July 15, 2006

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz--out of time. 24 hours and my comment hasn't appeared on Richard Edelman's blog

Well, according to the policy, my comment should have appeared on the Edelman blog by now.

Comment Submission

The comment you submitted is being reviewed in an effort to curb malicious comments posted by abusive users. Your comments should appear on the live site within the next 24 hours. Thanks for your patience. Return to the comment page.

Am I the only one who sees this as hypocritical?

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1 hour left for comment moderatin at Richard Edelman's Blog

Well, there's one hour left before the 24-hour mark promised by Richard at his blog when you submit a comment, which I did for the first time yesterday. I'm definitely not "anonymous." I'm questioning, not "abusive," and I'm pretty sure I'm not a spammer like my friend jon (it's a joke). So what's taking so long?

The comment I left, luckily I saved it, and posted here. I've never not had a moderated comment accepted on a blog in almost 6 years of doing this, except or BLOchman, whom I have seen runs a tightly controlled, positive-spin from Important People comment policy. I've been nice and she doesn't let my comments through. I believe that's because she thinks that I "Am Well Liked in the Blogosphere." That bothers some folks. I wonder why?

Want to know the funniest part? Richard did come here and comment on my comment that was supposed to appear on his blog. So obviously, he thought it worth a reply.

Is it good enough for my readers and not his? What?

What does that make all of you?

Maybe he'll let my comment through in the next hour.

You just never know.

(fingers crossed)

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Halfway through Comment Moderation at Edelman's Blog...the count down continues

Okay, so we're just about at the halfway point in the moderation-approval count down involving my comment on Richard's "serious case of malpractice" post. It's been 12 hours. 12 more hours and I think my comment will appear.

I'm so on pins and needles. This blogging is great the way it enables conversation--like when someone says something and someone comments right back and then someone says something more.

Hmmm. Sure takes a long time over there at Edelman to review comments. I bet that's because they get so many. I wonder how many comments get flushed each day? Good things pixels aren't trees.

Sure has been an exciting day.

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July 14, 2006

health update

So many of you have kindly asked about my ongoing discomfort of late. Thank you! Truly. Without friends like you, all I'd have is enemas--I mean enemies.

Speaking of which, I have a "small bowel follow-through" series scheduled for Monday morning. They didn't tell me much about it, but I searched some stuff up on google.

They always say the prep is the wost. I've been practicing all day, and I think I'm ready.

Piano Playa...

thank you, internet.

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a word on civility

that i left at euan's.

Civil is a cop out. Civil is one of those words that can be used to shame anyone with a differing opinion.

Uncivilized is what one part of the world calls another part of the world. It is a divisive word, and it has nothing to do with the net.

Let the net remain uncivilized and brilliant and dangerous and nasty and healthy and amateurish and childish WHILE AT THE SAME TIME offering a pathway for humans doing business to connect and get shit done.

The net offers layers of communication and connectivity--a single medium that can bring instant lifesaving data to the OR during a difficult medical procedure AND deliver a realtime suicide to the desktop -- in the same instant.

It's bigger than civil.

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I wonder if Richard Edelman will be posting my comment soon.

just kind of hanging out here. wondering. about 19 hours left. said 24 hours--unless comments are abusive. then i think it's like 334409 hours. Or the end of time. which ever comes first.

I'm kind of counting down to edelman comment moderation approval.

want to count down with me?

wonder who handles the comment moderation. is that the CEO's job? hmmm. hope they don't leave it to a summer intern. snort. whoa. that'd be a baaad idea. media monitoring yes. comment moderation no. reading blogs yes. commenting on blogs no.


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It said on richard edelman's blog it might take 24 hours for my comment to show up...

so i figured I'd post my response to Richard's Serious Case of Malpractice post here:


You say: "First, the comment is personal, not substantive. Jarvis is alleged to not have a life and is called a worm."

