph or two to which we have raised quiet glasses.

The Elgin Street Irregulars have obviously moved on too. We continue, likely less impassioned without her. The first great fling is always the most memorable... But we wish her well, and hope she has a decent date now and again. Happy Birthday, Muse!

A Woody for You

Dear Zoom and GC,

The first one of you to contact me and offer me a bribe gets to know the secret location of this temporarily parked* Woody.

It's a Grand Slam just waiting to happen!

*It's for sale - only $4900

Fish Tale

A few weeks ago, when I expressed my pleasure at Bob's series, nasty loos, he suggested that I photograph the fancy ones.

...mabye you can start a tradition of photog'ing fancy loos...

I have followed his suggestion.

Advertising in a toilet - fancy and clever! And, if you don't like the product being promoted, you can feel doubly satisfied at using the loo.

Burlesque Beauty

Today, I am "making a tawdry burlesque of the blog" by writing about my cat, Magi.


Magi is bored and she is whiny. It seems that she wants:

• a play date with Clint Eastwood,
• (sex) toys like Bazel's,
• the kind of infamy that Duncan exudes,
• a quilt and mutual licking with Freya,
• a sugar daddy to cuddle with like Ti-gris has, and
• to be immortalized in one of Coyote's recipes poems.
  

Heart shaped world

On the eve of St. Valentine's Day, I am pleased that our inimitable Audrey continues her endless honeymoon. Her Top Ten Romantic Things list now stands at thirty items, and counting. She floats on a pink chiffon cloud wherever she goes, stylishly pink-clad feet barely touching the ground. I rather picture her wearing heart-shaped pink sunglasses on her (yes...) romantic trip to Jamaica. It suits her.

However, we coyotes' glowing yellow eyes see things that are not quite so uniformly tickety-boo with others. XUP may be pro - hard to tell, because she ain't dishing much personal - but there's a twist of asperity. Jo's buy-in seemed at one point to be coming and going in (dishwasher) cycles. Megan is bucketing along between righteous sistah militancy and feeling a little more ummn, disheartened. J is flirting with what Jo labels as one of the oldest standard guy "Plan B" lines going.

Now, we coyotes draw our semimythical mojo from cultures considered by some to be based on superstition, or magical thinking. So, we are wont to wonder if it may not have something to do with Valentine's Day chasing hot on the heels of Friday the 13th. What with that, and the big event residing not unadjacent to the scientifically-calculated crappiest day of the year, ya gotta ask if the vibes ain't clashing.

If it weren't for the mountains of chocolate that would go begging, I'd wonder if the whole day was worth... huh.

Woodsy just emailed me a SweeTart. Awww...! I know she hands 'em out to everybody like candy, but suddenly I feel, like, all sweet and warm and smooshy. Maybe even like taking another pre-diabetic look at Zoom's nuzzling kitties and fawns. Must be the tiny perfect sugar hit. Anyway, when that wears off, there's good eatin' at Zoom's blog...

Nod to Bob

Bob, from tap my glass and nod my chin, who is one of Aggie's crushes, has started a series photographing nasty loos. This series appeals to me, and Aggie claims that she is loving this nasty loo series so far.

Friday night, I stepped into the washroom stall at a local Indian restaurant, and I was surprised to see an old dented pewter kettle at the foot of the toilet. I crossed my legs for a minute more, and in Bob's honour I took a picture.

Was I supposed to use the kettle water to rinse my delicate parts?

RNDP 22: Could Television be the Answer?

Pearl Jam fan, Raino, blogged a list of pick-up lines this week. The lines do not yet appear to have been field-tested, but they show promise. Here are several:

5) Is there a mirror in yer pants? cuz I can see myself in em.

6) If you was a tree & I was a Squirrel, I'd store my nuts in yer hole.

7) You might not be the best lookin girl here, but beauty's only a light switch away.

8) I know I'm not no Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make yer bed-rock.

Like I said, they show promise. But, at more than 2 years old, they're not new, and no matter how effective, potentially offensive pickup lines are not revolutionary. So while they could be a component of the Revolutionary New Dating Paradigm (RNDP), they're not going to be the foundation.

