The incomparable comedy duo of Lester and the Infidel, known for their inability to understand each others' jokes, will be performing for one night only this Indigenous People's Day.
Starting noonish in that vaunted burrito bistro, Pancho Villa's, the pair will wend their way through the City, hitting up various public houses and other drinking establishments, until they stumble drunkenly into the East Bay, from whence Lester (me) will head to work, and the Infidel (Hank) will continue his Bay Area tour.
Those of you interested in a night of drunken debauchery are welcome to witness the duo in action. Admission is free. Just don't expect to understand anything. We don't.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Featuring a Special Guest
It seems, my dear and loyal readers, that the "Synergy My Ass!" postings have struck a nerve. I have recently received more submissions from those poor souls held captive in meetings with people who are supposed to be running things but who are more adept at mangling things. To wit:
From Rachael: "Careerpathing." Yes, that's right. You no longer move down a career path; you now "careerpath." Bon voyage, loser.
And from my younger brother, whom some of you know as "Daniel," we have a special guest posting:
"#1. On-boarding. This is defined in Webster's Dictionary for Assholes as "the process of getting a new employee on-board." Not referring to a boat or train, but referring to "on-board" with the employer. This used to be referred to as "getting started," "training," or "introduction." These all proved to be too mundane for the modern business person, as is evident in the following excerpt from a real employee manual:
"Here at Assholes, Inc. our new employees get started with a six month training period where they learn the policies, processes and culture of Assholes, Inc. and are introduced to other employees. Assholes, Inc. - Quality Assholes Since 1936
Using the term "onboarding" really turns an old, stodgy sentence into a bleeding-edge, innovative, action-plan:
"Here at Assholes, Inc. our new employees go through a six month onboarding process where they are repeatedly onboarded...until it hurts."
Seriously, Google "onboarding." You'll be revolted.
#2. Touch-Point. I believe this is some sort of sexual harassment violation. I would feel dirty just saying it in front of a group of people. But, according to the presenter today, our company's application process for an hourly employee has 36 touch-points. Disgusting."
Please, dear readers, stand with me against such absurdities! We must mock our tormentors until they desist! Or until our spirits are crushed, and we have no choice but to succumb to the careerpathing and onboarding they are so quick to inflict.
Make it stop.
From Rachael: "Careerpathing." Yes, that's right. You no longer move down a career path; you now "careerpath." Bon voyage, loser.
And from my younger brother, whom some of you know as "Daniel," we have a special guest posting:
"#1. On-boarding. This is defined in Webster's Dictionary for Assholes as "the process of getting a new employee on-board." Not referring to a boat or train, but referring to "on-board" with the employer. This used to be referred to as "getting started," "training," or "introduction." These all proved to be too mundane for the modern business person, as is evident in the following excerpt from a real employee manual:
"Here at Assholes, Inc. our new employees get started with a six month training period where they learn the policies, processes and culture of Assholes, Inc. and are introduced to other employees. Assholes, Inc. - Quality Assholes Since 1936
Using the term "onboarding" really turns an old, stodgy sentence into a bleeding-edge, innovative, action-plan:
"Here at Assholes, Inc. our new employees go through a six month onboarding process where they are repeatedly onboarded...until it hurts."
Seriously, Google "onboarding." You'll be revolted.
#2. Touch-Point. I believe this is some sort of sexual harassment violation. I would feel dirty just saying it in front of a group of people. But, according to the presenter today, our company's application process for an hourly employee has 36 touch-points. Disgusting."
Please, dear readers, stand with me against such absurdities! We must mock our tormentors until they desist! Or until our spirits are crushed, and we have no choice but to succumb to the careerpathing and onboarding they are so quick to inflict.
Make it stop.
Monday, July 21, 2008
NaNoWriMo, Here I Come!