I thought the whole promise of the blogosphere was its admitted (and cherished) bias (opposed to MSM's pretend non-bias). Of course the comment is personal. The kid was sifting through spam trying to find a relevant post on his client (we call that blog monitoring, right), probably at 7:30 a.m. before the office opened because the interns are the only ones you can get to do media monitoring before the Senior VPs are out of bed, and all he found about Dell was gripe after gripe from Jeff.

He did the intern equivalent of going postal without actually going postal. I'm not saying it's right, but don't pretend it couldn't happen inside of your doors.

If I were to counsel the young intern on how to gain a foothold in the blogosphere and become an opinion maker like Jeff Jarvis, I wouldn't change anything except for telling him to start his own blog and tutoring him a little on grammar.

Chris: "In this case, a summer intern's rantings are given virtually the same credibility as an AP reporter."

And that's the beauty of what we do here, isn't it? Except--OH WAIT!--Jeff and everyone else has a chance to respond instantly in this environment. It's a lot more difficult talk to the subjects of an AP story that's released on the wire.

As David Weinberger has said, the Internet is self-correcting. It also has a long memory. Who's a worm and who's not a worm will be sorted out-- but not until after this message from our sponsors....

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The Blogosphere and the PRosphere Just Met Up at the Intersection of Hilarity and Honesty.

Chris, my young friend. I owe you dinner for this, and for all that it sparked in Serious Opinion and Commentary in the Business of PR and the blogworld. I just have to share your comment:

Hey Jarvis. I honestly think you have no life. Honestly? Do you have a life, or do just spend it trying to make Dell miserable. I’ve been working with Dell the past three weeks researching trashy blogs that worms like you leave all over that frigen blogosphere and I cant honestly say that Dell is trying to take a step towards fixing their customer service. They hire guys like me to go on the web and look through the blogs of guys like you in hopes that we can find out your problem and fix it. But honestly I dont think you have a problem Dell can fix. Your problem is you have no life.

whaaahahahah aaahhhhhaaaaa ooooohhhh ho ho ho haaaahahahaha heeee heeeeee oommmyygggooodddaaaaahhhh ha hahhahahahahahaha hhhaaaaaaa ohhh oh ah hmm!!!!!! ohhhhwowhee! hoo. whooo. het hem. wshew. oh. man.

Never mind--call my cell and let me interview you. 678-294-0900. Quit that silly internship and get yourself a blog, lad. You need a little work on grammar, but you've got the right idea. Let's talk.

Hat tip to PR Opinions. I might have missed the whole incident without you. Aside from wiping my own poop onto occult blood test strips with a popsicle stick twice this morning, This Is the Best Shit I've Seen in a Long Time.

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July 13, 2006

Jenna + Me = Stupid Hamster Tricks

Christmas Morning Fun with Max and Melanie (formerly Marshmallow and Coco). This is Max's special talent.

tell me all about it

all about george's site is rockin' even harder these days. niceee.

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Oh, I just got it!

People don't believe that you can do serious business AND be a funny goofy dweeb-dork at the same time!

Sillies! Yes you can. Nine out of ten Human Beings even prefer it.

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Rapid Withdrawl and The Case for Shutting Up. No, Not You. YOU.

Rarely have I wanted to post so desperately about something and had so little time to actually string words together.

Yesterday and this morning I have been posting in my head furiously. And I haven't had a second to actually stop and put some of my cerebral posts down in pixels. You should have heard my brain posts--they were much better than this one will be. But I'll forge onward.

To begin, reference the post and ensuing comments at Euan's place, and at Alec Saunders place, each of whom wrote independently about an email exchange they (and I) were involved in yesterday (neither Alec or Euan knew the other had posted until I said, hey you, look at him; and hey you, look at him-- that's what I mean by independently, and that's how I know in case you were going to ask, knowing that the firestorm of "HOW DO YOU KNOW!?!" is likely to follow in what has become a "surreal," to use Alec's accurate descriptor, conversation about conversation).

Yeah, well, YOU write a sentence like that.

