All day, i’ve had people who profess to be extreme conservatives adding me on Twitter. The moment they realise i’m one of those anarchist monarchists, i’m freaking doomed. And of course, they’re all armed. *looks nervous* My Hello Kitty Kalashnikov was stopped at customs – some silly rule about automatic weapons being illegal here. I’m just gutted. I had the My Little Pony Carbine lined up too.
So i’ll make this short. *looks over shoulder* omg, more… on the bright side, they seem nice folk. They’re clean.
Well, one did say he liked confronting liberals. *gulps* Not when you’re allowed guns and i’ve only got this pair of shoes, mate.
A six-inch heel with a one inch platform can do damage, sure, but it’s not like a hail of bullets. And you guys get to have hollowpoints and all kinds of fun things. Nope, i’m going down into the bunker for a few hours at least.
Well, they can’t be laughing, can they? I mean, i’m assuming they haven’t looked. Do conservatives have senses of humour? My mother does, but she’s strange.
They all belong to groups on Twitter – or at least are chatting with a # in posts, so you see a guy say ” blah blah #tcot “- which means he wants his posts to go with the group convo named Top Conservatives On Twitter. Yep. This aint Kansas, Tonto. Well, I’m not really into musicals, but on second thought, i think that’s Toto.
Anyway, the other # reference they’re all using is #hhrs – which i gather is a radio show – and the producer is following me, which for a moment, i thought, cool!
And then i thought, hmm – who is Hugh Hewitt and what does he do on his Radio Show? Does he deconstruct anarchist monarchism? *cries* Noooooo…. wiki says“Hugh Hewitt (born February 22, 1956) is an American radio talk show host and author. An outspoken socially conservative, evangelical Christian, he comments on society, politics, and his perception of media bias in the United States.”
I knew coming out as Queen of Darkness was a bad move, but the voices outside my head insisted. (Outside my head = listen, inside my head = mostly ignore.) The thing is, everyone who goes on my Twitter list should collect their badge, and i’m not sure my latest Tweeple will appreciate it.
Didn’t they read the post where i scored so high on the Progressive meter i proved i really am an anarchist monarchist? Anyway, all my liberal friends are useless, none of them are armed. World domination, not that easy when you don’t have your My Little Pony carbine warming in your hot little hand.
Excuse me, i need to go make an apple pie.
N.B. this post’s attracting mother and baby spam mail… *scrolls back* omg, is it the mention of Hello Kitty™ and My Little Pony™? Oh – wait, it’s where i said my mother was a conservative with a sense of humour.Yes, that’s right, just discount all the Queen of Darkness-Antichrist stuff, and send me mother and baby spam. *shakes head* Why does nobody take me seriously?
Make yourself a coffee, i couldn’t keep this one short. Oh – and there’s a quite scary pic – no, not the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov – worse!
Okay? I’m officially freaked out – what’s with all the Christians? *looks around nervously for the nails, hammers, and waiting tree* Me talking about religion does not make me a Christian site. *sounds of Her Majesty choking on the morning cappuccino* Even my junk mail is coming from places like christiansingles.
Oh yeah, uber-freakout time – most of my morning additions to my Twitter Follower list are Christians. Am beginning to suspect that MLM people think if they say Christian you can’t see the bit that says ‘I have no morals. Make $$$ ask me how’ right next to it.
Oops, did i just show bigotry? Heavens above. Yes, i am prejudiced against several groups. Fucktards, idiots, religious fundamentalists, and MLM people. That’s bigotry for you – unreasoning dislike/hatred of a group. Wait, mine’s not unreasoning, ergo, it can’t be bigotry. *smiles* Oops, note to self: do not use Latin, it’s attracting the wrong crowd.
Anyway – this is some of my morning Tweeple haul “Husband , Father,Christian, Conservative Republican, Tech Geek”. (In my last post i admitted to being an anarchist communist Antichrist, from memory.) He got a message about the major typo in the header of his latest blog post, (how freaking Christian of me), as i do check, blogs and websites, before i add anyone now.