This may not be the case for the recommendations coming from two young university researchers, Magpie and Jake. While they probably consider themselves to be more scholars of hooking up than of dating, I believe they have stumbled on something significant. As Magpie reports, the secret is: Television.

In What to Take to University (to Get Laid at University), Jake tells students going off to live in a university residence, "All you need is downloaded TV, a heavy duvet and a mattress topper."

It is of course assumed that all university students have laptops that will play the downloaded TV shows. The mattress topper makes the standard dormitory bed soft and comfortable, the duvet makes for a cozy bed that a person wouldn't want to leave.

In What to Take to University (to Get Laid at University) II, Jake suggests an Ikea mood-setting lamp, but I suspect that's just icing on the cake.

I don't believe Magpie and Jake are even on the same continent, but Magpie is completely on board with the television paradigm. In How to Get Laid (an Introduction), she takes Jake's work further and advises on what to expect from a man based on the show he invites his prospects to see.

Battlestar Galactica Guy: If he likes BSG, he's a keeper. I can't imagine hooking up to BSG (okay, I've done it) because it's just so fuckingintenseandgoodzomfg!!!!! that I'd get distracted. But I supposed a guy who likes BSG is Godly, so do him, do him fast.

Kudoes to both of these young scholars. They are out there researching these important topics and doing their own fieldwork. Magpie has even developed a set of instructions for women who would like to watch television shows with a man without sex taking place. ("1. Do NOT go under the blankets.")

Here is Jake's summary:

So to recap, have a comfy bed, and invite people over to watch TV/movies. At the very least how she behaves, whether she agrees to get under the covers/lie next to you etc, is a litmus test for what chances there are of anything else happening, and at the luckiest the spooning will lead to much more and you'll end up having to wash those sheets even sooner than you expected!

Dream Interpretation Request #2

I need help to interpret another one of my dreams.

Zoom, I was in the back of a police car with a hottie policeman, and he said that we had to make out. I thought, Well, he's a policeman, I have to listen to what he says.

Megan, when pants removal ensued, I realized he was actually a policewoman with a derriere to rival Kim Bassinger's tooshie.

What does it all mean?

The New Year Lift

Harmony and I were discussing what to wear to the New Year's Eve party that we will be attending together.

Dwarfie, who overheard us, responded with, "Something that shows leg and cleavage." The Chair seconded Dwarfie's comment with a naughty chuckle and an affirmative shake of the head.

"Well, my dress is short and low cut," I responded, "but I don't know how to make my girls peek over the balcony..."

"The right bra will do the trick," Harmony informed me.

Harmony was correct. At a trendy brassiere shop in the Rideau Centre, a young salesperson, knowledgeable in the art of cleavage, explained to me that it was all about memory foam (I thought she said mammary foam).

"No one comes about it naturally and size is not important," she reassured me as she eyed my bosom. She handed me two different bras, and I was impressed to see that the bras featured over one inch of foam at the base and sides of the cups.

"All the better to push things up," she chirped encouragingly.

*I wont' show my bra versus bra-less look - that's already been done in quite the lovely way by one of the ESI's favourite bloggers.

Crowing Cock

I call Dwarfie for advice and he answers with his usual crusty this better be important grunt for a salutation.

"Hi, Dwarfie, I'm confused about something. Do you have a minute?"

"What's up, Toots?"

"I was reading Tiana's blog, and for the second time she mentions that her son has a giant cock. I can't explain it, but it bothers me to read that."

"That's because a cock is something you have sex with..."

"That's it," I respond relieved, "and on a baby..."

"You'd call it something else."

Tank Top Tuesday

Mourning the Poll Results - Oatmeal is Losing

Not so Zen Thoughts

I have not quite perfected clearing my mind of all thoughts during yoga.

For example, tonight, while I was listening to my yoga teacher's soothing instructions, I was also discreetly trying to get a glimpse of the enticing tattoo on her rump.

As I continued posing, I remembered that I should book a series of massages with her. She is also my massage therapist.

At that thought, and as I was trying to stay balanced in a I Have Fire Shooting Out of My Middle Finger She Woman Man Hater Warrior pose, I let out a whiny Uji breath as I realized, with envy in my heart, that there are certain things that have happened to my beloved fellow bloggers that just never happen to me.