Yup. I've done it. I've gone and signed up for National Novel Writing Month. For those of you not in the novel-writing know, National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is a novel-writing challenge that takes place each November. For the past 10 years or so, thousands of folks from around the world have signed up to write 50,000 words (each) in 30 days. Crazy? Maybe. Fun? Probably not.
Every year since I learned about it (sometime in the early 2000's -- 2001, let's say), I've been meaning to sign up. But writing a 50,000-word novel in 30 days is a daunting task, so every year since I learned about it, I've chickened out. Or totally forgotten.
This year is different. This year, I'm not afraid. This year, I'm going to write that damn novel, even if it is nothing but a plotless conglomeration of clichés, wooden characters and purple prose.
My plan is to transition directly from NaNoWriMo in November to NaNoEdMo (National Novel Editing Month) in December. As far as I know, NaNoEdMo doesn't exist, but if I don't set an editing deadline for myself, my shiny new 50,000-word novel will never be fit for humans to behold.
So there. I've told you all how I'm going to be spending my November and December, and you, my faithful and courageous readers, are welcome to join me in this endeavor, or at least to remind me, come November, that I'm supposed to be writing a novel.
Look out, literati!
Every year since I learned about it (sometime in the early 2000's -- 2001, let's say), I've been meaning to sign up. But writing a 50,000-word novel in 30 days is a daunting task, so every year since I learned about it, I've chickened out. Or totally forgotten.
This year is different. This year, I'm not afraid. This year, I'm going to write that damn novel, even if it is nothing but a plotless conglomeration of clichés, wooden characters and purple prose.
My plan is to transition directly from NaNoWriMo in November to NaNoEdMo (National Novel Editing Month) in December. As far as I know, NaNoEdMo doesn't exist, but if I don't set an editing deadline for myself, my shiny new 50,000-word novel will never be fit for humans to behold.
So there. I've told you all how I'm going to be spending my November and December, and you, my faithful and courageous readers, are welcome to join me in this endeavor, or at least to remind me, come November, that I'm supposed to be writing a novel.
Look out, literati!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Belt Buckle Bonanza
April 6, 2008. That fateful day, the day after my birthday, a day spent in pursuit of sobriety, and -- because it was San Francisco -- parking, was the day I saw, tucked in a corner of a glass case in a shoe store on Haight, that which I had sought for so many years -- a cowboy-sized Virgin of Guadalupe belt buckle.
Behold the glory.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Synergy my ass! The Sequel
We return to the subject so dear to so many – word usage.
As exhibit No. 1 – and the only exhibit I’ve got for you today – I give you this:
“It allows us to aggregate when we strategize … to make it more conveyable … We would rather incent than direct.”
Yeah, you read that right. No, I have no idea what it means. Sadly, it was taken from real life. To quote Lewis Carroll, “Such is human perversity.” He should know.
So when we canvassed this issue before, I asked for submissions, for your suggestions of items to add to the list of ways we don’t want to use words and words we don’t want to use. You, my fair readers, stepped up to the challenge. Your submissions were inspired, your disdain of the bastardization of the language, admirable. I am proud to call you my readers.
Here, then, are your suggestions. Many will see and fear.
From Hank:
Workshop, as a verb. Remember the good old days when a workshop was a place where people built things, generally out of wood? Those days are gone, and crying won’t bring them back.
Task, as a verb. You know what? It’s not. I repeat, “task” IS NOT a verb. It’s a noun. You perform a task. So stop “tasking” people with shit and go do it yourself.
Incentivize. Enough already! Just knock it off! Have you no shame?
From Shelly and Steve:
Unpack, in the metaphorical sense. This is used by “tools,” in the butthead sense. For example, “Let’s unpack that statement.” Let’s not. The only thing anyone should be unpacking is luggage. If you haven’t just come back from vacation, then stop it. Stop it now.
At the end of the day: Yes this is a phrase and so is the next one, but that doesn’t make them any less odious. I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll do “at the end of the day.” “At the end of the day,” I’m going home so I don’t have to listen to you, jackass.