I didn’t follow him back – if i get a reply that seems to show a real human being as opposed to a bunch of nouns, I’ll consider it. Besides, i find it hard to believe if he’d even glanced at my blog he’d think to add me.
If we have nothing in common, (despite my wide range of expertise and interests) – and they don’t give good Tweets (and i don’t mean rehashed versions of what everyone else is Tweeting), then i don’t Follow back. “Internet Marketing Social Media Advertising Public Relations Strategy Search Engine Optimization.” Honestly – what is this dude going to say to me?
“G’day Your Majesty, let’s see about PR for your invasion of the stretch of coast between here and Newcastle.” I would crack him smartly with a riding crop, (I do ride, it’s not just an affectation), and say,
“FFS, we don’t need no steenking PR – anyone who doesn’t like me gets shot. Once the clips turn up on YouTube, most people will decide loving me is heaps better than the alternatives.”
“Had you thought about television ads?”
*sound of a body hitting the floor*
I wouldn’t waste bullets, this is what stilettos are for. The daggers, not the shoes. Though you could probably use a shoe, in a pinch. Yes, everyone, rise up, and take off your shoes!
Don’t these people know anything about absolute monarchs? Next gem…website is all high tech marketing, posts could have been written by a monkey who mastered cut and paste. So no, i won’t Follow you back.
Salespeople think we can’t tell – well, some of us dabbled in many Dark Arts. And here’s where you go wrong. You can’t keep it up – eventually, mate, your insincerity stands out like roos’ balls.
How about this? “Marketing [blah blah blah] …create a positive cash f “. Yes, a positive cash f – just what i’ve always wanted! A positive cash fuckup? Flipper? Fairy? Ooh – a positive cash fairy! Hang on, i have to email!
Omg, it was actually the MLM troll. *spits cappuccino on the screen*
Why don’t people read over their own work? It’s extremely unprofessional when your spiel is truncated. And for you not to notice? Oh puh-leeze, impress someone else with your lack of basic business skills.
Not everyone is a potential customer, idiot. “social and viral marketing is my passion” oh gee, i wonder if i’ll add him?
I did add a guy who’s a blog coach, but he seemed human. All the vocations people have today, it’s like a smorgasbord.
I started in sales. Oh, the horror. I have morals, you know – i can’t lie through my teeth to make a sale. Weird, how life turns out. Now that training helps me in the Twitterverse. Oh hey, i got one who’s a founder of a charity – they help poor children.
I’m just putting my hair in pigtails, the webcam in soft focus, and I’m off to pitch him. “Pwease, mithter, *snarls* your money or your life!” Oops, no, that will never do. Must tone it down. Perhaps just, “I’m the Queen of Darkness, *bright smile and let him see the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov under the coat *hand over the cash, and I’ll put a good word in with Dad.”
Simple is always best. I’ll Follow him back, give him a badge, maybe put a minion on him – to tail him and get his PIN numbers.
Oh – i did get Warlach this morning. (He’s human, and got Followed back.) On his blog, he’s playing one of those games (all automatic but you need to assemble your album cover in Photoshop or something) – generating a random band name, first album, and album cover. There are some amazing ‘first albums’ on his site – go see. This is mine.
While prepping this blog, I came across an article on how you should always follow back on Twitter, and was getting quite humpy disagreeing over it. Then he said, “You shouldn’t follow everyone, just your human followers… Twitter is rife with spammers, PR junk, and companies that follow you in the hope that you will follow them back. Don’t follow them.”
And i thought, oh, yes, exactly.
Title of this blog is from “Soldier Laddie“, a song my (ex-Duntroon) Dad used to play at me when i was a kid. (Duntroon’s our version of West Point.)
Will ye stand in the band like a true Irish man,
For we go to fight the forces of the Crown
Irish Rebel songs, a good musical upbringing for your benevolent Aussie despot. There will be singing, and electric guitars. Sheila Bastard gets to sing lead – no other reason than she wants to.
Life’s not fair, but I’m holding the Hello Kitty Kalashnikov.