Enter Jon Husband, "the asshole who started it all" (he said it, not me) and my personal Qumana Quick Blogging Knight in Shining Armor.

The whole thing started when Jon sent an email to 8030 or so of his closest friends to tell them about a change of address, and to kind of say hi in a funny and smart way, the way that makes Jon fun to be around.

Mistake was, he put folks on the CC line instead of the BCC line. Now, that's something I would do, but it must have been a really busy day for Jon's cheese to have slid that far off the cracker.

Nonetheless, the net builds trust. I trust that Jon is not attempting to fuck up my day. In fact, I welcome Jon into my inbox, even when it's because he screwed up. Especially.

Worst practices anyone?

But I digress. My good friends--a dozen or so who were also on the supposed-to-be-bcc-list--set off onto the proper course of action when they found their email addys publicly listed (OH GOD!). They made lemonade from Jon's little yellow lumps.

What they did was transform shame into joy, right there, just then, in full view.

They turned an accident into an event, a yikes into a chuckle, said WTF, decided to start a social network, get a domain name, make t-shirts, and ramp up to 150 MPH from 0 in record time. You know. What ifs. Just exploring the idea of it all.

As a result of Jon's mistake and the ensuing pranksters, maybe 5 emails hit my inbox that I didn't ask to.

That was when the first recipient sent a one sentence demand to everyone to be removed from this email chain -- complete with an exclamation point and one word: PLEASE!

This gave permission for another of the recipients to admonish the group and ask for an out. And in discussions about what went down, many commentors have admonished Euan particularly for making a case to simply delete and shut up.

Now, there is nothing wrong with saying, hey, could you take me off this list? Whatever the reason, that's obviously one path to be taken upon receipt of what you perceive as some (time consuming?) email exchanges.

But there's MORE RIGHT WITH shutting the fuck up while allowing others to take the opportunity to connect with people they know, and meet people they don't know, to bring a split second of joy or a smile, a spark, maybe even an opportunity to learn something extraordinary from an ordinary moment.

From this accidental overdose of mail, I found Bruce again, and Bruce me.

We're going to have lunch and talk over how to start an intrusive email company. We're going to call it Relevant SpamTM.

Bruce doesn't know it yet because we haven't had lunch yet. But it's on the calendar. And we've been trying to have that lunch for nearly SIX YEARS. Yes, folks SIX YEARS. Since we both hit the blogosphere.

And the only reason it's on for next week is because Jon Husband Fucked Up.

What if that meeting changes the world; what if it changes our mind; what if it changes the way the chef makes his pasta; what if it changes the spare change in the homeless guy's pocket on the I-75 exit ramp; what if Bruce finds a stray dog on the way who winds up pulling him out of a burning house; what if I park in the sun and its 95 degrees and Jenna's crayons melt into a Ken Wilbur-like easel pad sketch that sells on ebay for $555,000?


For the love of humanity, can we not agree to make one mouse click to delete what might seem annoying rather than throwing boiling water on the dogs of the Internet as they passionately hump their species into continued existence?

Can we not agree to bow out quietly without ruining the exquisite moment of ejaculative procreation?

Give me something. I'll sign it.

Sweet Jesus, people.

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July 12, 2006

parentts and children and pain

the most difficult part of being a parent in pain--the kind of pain that keeps you from keeping up with your child--is the distress of not being able to keep up with your child. To not be present when they come to show you their newest piece of artwork--their mere movement can unravel your grip. I can't imagine what it was like for my father. I just can't. But I think about it. How he was my father and in agony in the same instant. Daddy.

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What kind of consultant shares her medical woes in front of her clients?


I'm in a lot of pain tonight. It's not characteristic of me, whatever health disasters I've had in the past, to be in recurring pain like this. Pain, I am reminded, puts you in a weird place. In this case, me. In a weird place. It's hard to focus enough to dissociate. That bites.