It is what it is: Oh really? Thanks. And just how much carbon dioxide did you spew into the air with that inanity? Can we cap and trade credits on the greenhouse gases coming from your mouth?
From Rachael:
Functionality. What?! I mean, really – what?!
From me:
Win-Win. Loser-loser.
Oh good readers, there are so many more. So, so many. I have neither the time nor the will to address this further. I will not admit defeat; I will continue the fight, but the jargon is closing in all around me. It’s getting dark … and hard to breathe …
I leave you with this parting thought:
Under way is 2 DAMN WORDS!
Stay tuned for an update on the Butt Game.
As exhibit No. 1 – and the only exhibit I’ve got for you today – I give you this:
“It allows us to aggregate when we strategize … to make it more conveyable … We would rather incent than direct.”
Yeah, you read that right. No, I have no idea what it means. Sadly, it was taken from real life. To quote Lewis Carroll, “Such is human perversity.” He should know.
So when we canvassed this issue before, I asked for submissions, for your suggestions of items to add to the list of ways we don’t want to use words and words we don’t want to use. You, my fair readers, stepped up to the challenge. Your submissions were inspired, your disdain of the bastardization of the language, admirable. I am proud to call you my readers.
Here, then, are your suggestions. Many will see and fear.
From Hank:
Workshop, as a verb. Remember the good old days when a workshop was a place where people built things, generally out of wood? Those days are gone, and crying won’t bring them back.
Task, as a verb. You know what? It’s not. I repeat, “task” IS NOT a verb. It’s a noun. You perform a task. So stop “tasking” people with shit and go do it yourself.
Incentivize. Enough already! Just knock it off! Have you no shame?
From Shelly and Steve:
Unpack, in the metaphorical sense. This is used by “tools,” in the butthead sense. For example, “Let’s unpack that statement.” Let’s not. The only thing anyone should be unpacking is luggage. If you haven’t just come back from vacation, then stop it. Stop it now.
At the end of the day: Yes this is a phrase and so is the next one, but that doesn’t make them any less odious. I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll do “at the end of the day.” “At the end of the day,” I’m going home so I don’t have to listen to you, jackass.
It is what it is: Oh really? Thanks. And just how much carbon dioxide did you spew into the air with that inanity? Can we cap and trade credits on the greenhouse gases coming from your mouth?
From Rachael:
Functionality. What?! I mean, really – what?!
From me:
Win-Win. Loser-loser.
Oh good readers, there are so many more. So, so many. I have neither the time nor the will to address this further. I will not admit defeat; I will continue the fight, but the jargon is closing in all around me. It’s getting dark … and hard to breathe …
I leave you with this parting thought:
Under way is 2 DAMN WORDS!
Stay tuned for an update on the Butt Game.
Friday, March 28, 2008
We WILL Rock You, Whether You Like it or Not
So I bought myself a guitar. A brand new, blue guitar that cost me a penny on eBay (plus $33.14 in shipping). It arrived yesterday, and for my penny, I not only got my brand new blue guitar with all six strings, but I also got a cloth carrying case, six more strings (which came in handy later when I snapped one), a pitch pipe, a strap, and – are you ready for this? – a pick. I am soooo ready to rock.
Upon opening the package for “Mama’s Bitar,” my trusty sidekick immediately began demanding her own pink bitar, so we headed to Toys R Us, which actually had one, complete with rhinestones. However, as it cost more than my blue guitar, which did not come with rhinestones I might add, we (read: I) opted to buy a “lap harp,” which is a contraption not unlike a dulcimer, but played with a large pick, and significantly less sonorous. I told my sidekick it was a lap guitar, and I think she’s buying it.
I tuned the lap harp with my new pitch pipe, and it stayed tuned for all of 30 seconds. Then I tuned my guitar with my new pitch pipe, and it stayed tuned for about 30 seconds. I’m toying with the idea of re-tuning both instruments, but in the meantime, the sidekick and I have been engaged in the production of a cacophony capable of raising the dead. Wanna come over? I believe I have a harmonica somewhere you could play.