I have never,

1. Gotten to second base with my massage therapist,
2. Won anything of any significant value,
3. Scored free tickets to see someone I love perform, or
4. Made love to someone on the desk of a Member of Parliament.
5. There is no fifth thing, but I wish there was.
   

.

ESI Motif Roundup

Jet Packs: 25 Nov 2008 - Eric Scott took 21 seconds to cross Colorado's 335 metre wide Royal Gorge at 120 km-h. [Google News]

Ways to make money that we've been scooped on: Unconventional Naked Calendars

• Red Hat Ladies,
• Women who ski with rifles,
  
• Clowns,
• Australian Paramedics,
  
• Women of Curling,
  
• Oxford Students,
• Builders,
• Bus Drivers, but
• Why it's maybe good we didn't try this.

Rural Predators:

• In the event you have a livestock loss due to one or more of the noted predators, claims for compensation can be made to the City of Ottawa.
• CBC: Ontario's most dangerous city for deer-vehicle collisions should make it legal to hunt deer with a bow within city limits, a local hunter says.

Dating:

• Someone else is researching Friends with Benefits, so I don't have to.

Metablogging:

• The New York Times has picked up on Slow Blogging:
  

  Ms. Ganley, who recently left her job as a writing instructor at Middlebury College, compares slow blogging to meditation. It’s “being quiet for a moment before you write,” she said, “and not having what you write be the first thing that comes out of your head.”

• And the Slow Blog Manifesto:
  

  4. Slow Blogging is a willingness to remain silent amid the daily outrages and ecstasies that fill nothing more than single moments in time, switching between banality, crushing heartbreak and end-of-the-world psychotic glee in the mere space between headlines. The thing you wished you said in the moment last week can be said next month, or next year, and you’ll only look all the smarter.

• Did you know there is a formal mechanism for grading blog posts? It's Ryan Bretag's Blogging Rubric.
• New mom, Tiana blogged something this week that I have no doubt is true in every sense, but I still think she's going to get in trouble for it:
  

  It's been just over 5 months and so far, I feel like I'm doing not only a good job, but a fantastic job

Dysfunction and Politics:

• Carleton University Students Association, the Town of Caledon, and Stephen Harper demonstrate that misguided decisions happen at every level of politics.

Avoiding awkward moments

I've heard a rumour that Woodsy might be running into some Ottawa bloggers this weekend. Since bloggers are inquisitive and yet shy at the same time, I have prepared this list of questions they should avoid with each other to prevent awkwardness.

• A&J at Please pick up your socks: "Did you have any trouble finding a parking spot?"
• Alison at Party of 3: "Would you say this is as tasty as frozen yogourt?"
• From Nat's Brain: Are those your original lips?
• Guillermo at Los Zielgler: "How do you like Canadian wildlife? Don't you think squirrels are adorable?"
• Hella Stella - No questions are off limits with Stella. Ask what she's bought at her favourite store lately.
• Jobthingy's Jungle: "Have you used your cell phone for something other than phoning lately?"
• Jo Stockton at Also a Talker: "Does your gynecologist still think you're a good woman?"
• Lynn at Diary of a Turtlehead: "Is it true you got silicone cups for your birthday"
• Maven of Stay at Home Mayhem: "Do you think a person who calls herself a social blogger might actually be a binging blogger in denial?"
• Meanie at Mean old Mommy: "Would you like a Dorito?"
• Newsguy Bob: "Could you pass the salt?"
• Raino MOT: "Have you found anywhere in Ottawa to get naked with a little oriental girl?"
• Robin at Watawa Life: "Have you snuggled with Clint Eastwood today?"
• Sky Girl: "Is your daughter still obsessed with the stove timer?"
• Skylark at Logan - The DandeLion King: "Still sleeping with your son?"
• Woodsy Coloured Marbles (or here): "What would you wear under that top?"
• XUP: "Would you like a drive home?"
• Zoom at Knitnut: "Did anyone pee in your bed last night?"

Remember, those are all questions to avoid!