The docs are working on figuring it out -- got lots of blood taken today. Got an intestinal kind of test scheduled for Monday. Have to do one of those "mail your poop in" sample things. Ever done one of those?

I'm not too proud to say it in front of God and MySpace: I'll be handling my own excrement tomorrow.

HA! Take THAT Web 2.0!

So the docs can't as of yet figure out if its obgyn-related, intestinal/GI related, organ/infection related, something-worse related, or just one of those chronic conditions people wind up living with by their own good fortune and a lifetime of stress.

I suspect it's more than one thing. I am never ever a simple case. I am a medical case that makes doctors choose. Perseverate. Second guess: Do we stem the tide of blood down there or lift off her skull and fix her brain? Flip a coin, offer it up, and all of those things. So far I've had good doctors. Mostly.

I'm thinking that finding good doctors works the way social networks work online--it's him to her to him to her to them to bob's your uncle. It's all about trusted sources. It's what makes financial services work. It's what makes retail work. It's what makes the net work. We listen to those we trust and they steer us to those they trust.

It all goes back to the hyperlink.

And somewhere in traversing the network of physicians, caregivers, and supportive friends is someone who can get me out of pain and make sure my baby's mommy is okay and my husband's wife can smile at him.

In the mean time I'm practicing what I preach. The serenity prayer works for just about everything. Especially since I can't take ibuprofen until I'm done sending in my poop and I don't want to take that mor*phine-vic*o*din combo platter called Dilau*did unless I really need it.

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July 10, 2006

Got the ol' ultrasound today

Disclaimer: None of what follows is true. What I write here is fiction and may in no way be taken, at any time now or in the future, as evidence of a pre-existing condition for insurance, medical, or any other purpose. It's just one big lie.

So, Doc (not that Doc) did the ultrasound today for the pain I've been having in the lower right abdomen. I've got a cyst on my left ovary, no biggie; a bothersome fibroid (been there, still there) near some nether-region portion even I have better taste than to name here; and most likely a hernia. Wee!

I have to call and schedule an appointment for next week to find out for sure about that. Yes it's unusual for women to get hernias, but there is a hereditary link (grandmother, aunt), and, to be quite honest, I've been ripped from seam to seam abdominally by previous surgeries that have left me a bit, uh, compromised. The extra weight doesn't help either, although Grandma D. (who lived to be 93) was fit as a fiddle. Also stubborn and Sicilian, and worked physically harder than any women I've ever known. Except for her feet, knees and hernia, I don't remember any other maladies in all of those years. She was really something special too.

Hey it could be worse. Believe me, I know that. And the good news is I got some pain meds I've never even heard of (and i know my RXs). Starts with a D and it's not darvocet.

Anyway, it's off to make an appointment with two different docs to see if they can narrow it down to what's kicking my ass every other day in the pain department. But the possibility of a hysterectomy and hernia repair simultaneously is not out of the question at this point across the bridge of life. I guess I keep coming to this road for a reason - maybe it's time for me to head on down.

Thanks for listening. It's all good. Nothing to see here. I'll be fine. Thank you. I'm glad I quit smoking.

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no comments sux.

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i wonder when i stopped really liking flowers

people on flickr and bubbleshare and all over the web take photos of flowers. Many many people whose work I respect -- both the written word and photography -- are enthralled with flowers and close-up inspections of stamens and the like. The more pollen laden, the better the pix I guess. Throw in a bee in midflight, and the net gasps.

I can't blame viewers for admiring the spectacularness of such photos. And I'm a little ashamed to say that I don't much like flowers. I mean, I don't hate them or anything, but I'm just not drawn to them. Was it one too many Lilac Festivals as a kid? One too many funerals? What?

I want to like flowers and plants. I do. Jenna has a cactus. That's as close as I've come to having a plant in the house in like a dozen years. What's up with that? I think flowers are cute when they bloom, but unless that blossom turns into a tomato at the end of a vine, I'm like: that's nice.