Upon opening the package for “Mama’s Bitar,” my trusty sidekick immediately began demanding her own pink bitar, so we headed to Toys R Us, which actually had one, complete with rhinestones. However, as it cost more than my blue guitar, which did not come with rhinestones I might add, we (read: I) opted to buy a “lap harp,” which is a contraption not unlike a dulcimer, but played with a large pick, and significantly less sonorous. I told my sidekick it was a lap guitar, and I think she’s buying it.
I tuned the lap harp with my new pitch pipe, and it stayed tuned for all of 30 seconds. Then I tuned my guitar with my new pitch pipe, and it stayed tuned for about 30 seconds. I’m toying with the idea of re-tuning both instruments, but in the meantime, the sidekick and I have been engaged in the production of a cacophony capable of raising the dead. Wanna come over? I believe I have a harmonica somewhere you could play.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Butt Like Me
Too much butt space is a breeding ground for personality cancer.
I know, I know, it’s a bold statement, but I stand by it, and I have the evidence to back it up.
While the study of the personality-butt relationship is still in its infancy, the general scientific consensus is that people with flat butts have serious personality flaws. The reason is simple: the butt is the repository of key personality traits necessary to function successfully in the world, and those with less storage space suffer. Of course, too much butt room can be detrimental, as we’ll discuss later.
Years of experience and observation have led me to the personality-butt conclusion. For example, I knew one young woman who looked like her legs went directly into her lower back and who was very rude to people not in her inner circle. Another such young woman was ditzy and had no work ethic. Coincidence? I think not.
On the other hand, as Hank, my crusading reporter friend in the eastlands, (whom you know as the founder of PlooPeRS) points out, Serena Williams must have an outstanding personality. The evidence bears this out – her success means she works hard, is determined and confident – all good traits, all butt-related.
Hank also pointed out that this theory has a serious weakness, and that is the disconnect between the “expanding American ass and the growing American jerkiness.”
However, one must recognize the limits of the personality-butt relationship. It doesn’t necessarily follow that the bigger the butt, the better the personality.
One can only have so much of the good butt traits, and if one’s butt gets too big, the extra space must be filled by something – and that usually turns out to be good butt traits that have mutated into something evil, or at the very least, obnoxious.
As an example, let’s take a person with the good butt trait of confidence. Say that person’s butt grows, creating extra room -- a vacuum, if you will. Because nature abhors a butt vacuum, arrogance can move in and take up the extra space. As a bad butt trait, it will attach itself to the confidence and start its slow takeover. This advances steadily, becoming the personality cancer that is killing Americans’ likability worldwide. (This, of course, is based on the assumption that such likability ever existed.)
See? As I have incontrovertibly proven, the butt is where it all begins, and therefore, as a loyal American who cares about how you are received by others and how well you fit into chairs, I’m issuing this warning to you all right now:
Protect your personality. Protect your butt!
The U.S. Centers for Disease Control will be launching an educational campaign soon, so you’ll be hearing more about the personality-butt relationship.
As I discussed my theory with Hank, we began to rename major literary works to include the word “Butt” in the titles. Here’s what we came up with. You should play along -- it’s fun!
From Hank:
Invisible Butt
Let Us Now Praise Famous Butts
Silent Butt
There Will Be Butt
Butt!