Now my nazi friend got 32 – so he was very unprog, but me, i scored.
Then i decided to click, and ‘see how other groups scored’
So, (if you can see that no US citizen gets over 247.1 on this test) what does this mean? Yes, I’m not American. I’m pretty normal here in Oz* – and according to the left wing of my family, i’m a right wing fascist. I tried to say, it’s anarchist monarchist**, but does anyone listen?
I made the mistake of saying to Mum that i didn’t think i’d vote Labor any more. They’re left wing, historically more so than the Democrats but they’re not very leftist any more – more centrist and moving towards totalitarianism.
Mum is not leftist – she would vote One Nation (anti-immigration, send the bastards back and kill the reffos***), if they ran a candidate in her posh suburb. She told one sister, just to gloat. Of course, next thing there’s a sussuration of horror going round the country. Nobody bothered to ask me who i was voting for.
I was actually thinking of throwing my vote away, doing a protest vote, say voting Green. Then this so-called Labor government decided to make deals with the Family First party (out there with One Nation on the lunatic rightwing fringe), and bring in a filter to censor MY internet.
You’ve heard of it, right? *shakes head and groans* We already have the slowest net, now we’ll have the most censored of any democracy. We’re going to be like China (or Saudi Arabia, Iran, Burma/Myanmar – pick your dictatorship – and let’s not pretend China is communist, LOL.)
The Labor government want to bring in a net filter that your ISP will have to install, and blank out all adult content. Yes, that’s right, anything 18+ will be gone. You can opt in (and out yourself as a pervert) to get ordinary soft porn (omg, i can see her nipples) – but anything kinky (look at meh, i have a leather corset!) is going to be unavailable from an Australian ISP. No opting into that, it’s all going to be marked BAD and you’re not allowed to see. Despite it being legal.
They’re also going to ban some sites just because – already the list has been leaked, and most of the content is legal everywhere in Australia (except WA and areas of the NT where porn is banned). There are already mistakes – I’ve blogged about this in detail.
So, get your arse (it’s an Aussie butt, it’s an ARSE) to this site and at least sign the petition, or you’re about to lose the right to choose what you look at. Subscribe to this excellent blog for all the news up to the minute.
Progressive, moi? I’m going to flog any of you who don’t sign the petition – and not in a nice this-is-your-safeword-and-are-you-comfy kind of way – but i suppose i could have you shot, so it’s progressive. However, with me being a benevolent monarch – and uber-progressive – you get a prize.
Do something now, while the wowsers**** don’t have complete control of the country. The net is just the beginning, they’ve said, the rest of the country is next – we’ll be back to the sixties, with banned books and people being arrested for having breasts.
Vote me for Queen of Darkness.
I promise, i’ll never criminalise you for your body parts.
*Oz = Oztralia AKA Australia
**anarchist monarchist* you lot can do what you want,
but I get to be queen
*** reffos – refugees
**** wowsers the terminally prim who wouldn’t know fun if it bit them on their tight arses – and who want to inflict their narrow view of the world on us all.
N.B. in case it was a fluke, i went back, and scored 327, lol
i discovered one of my Tweeple was a convicted spammer – arrrggghhh!(Maybe check your list, lol.) So i went through my Following quite ruthlessly. Unfollow you! No quarter given to MLM people – die die die!
And don’t tell me you’re a writer when your promo site uses ‘and’ at the beginning of a sentence in the first paragraph. Yes, i use ‘and’ to start sentences, but I know it’s wrong. I try not to do it often, and I’m writing in a conversational tone, so it’s easier to get away with. Too much, and it jars. You don’t use it when trying to impress someone with your business writing acumen. (Aren’t i great? i can rant and still use ‘acumen’ in a sentence.)
Likewise, don’t tell me you’re a photographer when your pic is crap, either. Oh yes, all i needed this morning was to be unimpressed, so all who lacked Tweet-value are gone. For me, Tweet-value means they give me a giggle or they’re just nice people. I also got rid of anyone who seemed to be fighting with others online, or who didn’t answer my Tweets to them (despite only a few followers) .
