Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").
got that wrong
fun social media stuff
Like my brownhouse:
the potential of new conversational forms
Tuesday, January 21 1997 I ran across Morgan Anarchy, Cecelia the Brazilian Girl and Vanna the Increasingly Gothic Punk Rock Girl as I headed to the Corner for coffee. I like to see them okay, but it seems too that mostly they just want me to do them favours. They have become prideless beggars for any and all things. This they proved to me as never before.
For one thing they were standing around on the Corner asking any and all people for spare change (something they never seriously do to me...too much like incest I suppose). To make a long story short, Morgan and the girls ended up drinking most of a bottle of Bourbon purchased mostly with my money and eating some pills they found lying around in my room back at my house. They were acting like such desperate drug addicts and I was just playing along to humour them without enjoying myself much. We watched the Simpsons and drank in my living room. Housemate John was there for the Simpsons too. As any and all my housemates went by my beggar friends harassed them for cigarettes like baby birds upon the arrival of the mother. Then, when some friends of the house came through, they were heckled for cigarettes not once, but both coming and leaving. That they'd already claimed not to smoke wasn't a concern. Such behaviour was embarassing, disgusting and uncouth. I would hate to be regarded by someone as nothing more than a source of free cigarettes. How can Morgan and the girls possibly imagine that there is anything charming or attractive in their behaviour? They lack subtley and they lack social grace. As obnoxious as Sara Poiron ever got, for example, she would have never behaved so patently gross.
There was something fascinating to me about how completely devoid of pride they had all become. But it didn't make me respect them.
Morgan and I also discussed how we're happier these days without Jessika around. Morgan has the capacity to show occasional repressed flashes of depth when he doesn't have his stupid act set on full throttle.
The pills and drink was making them sleepy. Vanna the Increasingly Gothic Punk Rock Girl was already asleep and Cecelia the Brazilian Girl passed into and out of oblivion. Eventually Morgan and Cecelia stumbled off towards the horrid crash pad. And I went to sleep.
At work I decided to check out Sam 'n Ellas Punk Rock Chat, which I do not frequently visit these days. But having checked the Atlas logs and such, it seemed to fit a stalkerly interest that could be easily satisfied.
So I logged on to Sam 'n Ellas under the alias of "zitfarm" and hung out until blixa appeared. I know blixa to be one of my old good friends who is now hundreds of miles away but now fully internet equipped.
I started out being rather random, alluding to parts of the movie Heathers with which we are both familiar. Especially the parts concerning the band known as Big Fun in the movie.
Then, for various reasons, the only language I could manage to speak was metaphor and poetry. It was perfect though, since that is the major language spoken by blixa in real life.
It was a profound experience. I'd never spoken with anyone I really know in a chat room. But I have to tell you, it was just like talking on the telephone. And in many ways it was better. You have a chance to edit your thoughts perfectly so that you can say lots of subtle things that are impossible or difficult to insert in speach in real time. And this chat thing is essentially real time. So what we're talking about here is a form of communication that is editable and real time. This was impossible before computers came to be. And with world wide high speed networks such conversations are possible between people anywhere. Furthermore, the conversation can be augmented with graphics, links to web pages and (in theory but not much in practice) sound and short video clips. The conversations in chat rooms are completely public and often occur one on one interlaced with other one on one conversations. Though there are group discussions at times. While blixa and I communicated a lovers quarrel between a DISRUPT and a tommy interlaced our conversation. They would keep telling each other "I LOVE YOU" all the same, and it was disgusting.
Gradually, as I dropped hints and such, blixa picked up on who I really am. There was something obviously guslike about my character, though. Blixa had picked up on this quickly and singled me out for mostly one on one conversation. It would have been rather difficult to diguise my identity in the chat even if I had tried harder. My vocabularly slips through, so do my little turns of phrase. And blixa is tuned in to such things.
Unfortunately, though, the chat thing devoured almost all of my night.
and now for an entirely different form of devouring...
today, courteousy of Altavista, I present a girlfriend being eaten!Today's featured girlfriend is...
Untitled 2, How about that for a web display of girlfriendaphagia? If you find this to be an image of profound and ideal beauty, why not share your opinion with this site's maintainer, George Daflidis - Kotsis?
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