Unsafe at any Butt
Das Butt
All Quiet on the Western Butt
In Search of Lost Butt
The Old Man and the Butt
The Butts of Wrath
The Crying of Butt 49
Butt and Punishment
The Quiet Butt
One Hundred Butts of Solitude
A Butt in August
A Good Butt is Hard to Find
A Farewell to Butt
Remains of the Butt
A Room with a Butt
-- or –
A Butt with a View
Of Human Butt
A Tale of Two Butts
Butt Expectations
Their Eyes Were Watching Butt
Butts from the Underground
A Butt Without Qualities
From me:
Butt in the Time of Cholera
All the King’s Butts
Of Mice and Butts
The Good Butt
The Catcher in the Butt
One Butt in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
War and Butt
For Whom the Butt Tolls
Moby Butt
2001: A Butt Odyssey
The Art of Butt
A Butt Grows in Brooklyn
Remembrance of Butts Past
The Butt Musketeers
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Butt
Butt of Darkness
Inherit the Butt
Any suggestions? Send them in!
I know, I know, it’s a bold statement, but I stand by it, and I have the evidence to back it up.
While the study of the personality-butt relationship is still in its infancy, the general scientific consensus is that people with flat butts have serious personality flaws. The reason is simple: the butt is the repository of key personality traits necessary to function successfully in the world, and those with less storage space suffer. Of course, too much butt room can be detrimental, as we’ll discuss later.
Years of experience and observation have led me to the personality-butt conclusion. For example, I knew one young woman who looked like her legs went directly into her lower back and who was very rude to people not in her inner circle. Another such young woman was ditzy and had no work ethic. Coincidence? I think not.
On the other hand, as Hank, my crusading reporter friend in the eastlands, (whom you know as the founder of PlooPeRS) points out, Serena Williams must have an outstanding personality. The evidence bears this out – her success means she works hard, is determined and confident – all good traits, all butt-related.
Hank also pointed out that this theory has a serious weakness, and that is the disconnect between the “expanding American ass and the growing American jerkiness.”
However, one must recognize the limits of the personality-butt relationship. It doesn’t necessarily follow that the bigger the butt, the better the personality.
One can only have so much of the good butt traits, and if one’s butt gets too big, the extra space must be filled by something – and that usually turns out to be good butt traits that have mutated into something evil, or at the very least, obnoxious.
As an example, let’s take a person with the good butt trait of confidence. Say that person’s butt grows, creating extra room -- a vacuum, if you will. Because nature abhors a butt vacuum, arrogance can move in and take up the extra space. As a bad butt trait, it will attach itself to the confidence and start its slow takeover. This advances steadily, becoming the personality cancer that is killing Americans’ likability worldwide. (This, of course, is based on the assumption that such likability ever existed.)
See? As I have incontrovertibly proven, the butt is where it all begins, and therefore, as a loyal American who cares about how you are received by others and how well you fit into chairs, I’m issuing this warning to you all right now:
Protect your personality. Protect your butt!
The U.S. Centers for Disease Control will be launching an educational campaign soon, so you’ll be hearing more about the personality-butt relationship.
As I discussed my theory with Hank, we began to rename major literary works to include the word “Butt” in the titles. Here’s what we came up with. You should play along -- it’s fun!
From Hank:
Invisible Butt
Let Us Now Praise Famous Butts
Silent Butt
There Will Be Butt
Butt!
Unsafe at any Butt
Das Butt
All Quiet on the Western Butt
In Search of Lost Butt
The Old Man and the Butt
The Butts of Wrath
The Crying of Butt 49
Butt and Punishment
The Quiet Butt
One Hundred Butts of Solitude
A Butt in August
A Good Butt is Hard to Find
A Farewell to Butt
Remains of the Butt
A Room with a Butt
-- or –
A Butt with a View
Of Human Butt
A Tale of Two Butts
Butt Expectations
Their Eyes Were Watching Butt
Butts from the Underground
A Butt Without Qualities
From me:
Butt in the Time of Cholera
All the King’s Butts
Of Mice and Butts
The Good Butt
The Catcher in the Butt
One Butt in the Life of Ivan Denisovich
War and Butt
For Whom the Butt Tolls
Moby Butt
2001: A Butt Odyssey
The Art of Butt
A Butt Grows in Brooklyn
Remembrance of Butts Past
The Butt Musketeers
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Butt
Butt of Darkness
Inherit the Butt
Any suggestions? Send them in!