I went from over 150 i was Following to… *drum roll* 55! Howzat? And all of them are now people i either like, am giving a chance to, or they amuse meh. Oh – and i kept some of my news feeds, and some of the brainiac brigade, i like to be stimulated.
Ha, in your face, Al Gore. (Yeah, i unFollowed him again – he doesn’t make me laugh.) I kept Guy Kawasaki but not for the usual reasons.
Yeah, I have a soft spot for his bone structure – lovely cheekbones. You can’t keep trading on the past, though. Oops – i just Googled him – turns out he didn’t invent a motorcycle at all – i reckon he changed his name to that to sound cool. In Australia, he’d be known as Kwakka – as that’s what our shorthand for Kawasaki is.
Quite unintentionally, (repeat after me, Her Majesty says, “intent is for wusses”), I’ve made myself look good on Twitter. I’m only Following 55, but 97 are Following me. So desirable am i, i’ll probably have all these people looking to see why so many are Following – and even if they can’t figure it out, they’ll Follow me to be cool.
Of course, i will lose a bunch, once the 100 or so i was Following Unfollow me.
I only unfollowed Tweeple who i didn’t think i really had anything in common with. I’m on Twitter to make friends, keep my brain active, and have a laugh, not to find marks and suckers. World domination’s really just a sideline, and one i’d like to achieve from talent, not just cleavage.
There are plenty like me. Twitter’s really a nice place, once you get rid of the MLM people (“make $$$ ask me how” is not funny, even the first time you hear it).
Darn it, i just found someone interesting – back to 56 I’m Following. Ooh – but i now have 98 Followers – who will be lucky 100? Oops, no, i’m down to 96… damn! Ooh – back to 97… *reads profile* hmm – i’m worried, why would someone who says “Husband, Dad, Christ follower, Life and Leadership Coach for ministry leaders, Options Trader, online Professor” be following me?
Omfg – it’s from when i posted about being the Queen of Darkness and the Antichrist – i need to go back to Twitter, check religious affiliations!I’m being infiltrated by Christians! That explains the drunk gay Christian who added me last night! He wasn’t really drunk, or gay – that was all a front. (I deleted him for being drunk, i’m fussy that way.)
Yes, “argh kill me” is still the top search for people who find me – the Christians must think i’m actually killing them. Jeez – life’s just fraught. Ooh, Ooh, number 100 *sound of trumpet fanfare* yeah – a business one, but it’s free, so i followed back. Nice Tweets.
i’ve had several much-appreciated messages from people, saying they liked my writing, and/or that i made them laugh. I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping Mr Bastard and I either sane or alive. Laughing, i mean, not him appreciating my glorious prose. *coughs*
The mould doesn’t settle in your lungs as bad – it’s like aerobic exercise for those who can’t afford a treadmill. I find walking any distance outside a problem, thanks to Aunty Mary running over my knees that time.
Yes, i’m exaggerating for comic effect. It was in May, ’95. She only bounced me (and my knees) off several places on the driver side, while i was holding onto the door, before i lost my grip, and was pitched off, to sail through the air at a height taller than my five-five (166cm), for some distance.
This gave me time to muse on mortality. It was in neon, a mile high, a shout at God, “But I haven’t finished yet.” Like a waitress had removed my soup. I knew with some certainty, that i hadn’t. I knew i’d have to come back and go through all the crap that had got me to this point, just to catch up to where i’d got to in this life. (Yes, reincarnation sucks sometimes. Funny, i didn’t believe in it, until that moment, when i hung suspended between Heaven and Earth. Then i just knew.)
Teach me to stand inside an open car door when the motor’s still running. We live and learn – hopefully. I have friends and family i want to weep for, watching them repeat patterns – like standing inside open car doors when the engine’s running – that are guaranteed to lead them to that moment of misery, high above the Earth, where we think, oops, that was a silly idea. Whether by choices that allowed others to abuse (or run us over), or by the choice to abuse ourselves.