Now when I get flowers I can put in a vase, I LIKE those kind. Because all I have to do is admire them, not take care of them. I like showing myself and other people that I am worthy of flowers. I like being flowered more than I like flowers.

What I guess I'm saying is this: Please, keep showing me the flowers you find, the pollen and petals and the like. I love that you love plant life. It takes enormous pressure off of me that you do. I am glad you are doing the caring on this one. Because I don't have it in me.

So, um, thank you. Or something.

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July 09, 2006

Mahon Harbour, Dusk.

Gary just freaked me out with a very wide picture made up of 14 shots. I like it.
Mahon Harbour, Dusk.
Originally uploaded by garyturner.

Soul power from Augusta... james, bobby, st. claire, +++

George, found some folks you know. They were, uh, younger.  So were we. ;-)

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all stars montreux 77

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Meg is still gone.

Don't think I don't think about her when I lift the lid to this laptop.

I do. I go to her page every other day now. The temptation, settling, but I still wait for her to post. Something. Anything: What will it look like, Meg? Show us. "It will look like this."

We leave here suspended. We go in the middle of our words. Frozen voices - 404s. How apparent a life unfinished, a backlit heartbeat quieted, steps backward in time, archived, begging just one more word.

We are made complete here by one another.

I still miss her.

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margaret's linked out

AKMA's wonderful better half Margaret thinks resumes should start with blurbs from people who know you--so the reviewer of the C.V. "gets" us before they get to the more laborious parts of our experience, education, and so on.

In keeping with the re-socializing of business through the Internet, I think she's onto something big. As more of wind up as cogs in the wheels of social networks (both formal and loosely joined) online, we are defining ourselves through our associations. Many (most?) times these associations have a professional layer.

As in, Michael O'Connor Clarke is my online bro, and he's also a colleague, and we're also in Second Life together, as well as a couple of other social this-and-thats. He's also be a natural "blurb"er for my resume.

Another idea is that social networks will eventually replace resumes, even for folks who don't live so much online. Job hunting for my profession has changed 300-percent thanks to the online company I keep--the task itself has gone away because I am so "findable" online.

The legacy of MySpace and LiveJournal on the soon-to-enter-the-workplace generation will be telling. In the meantime, Margaret, I'd love to blurb you. ;-)

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special special special special

Tony Royster, Jr. He's 12 in this video. Older now. George found it.

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have i mentioned lately...

...that i love that rosie o'donnell puts her pix online? Rosie's mom died when she was a kid on St. Patrick's Day like my dad did when I was a kid. I liked her even before I knew that.

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gotta get me one of these.

(if you want me to anonymously plug your book, lemme know--I got some experience on the book jacket of The Bombast Transcripts back in the day--'cept I wasn't anonymous).

Blurb quotes sans attribution
Originally uploaded by allaboutgeorge.

david weinberger

...with a lulu of a post about ISBN numbers and self-publishing on LuLu. David points out the load of info on the LuLu forums. In looking at all the information there, I was reminded that forums were a great source of user generated content before anyone gave a shit about user generated content.

Except that the point with forums has always been helping and/or sharing (when not trolling and/or flaming). So what do you call the kind of content that is essentially one user helping others? user generated help? self-support? co-dependence? enabling? Is it a bad thing or a good thing? I think I need a meeting.

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as the blog turns...

shelley's been writing her ass off pretty much everyplace. Meanwhile, this whole rocketboom thing makes me want to pukeboom.

Once again we watch a business partnership go frizzy. I can empathize with that place of no resolution, having been unboomed a year ago in September myself, and if I were to say anything to either partner in the boom-boom fiasco, it would be that good things can come from parting. Really good things.

Especially when a partnership isn't a true partnership at all.

So rock on blonde girl. Here's to what you do next. I always take the odds against dave. And by the way, did dave just toss the 'unenlightened' word at halley? Grump.

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Pavarotti's Pancreatic Cancer...

another reminder to donate to PanCan.

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good morning

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