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Gourmet Quique
As those of you who have ever met me can attest, I like to eat. A lot.
That is, I like very much to eat, and I like to eat very much.
I like to eat different types of food and will give just about anything a try. I have knowingly eaten tongue (yum), pig's ear (yuck), snails and lung (in haggis). I have likely consumed an inordinate number of insects unwittingly and God only knows what parasites and bacteria, as well as quail sushi (very bad idea). I have also tried oysters, whose reputation as an aphrodisiac is inexplicable given their propensity to induce violent gagging. That's not hot.
Having established my culinary adventurousness, I have actually encountered a recipe I will not try. I will share it with you, my loyal readers.
This recipe was given by a friend we'll call Quique, a participant in my first Regular Poker Game, to be held biweekly, if biweekly means every two weeks.
Anyway, Quique's aunt taught him this recipe. I will describe it to you, approximating as closely as I can the way Quique shared it:
"First, you get macaroni, and you put it in a pot with some water, and you do all the magic stuff to get it all cooked. (That's boiling - Pancha.)
Then you get ketchup and put it on the macaroni and mix it up. It's really good."
No, no, I can't imagine that it is.
Quique was teased mercilessly for this, as is right and proper. I hope we didn't hurt his feelings as he's really, really nice. But he should definitely stay away from the kitchen.
In case you're wondering, I lost my money. Perhaps I should stay away from poker.
I am also hereby issuing an open invitation to all readers of this interactive blog to come on down and play in the next Regular Poker Game. Let me know if you're interested, and if you're lucky, maybe Quique will bring some Mac 'n' Ketchup.
P.
That is, I like very much to eat, and I like to eat very much.
I like to eat different types of food and will give just about anything a try. I have knowingly eaten tongue (yum), pig's ear (yuck), snails and lung (in haggis). I have likely consumed an inordinate number of insects unwittingly and God only knows what parasites and bacteria, as well as quail sushi (very bad idea). I have also tried oysters, whose reputation as an aphrodisiac is inexplicable given their propensity to induce violent gagging. That's not hot.
Having established my culinary adventurousness, I have actually encountered a recipe I will not try. I will share it with you, my loyal readers.
This recipe was given by a friend we'll call Quique, a participant in my first Regular Poker Game, to be held biweekly, if biweekly means every two weeks.
Anyway, Quique's aunt taught him this recipe. I will describe it to you, approximating as closely as I can the way Quique shared it:
"First, you get macaroni, and you put it in a pot with some water, and you do all the magic stuff to get it all cooked. (That's boiling - Pancha.)
Then you get ketchup and put it on the macaroni and mix it up. It's really good."
No, no, I can't imagine that it is.
Quique was teased mercilessly for this, as is right and proper. I hope we didn't hurt his feelings as he's really, really nice. But he should definitely stay away from the kitchen.
In case you're wondering, I lost my money. Perhaps I should stay away from poker.
I am also hereby issuing an open invitation to all readers of this interactive blog to come on down and play in the next Regular Poker Game. Let me know if you're interested, and if you're lucky, maybe Quique will bring some Mac 'n' Ketchup.
P.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Aries v. Astrologer
As my trusty sidekick was off making the world safe for democracy, and my valiant hound was off making my parents’ back yard safe from an impending squirrel invasion, I was off with a friend, “Paul” (his real name), getting accosted by a drunken astrologer in that venerable San Francisco institution, the Gold Dust Lounge.
Drunken Astrologer seemed to feel that his first duty to humanity was to keep the world safe from the peaceful enjoyment of an after-work beer. However, as neither “Paul” nor I had worked that day, and as we were both determined to enjoy a beer at any cost, Drunken Astrologer was only marginally successful.
Anyway, upon learning I was both a mother and an Aries, Drunken Astrologer’s face fell.
“Oh,” he said, visibly disappointed, but struggling heroically to smile and be nice. “You’re not very nurturing.”