Yes, i was quite surprised to survive – at the very least, i was going to lose my legs – there were three separate points during the experience where i thought oh fuck. I’m dead. At one point i even thought, no, do not let me live after i have been crushed from the hips down, (which i could see coming at me, as part of my very immediate future.)
Very matter-of-fact, I was. It was only on the third time, that I had that split second extra, to think. Anyway, people came running up, who were very surprised that i was conscious and not apparently bleeding. So was i. I wiggled. Hmm, i began to sit up. I was in a bit of pain, but i’d had broken bones before, and i didn’t seem to have any now.
Don’t try to move, said my saviours, and i ignored them. I think, I said, I’m okay. They scoffed but didn’t have that medical training to hold me down, and i sat up, thinking, holy fuck, my legs aren’t broken. They’d nearly gone between two cars – when the impact happened, the door i was hanging off had been bent along the car’s wing, towards the headlights. Not just a bit, but completely flattened.
Up til then, i’d managed to get my toes to the lip of the driver’s side, arched my back like a bow (amazing what the thought of being crushed can do to a back), and had kept myself off the roadway and from going under the car i was hanging onto. I had burred lines along my cowboy boots where i got dragged a bit, but nothing serious. I’d nearly worn flat shoes and light cotton pants, then had instead worn boots and jeans. That saved me.
It was then, as we hit the other car, that i went airborne.
Anyway, this is all justification for one thing – i get to ride on the tank when we invade Budgewoi – oh, and then Halekulani. There’s a nice club and restaurant there. Oh – and then we need to detour south, to the lighthouse at Norah Head. No, not for strategic reasons, the best cafe is there. Lovely view down over Cabbage Tree Bay.
Can you tell, I’m avoiding what i really should be doing? Yeah, me too. I’ve done the washing up, swept the veranda, am thinking of doing some washing, and ooh, ooh! I can have a shower, too. Oh, i’ll just slip in a quick blog.
And then, I’ll work on my book. Oh, wait… I just need to sweep up downstairs…. and strip the bed… I can procrastinate in such productive ways.
Anyway, there i was in the air, pissed off after escaping certain death twice in about ten seconds, only to be about to crack my head on the carpark below, and the ground was coming up to meet me.
Afterwards i discovered all my nails on my right hand, neatly sheared off as i’d reached towards the bitumen. Not bleeding, just filed down hard. A tiny bit of gravel rash, and i mean tiny and not bad, on one elbow and one hand, and spectacular bruising from hip to ankle that went right through both knees.
I drove us home, poor Mary was in a state. She’d floored the accelerator instead of the brake when the auto gear slipped from Park into Reverse.
A miracle. And the thing is, i knew what i needed to do. So when you say, thanks, you made me laugh, or thanks, i loved your writing, it makes me think yes, this is why i’m here. It makes me feel so good.
There … gawd, it’s only 9am – i might actually end up doing some work on the book after all. Oh – hang on, no, my computer’s gone mental and thinks we’re off Summer time – and we aren’t. It’s actually ten, i’ve lost an hour, and i don’t know how i’m going to get the washing done before lunchtime, I need a shower, and omg, those cupboards need a wipe down.
Strange searches you folk use… “argh kill me” brought you to my site, eh? I’m not sure whether to be flattered. *walks too close to a child and watches as it self-combusts* oops.
Seriously, your last chance? If i can’t make you laugh, you’re doomed? Jeez, that’s a heavy responsibility. Had you considered therapy instead? I mean, yes, i make jokes, but what happens if you don’t happen to think say, that three is funny? (Mel Brooks says so.)
I can barely work my own blog, and you come here hoping for redemption? Or are you hoping for a quick end? *hones the Gleaming Instruments of Death* I’ve got some time this morning?
That’s it, people are coming here to die... like elephants. I thought you were laughing, but there’s a pile of virtual bones just outside, where the web-vultures have been through your carcasses. I had no idea! It must be the dangerous mould in the house, it’s in the blog. It’s toxic, you know – try living with it.
