I'm a Twit-Idiot

Maybe I need a category for "the future is here and I'm scrambling to keep up."

So I, um, created a Twitter account today. Thought I'd ease into it and figure out how it works and, ya know, not make an ass of myself in public until I had half a Twitter-clue. I posted my initial Twitter messages -- er, tweets -- thinking I was out in there in the e-universe by myself just testing the medium.

Next, I searched for the three people that I knew for certain had Twitter accounts; easily "found" them; and clicked to "follow" them. And then thought of a couple of more people who might have accounts, and did the same.

Again, I'm thinking I'm out there alone and no one could "see" me messing with this form of communication trying to figure out how it all works. You guessed it.

Suddenly: Emails from the people-I'm-following. I had no idea that they'd, ya know, get Twitter-info that they had a new "follower," and actually realize that I was following them.

And, yes, that idea is creepy. Tantamount to stalking someone, so, yes, I shoulda realized. Yikes.

But I'll figure this out. Really, I will. I'm a move-into-the-future kind of person. I can do this. Although I'll likely make a total fool of myself in the process.......

Now Playing: Samuel Barber

Samuel Barber's "Concerto for Violin and Orchestra." (First three tracks on this cd.) Big fan of Barber's music, am I.

Newspapers = Convenience

So this morning while eating breakfast, I read the following in just one newspaper, the Wall Street Journal (a copy of which lands in our driveway every morning) (*1)

--- a front page story about people who hate cilantro (Me? I love the stuff.)

--- a long piece by science reporter Robert Lee Hotz on "radio astronomers," scientists who hunt for extraterrestrial intelligence

--- a report about sharp declines in consumer spending on food (not necessarily because people are eating less but because they're finally figuring out that Hamburger Helper and Kellogg's Sugar Flakes don't, ya know, offer much dollar value....)

--- a review of what sounds like a fascinating book, Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives

--- an essay about Willie Nelson's current passion: Western Swing. (He has a new album out titled "Willie and the Wheel.) (I'm a serious and decades-long fan of Willie Nelson. When he dies, Frank and Johnny are gonna have to make room for him on their bench next to god. I'm also a long-time fan of Western Swing and Bob Wills.) (*2)

--- an article about Toyota's cost-cutting measures, which are designed to reduce company expenses while protecting its employees' jobs

My point? I got all of this in one convenient package, namely a "newspaper." The one I read happened to be made of paper, but it would have been fine with me if I'd read it on some other "delivery" device (a Kindle, a laptop, whatever).

What mattered was that a single entity, the Wall Street Journal, delivered the content to me. Each piece was well-written and -research, and I didn't have to roam all over the web to find them.

Yes, the web is stuffed to its e-gills with great stuff, and I'm not opposed to roaming around hunting for it. But I love that a "newspaper" delivers this content to my door, so to speak. I love the convenience. Which, now that I think of it, may not be much of a point.

But presumably you get my drift: As a mode of communication, "newspapers" have been successful for two centuries because they offer not just content, but a convenient way to access that content.

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*1: As always, a caveat about the WSJ: there is no rhyme/reason to its website content. Some of it is free; some of it is not. Also, the WSJ has THE worst website of any major media organization on the planet. Truly, it's awful. Last year, the company revamped the site, and the new version is a significant improvement over the old one, but it's still, well, awful.

*2: A week or so ago, the Journal also ran a piece about the release of Bob Wills' "Tiffany" recordings. You can read that here.

In Praise of Abita

Shall we end this workweek on a high note? This article about Abita Brewing.

I'm a serious fan of Abita Turbodog, which may be one of the best beers in America. (True, it came in second when I bracketed beers for the first edition of The Enlightened Bracketologist, but it won -- yay! -- two weeks ago when I bracketed beers again for the second edition of Bracketologist [coming soon; no link yet].)

So: enjoy the weekend. Enjoy a Turbodog!

(Preferably with the one you love.Tomorrow, I gather, is Valentine's Day. That's a non-starter at our house, where every day is V-Day.) (Yes, you read that right. I don't expect, and don't particularly want, flowers, chocolates, jewelry, or, dear god, a Vermont Fucking Teddy Bear -- although those commercials are hilarious.) (

Why, yes, I do make the perfect wife, thankyouverymuch!)

Some Maggots With That Beer?

Whoa! Talk about scary.

The sauerkraut on your hot dog may average up to 50 thrips. And when washing down those tiny, slender, winged bugs with a sip of beer, you might consider that just 10 grams of hops could have as many as 2,500 plant lice. Yum.

Or not. But some perspective helps:

1. Ten thousand years ago, people were eating food in a considerably more "natural" state than we are now.

2. Millions and millions of people have grown up eating peanut butter and then consumed oceans of beer as adults, and 99.99999% of us survived. (Yes, I am sensitive to the fact that eight [nine?] people have died recently from eating contaminated peanut products. My point is that those tragedies were the exception rather than the norm.) (And yes, the company president who took the fifth the other day at the hearings is the Asshole of the Decade.)

3. All those thrips, maggots, and mites; rot, mold, and "mammalian excreta," no doubt bolster our immune systems. Think of all those "additives," in other words, as "organic" supplements.

More Drinking Madness

Wow, this is creepy! Especially this:

Art Brown, president of the Salt Lake County chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, said he would like to see the card scans with the central database on top of the existing private club laws.

To which I repeat what I've said before: groups like MADD aren't the solution; they're the problem. Tip o' the mug to our man-on-the-nanny-state-beat, Jacob Grier.