Oh yeah?! Nurture this, f---er!
Wait, that wasn’t a particularly motherly response, was it?
Hm. I may have to work on that. Also, I don’t believe that New Age-y types should drink – they get mean.
On another note, I have received some submissions from loyal readers (you know who you are) to enhance our list of jargon to avoid. I’m going to leave the submission window open a little longer so those of you who have not contributed (we all know who you are) can have the opportunity to be included – honored, really – on this, your favorite blog.
Later beautiful people.
P.
Drunken Astrologer seemed to feel that his first duty to humanity was to keep the world safe from the peaceful enjoyment of an after-work beer. However, as neither “Paul” nor I had worked that day, and as we were both determined to enjoy a beer at any cost, Drunken Astrologer was only marginally successful.
Anyway, upon learning I was both a mother and an Aries, Drunken Astrologer’s face fell.
“Oh,” he said, visibly disappointed, but struggling heroically to smile and be nice. “You’re not very nurturing.”
Oh yeah?! Nurture this, f---er!
Wait, that wasn’t a particularly motherly response, was it?
Hm. I may have to work on that. Also, I don’t believe that New Age-y types should drink – they get mean.
On another note, I have received some submissions from loyal readers (you know who you are) to enhance our list of jargon to avoid. I’m going to leave the submission window open a little longer so those of you who have not contributed (we all know who you are) can have the opportunity to be included – honored, really – on this, your favorite blog.
Later beautiful people.
P.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Synergy my ass!
This is a rant against jargon, a manifesto against the bureaucratese and in-speak that obscures, excludes and confuses, and in the end leaves readers scratching their heads, feeling stupid and throwing up their hands in defeat, all while not actually saying anything.
Down with jargon, I say! Down with the tyranny of sentences like this one:
"Rather, it is an attempt to provide the energy necessary to create the synergy that will create the ultimate solution."
I'm sure you're asking the same question I did -- "What the fuck?!"
Exactly.
And the sad thing is, that sentence, and all these examples, have been taken from real life. People actually talk and write this way. Why? Why? I can't understand them, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Well, I say no more! I'm taking a stand. Let me just tell you what I will not do.
I will not "leverage" anything. Why? Because "leverage" is a noun. A person, place or thing. You can have leverage, but you damn well can't turn it into a verb. Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?
I will not "physically and programmatically co-locate" anything. I may put some things together, but there will be no "co-locating" on my watch, physical, programmatical or otherwise.
I will not employ "best practices" of any kind. You can't make me, so don't even try it.
I will not do anything "going forward." I may do things from now on. I may do things in the future. I may even do both. But I will not do them going forward.
And I most certainly will not be "proactive" about anything. Seriously, are you kidding me? For fuck's sake.
I know many of you out there in blogland feel my pain. (Just wait until I get started on cliches.) And so, I solicit your additions to this list. What won't you do? Let me know, and I'll post a follow-up, so we can commiserate.
Now, raise your hand if the word "Luddite" makes you think of someone with a giant ass.
Down with jargon, I say! Down with the tyranny of sentences like this one:
"Rather, it is an attempt to provide the energy necessary to create the synergy that will create the ultimate solution."
I'm sure you're asking the same question I did -- "What the fuck?!"
Exactly.
And the sad thing is, that sentence, and all these examples, have been taken from real life. People actually talk and write this way. Why? Why? I can't understand them, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. Well, I say no more! I'm taking a stand. Let me just tell you what I will not do.
I will not "leverage" anything. Why? Because "leverage" is a noun. A person, place or thing. You can have leverage, but you damn well can't turn it into a verb. Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?
I will not "physically and programmatically co-locate" anything. I may put some things together, but there will be no "co-locating" on my watch, physical, programmatical or otherwise.
I will not employ "best practices" of any kind. You can't make me, so don't even try it.
I will not do anything "going forward." I may do things from now on. I may do things in the future. I may even do both. But I will not do them going forward.