Maybe that’s a way to get the owner of the house back for the mould – i could just send a link, say casually, hey, have a laugh on me. And then i could gloat, as they come in, look around, and drop dead.
Welcome, I’d say, in my best Queen of Darkness voice, (don’t you have one?), to the Blog of Doom! *sound of cackling* I’d add, that this is what happens, when you don’t look after your tenants, despite them being nice people who always pay their rent on time.
Queen of Darkness? Oh – another nickname like Sheila Bastard. It’s one i gave myself – quite by accident. I was saying that so many who profess to be on the side of Light are bitter bigots.
If that’s Light, i said, I’m the Queen of Darkness. Next thing i knew, the boys in the band were calling me Your Majesty and, when they wanted to be annoying, Queenie. *shudders* So i wrote a song about it.
Anyway, if this blog kills you, I can’t take any responsibility – it’s the landlord and the owner’s fault, you see. Oh – and that’s not me admitting to being the Antichrist there. Just in case someone tries to pin that on me. I am not the Antichrist. *phoomph sound as a budgie who gave me a dirty look explodes*
Well, i may be the Antichrist, (all unwitting over my own Fate), but the world domination thing is purely for my own pleasure, it’s not because Dad told me to. Honest.
Hmm – but of course, the Antichrist would lie to you. Are you still alive? Well there’s your proof. *brushes the ashes of the budgie under the couch*
I’ve been going through my loyal Followers on Twitter again, (no rest for the wicked). Thank Heaven for Karma, which in this case is a neat program that sifts through for you. Woe betide those who aren’t stalking Following me, like i’m stalking Following them.
I ran it a few days ago, and deleted someone who had begun then stopped Following me. Next thing, i get a hey, what’s up, and he’s Following me again. Hmm. I re-Followed him. Today i ran Karma again. Guess who had removed himself again? Yep, lol. It annoyed me.
See, the thing about Twitter, is that there’s a snobbery about how many Followers you have – especially when it’s lots more than the people you’re Following. You seem less needy, more cool *puts on Raybans to set the mood* – like Eddie Izzard the last time i looked, with tens of thousands of Followers, and he was only Following one. That’s like being a glacier, that’s so cool.
Aside from the gameplayer who dumped me, I’ve dropped a couple of people out of my list, purely in self-defence, (they filled up my Twitterverse with too many hearty quotes or pleas for me to look at their stupid site). However, since i learned to read profiles before automatically following someone back, i rarely add anyone who’s just an MLM person – i don’t mind if they are an MLM person, but don’t bash me over the head with it. We Agents of Satan need marketing people too.
I am up to 64 Followers *hands out sweets* and 115 who I’m Following (sorry, no sweets, not until you follow me, NY Times and CNN). Yes, my Following list keeps going up – I’ve got some fabulous folk I’m following – i love their minds – so i looked in their lists of who they Follow, for new people.
The other thing about Twitter? It’s more popular with working adults, rather than Generation Y – i know this because someone Tweeted it. Anyway, most Tweeple are over 35. There’s about 1.3 million 25-34 – then there’s about 4.5 million older than that. Including nearly half a million over 65. Me getting that mob of teenage boys was a fluke.
When i finally get to my turnto be an overnight world dictator success, i worry that all the good Followers will be refusing to take on anyone. I’ll end up being followed by people i don’t like, like the Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, who i saw on someone’s list today.
I contemplated following him, purely to make snide comments. Something like “I know you bleach your hair. You’re really Chinese, go back where you came from, you censoring bureaucrat!” (He speaks the language and is installing a net filter just like the one they have, that stops democracy and YouTube.)
The invasion’s slightly delayed, the mechanic says he’s waiting on parts for the tank, and the vegetarians demanding plastic boots before they join my minions has put the annexation of the local coast back weeks.
This is my invasion ID – cool, huh?
Then…. well, logically, we should annex Sydney, but i really don’t likeSydney. Can we go to Queensland instead? *blushes at being found to not be that autocratic all the time* Ahem, I mean, we will invade Queensland next.
I think i’ve overdone the speed reading testing (opens in a new window) but it was fun. I’m clocking their top speed of 3,500 words a minute (edit: it’s been upped to 5,000 wpm) and learned a lot about how i read. I read a a paragraph at once, sometimes more, depending on how big the paragraph is.
It’s in degrees of depth – the line i’m actually reading is me checking i know what’s being said. In front of the line i’m ‘reading’, my brain is already assembling the probable meaning of the next half a page. It’s why i usually spot a typo at a hundred paces, because i instantly see a wrong shape, my brain says, huh? And bam, i’m on it.
Naturally, this skill is one that’s damn handy for the web, for looking things up, (i can skim much faster than i can read, looking for keywords in a Google page). I can see when the pages i do look at are copies of each other – the shapes match. That’s so common on the web, rehashed info on site after site.
There’s a button you can take from the Eyercize site, put on your Mozilla toolbar (i don’t know how it works in IE, am using Firefox) and hey presto -you can read any text you can mark with your mouse, then test yourself.
My keys to reading fast are
don’t read every word – most writing is predictable – with a little brain-training, you can predict what words will come next.
the more you read, the better your spelling, grammar, and syntax become when you write, the faster your reading becomes – yes, it’s slow at first, but everything that’s worth doing has at least a slight learning curve.
learn to enjoy words – find something you want to read. Do it for your kids and friends too.
it doesn’t matter how you read, if you’re comfy with it – i personally don’t like reading books or longer articles on a screen – others like Kindle and other online text readers.
do a speed reading course – i’m a natural, 99% of people aren’t.
Life isn’t going to get less complicated – the next generations will have to process incredible amounts of the written word every day- or become the illiterate and disenfranchised. Already, about 20% of adults in Western countries are considered illiterate – they can’t read a road sign.
It was 760 words to that last paragraph in the original draft, then it occurred to me – The guy at Eyercize said
The average American reads at about 180-240 wpm which is the wall for people that sub-vocalize and/or read one word at the time.
400wpm is considered fast, less than 10% read at that speed or faster.
less than 1% read at 800wpm or faster.
Btw, this is all with 75-85% comprehension and recall.
So, I reasoned, the average American would take (at average average speed of 210wpm) over 3 and a half minutes to read to there. Nobody can concentrate for that long any more! Me, it takes a few seconds.
See why speed reading is good? It gives you precious time.
I edited this post down to 523 in total. LOL. Maybe some of you will actually finish it now.
i was reading the very funny DavisW’s Blog which has two just fabulous interviews with his three cats. Remember, he came up with cat condoms first!
Anyway, the lovely pictures and funny text made me think of my own three cats, all sadly deceased, and how much i’d love a new cat. We can’t have animals here at all, in the House of Mould. They’ll let the roof leak, but heaven forbid we might have the comfort of a pet of any kind.
The first thing Mr Whatsit and I want when we move is a kitten or probably a pair. We’d like Siamese if we can find a chunky old-style one, but otherwise we’re both smitten with Burmese too.
I like all animals, but cats in particular are my people. When i was a baby, Mum had a pair of Siamese who acted as my nursemaids, and were incredibly tolerant. I remember having my head in the tom’s belly and pushing him across the floor like that.
They were a breeding pair of Seal Point Siamese, a few months older than me, Tarzan and Jane, supposed to make Mum a fortune. She’d grown up with Siamese too, so it seemed the perfect business for a young Mum.
One problem, Jane was a slut. She’d get ‘with kitten’ to the black tom at the pub down the hill, and then come home, drop the litter for Tarzan to look after, which he did, while she went off gallivanting. He’d be sitting there, purring, little black kittens tumbling all over him, the proud dad.
After three litters of coal-black kittens, (Siamese are born white), Mum and Dad had enough and they were sold to separate homes. That was the last we heard of Jane, but Tarzan wasn’t going to let us go.
He turned up on the doorstep inside a day, from about five miles away, yowling abuse at my parents for sending him away. So we lived with a tom until I was seven.