And I most certainly will not be "proactive" about anything. Seriously, are you kidding me? For fuck's sake.
I know many of you out there in blogland feel my pain. (Just wait until I get started on cliches.) And so, I solicit your additions to this list. What won't you do? Let me know, and I'll post a follow-up, so we can commiserate.
Now, raise your hand if the word "Luddite" makes you think of someone with a giant ass.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
PLooPeRS
Alright, I realize it's been a while since I posted last, and my 3-4 loyal fans are probably getting a little miffed at having to wait so long between insightful musings, but I have been hard at work relandscaping the American political, um, landscape. Mowing the American political lawn? Pruning the American political shrubbery? You get the idea.
I'm soooo busy at work that I was able to spend a good portion of my morning chatting over gmail with my crusading reporter friend in the eastlands. Said friend, whom we'll call Hank, was also soooo busy that he spent a good portion of his afternoon responding. ("Wait a minute," you say. "It was morning for you and afternoon for him? Wha-?" Ah, the miracles of the space-time continuum.)
Anyway, the chat turned to politics, as it is Ash Wednesday, the day after Super Fat Tuesday, and, well, long story short, there's a new political party in town. It's called PLooPeRS, and it's coming to a ballot box near you.
That's right, the Progressive Libertarian with a Personal Responsibility Streak (the "oo" and "e" are just for fun) was formed this very morning in a bicoastal effort to waste a little time. Our credo is best summed up by Hank, the Founding PLooPeRS Father and Head PLooPeRS Philosopher, who wrote:
"The borders should be relatively open, everyone should have healthcare, and gay people should get to do it and get married, but people who smoke cigarettes shouldn't get to sue when they get cancer."
We're taking back the White House in 2012, and if you're at all politically savvy or concerned about the upkeep of the American political garden, then you'll stand with us. Hank has dibs on president; I've secured the speechwriter job, and my valiant hound is the mascot, the Personal Responsibility Lab. She wears a cape. Also, Hank has appointed Bruce Springsteen the Secretary of Awesome.
So, really, you can't not join us. There's a dog in a cape, a Secretary of Awesome, and a haiku:
Responsible and
Libertarian am I
and Progressive too
What more could you ask for in a political party?
Judging from what's out there already, not much.
I'll be awaiting your contributions.
I'm soooo busy at work that I was able to spend a good portion of my morning chatting over gmail with my crusading reporter friend in the eastlands. Said friend, whom we'll call Hank, was also soooo busy that he spent a good portion of his afternoon responding. ("Wait a minute," you say. "It was morning for you and afternoon for him? Wha-?" Ah, the miracles of the space-time continuum.)
Anyway, the chat turned to politics, as it is Ash Wednesday, the day after Super Fat Tuesday, and, well, long story short, there's a new political party in town. It's called PLooPeRS, and it's coming to a ballot box near you.
That's right, the Progressive Libertarian with a Personal Responsibility Streak (the "oo" and "e" are just for fun) was formed this very morning in a bicoastal effort to waste a little time. Our credo is best summed up by Hank, the Founding PLooPeRS Father and Head PLooPeRS Philosopher, who wrote:
"The borders should be relatively open, everyone should have healthcare, and gay people should get to do it and get married, but people who smoke cigarettes shouldn't get to sue when they get cancer."
We're taking back the White House in 2012, and if you're at all politically savvy or concerned about the upkeep of the American political garden, then you'll stand with us. Hank has dibs on president; I've secured the speechwriter job, and my valiant hound is the mascot, the Personal Responsibility Lab. She wears a cape. Also, Hank has appointed Bruce Springsteen the Secretary of Awesome.
So, really, you can't not join us. There's a dog in a cape, a Secretary of Awesome, and a haiku:
Responsible and
Libertarian am I
and Progressive too
What more could you ask for in a political party?
Judging from what's out there already, not much.
I'll be awaiting your contributions.
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