He was very well behaved with people, trained us kids smartly in what he’d put up with, which was a heck of a lot, and never sprayed near the house. He did get into fights with other toms in the neighbourhood. I don’t know why my parents didn’t keep him in tom’s quarters, or at least in at night, but they never did. Amateur breeders can be a menace. Also, they’d never heard of an indoor cat.
Mum started getting worried about his ears getting ripped up with his fighting, so had him done at the age of seven – and he sailed through it despite all the people who say, omg, don’t neuter an older cat! He also didn’t get fat. He lived ‘til he was fourteen, which is old for a Siamese. By then his teeth were snaggled, but he still kept us in line with a swat of his paw.
Now, you may think, you’re safe. Your autocratic ball of fluff doesn’t have the distinctive point markings. In fact, he’s a baby ginger tom. Maybe a cute calico girl.
I hate to break it to you, but look at the ears. Yep, big ears means probably Siamese blood – could be Burmese. Either way, you’d better be preparing for a life of servitude. Don’t worry, they’ll make you laugh too.
Now, cats think they own us. It’s one of those things. However, Siamese, they’re different. They know they are Supreme Beings. Simple. We may worship Them. If They are in the mood.
People talk about freaky kids who were raised by wolves, and how young Wolfboy never did like his meat well-done. Me, i was raised by Siamese. It’s the only thing that explains me. Zen and the Art of World Domination isn’t a life path for just anyone. Omniscience means i can still hit you with my paw with my eyes crossed.
People always say, “Tiddles never lets anyone touch him” as their cat comes up to me, lets me pet it, then usually leaps into my lap and purrs at me. Often the owner gets a bit jealous as Tiddles makes a fuss of me and lets me do stuff to him when usually he won’t even come when called.
You shouldn’t be jealous. They recognise me, that’s all.
Yep, I’m white on the outside, Siamese on the inside.
It’s not intentional. My two regular visitors will have been close to nausea the way this blog’s been changing colours and styles. My own learning curve with how this works is at fault.
I finally decided the style i wanted was the one i had last week. It’s the only 3 column one I like, and i have all these widgets. They’re the little things around the page – like the Recent Posts widget.
I couldn’t get it to work last week, but read up on it, realised what was probably wrong, reloaded it, and of course, because i wasn’t expecting it to work, it did. So i didn’t need the debugging help after all. Computers are weird. We all know that.
On Twitter, I’m trying to cull the marketers from the Who I’m Following List. I have 51 Followers. You can bet Al Gore is starting to sweat. I’m following 88. I’ve suddenly started getting very young men following me on Twitter, which is a bit scary. I have responsibilities, not to harm their young minds.
They’re all hyper-achievers, (not the slackers i was expecting – I’m judging people by what i was like at that age again), with websites of their own that show off the most amazing minds. I’m attracting child prodigies. Life gets weirder.
I’ve made some pics on icanhazcheeseburger to cater for my new following – they’re the ones on this post. Which reminds me, no more sex with God. Still, i reckon anyone who sees the header is going to figure out there might be bad language at the bloody least.
Oh yeah, the Sheila Bastard thing. What’s that about? I hear you say. (The miracles of artistic licence.) It’s my name from about 20 years ago, when a friend used to joke that he wanted me as his band manager, but i had to use that name, because it would scare the A&R guys even more than me in full-on World Domination mode would.
It’s a joke, on being Australian – ‘sheila’ means ‘woman’ in Aussie slang, and ‘bastard’ is both an epithet and a term of endearment. So Sheila Bastard I became. Sheila’s a convenient nickname for those who need a first name, as I’m not prepared to share my own on this blog. Not interested in getting any stalkers.
I now have zero tolerance for those who choose to stay insane. Let them stalk someone else. Me stalking Eddie Izzard and Stephen Fry on Twitter is not the same thing. Oh wow, speaking of Twitter – i just found this. It’s an animated world map of Tweets, quite amazing to watch.
I am up to 55 Followers. Ha, eat my Tweets, Al Gore. And of course, it being Twitter, the number I’m Following has gone up to 82.