from warbloggers to trumpeteers

This blog has been the frying pan for my thoughts for a long time now, going on 17 years. That's through GW Bush's administration, Obama's cool 8 years, and now this nightmare: Trump and the alt-right. I look back on how irate we were at "W," at 911, at the warbloggers who took "the war on terror" as their rallying cry to hate anything peace loving. The warbloggers were the genesis of today's Trump base. Ask-no-questions, flag-waving, globe-hating war enthusiasts that suddenly had a platform for hating anyone outside of our  boarders.

Today the warbloggers have come home to roost. They have their President. He has his nukes. And it feels like all the passion and resisting we did back then made not a bit of difference. Maybe we got complacent during Obama, a President that tried to be on the side of the people, or most people. Maybe there is no winning for the good guys in a country with a legacy such as this.

The Alt-Rogue vs the Alt-Right

We certainly live in interesting times. For social media, the use and misuse of a single communications channel may have just changed the course of the free world. Which makes for even more interesting times.

I don’t know about you, but I could use a little less excitement.

In the recent 2016 U.S. election of Donald Trump, a concerted and strategic social media arsenal was unleashed, one that the Democrats seem to have been wholly unprepared for.

How is that? While we (yes I’m one) were busy laughing at people who watch Fox News, a “network” whose news stories and celebrity-talking-heads have been debunked time and time again, the last laugh was on us.

“Fake News” became facts, and fears became fuel, and fools became leaders.

The new white house itself is proud of its reliance on “alternative facts,” which — although Twitter has had a ball with the notion — is scary as shit.

Many of us original bloggers (Y2K here) remember when Ev Williams started Blogger and began self-publishing around that time. When Ev started Twitter, I don’t think any one of us ever saw the future: A POTUS spreading fallacies and threats and rumors, and then drawing dangerous lines in the sand with enemies and allies alike, all in 140 characters or less.

How did a medium that once was, if anything, super honest and highly personal — with early bloggers and twitter users making themselves vulnerable and human in sharing from the gut — become a channel for hate, hyperbole and falsehoods?

The medium isn’t the message, folks. The messengers are.

In this case, the alt-right’s Bannon and company ran a brilliantly strategic social media campaign, complete with a literal paid island of young people manufacturing a digital arsenal of fake new stories that made them rich, along with paid trolls posted at every corner of every comment section that mattered.

Bannon thought of that. We didn’t.

Because at our core, liberals and progressives believe that no one would believe it, that people are intelligent enough to distinguish hyperbole and alternate facts from truth, and that in the end, we should believe the best about our fellow man, and that love should trump hate.

Boy were we wrong. DEAD wrong.

So, how should we take back social media? Can we? What would it take? Do we have to fight “fire with fire,” as Trump said last week about national security?

While I’m glad we are building an army of comedians like Alec Baldwin and the SNL cast, who is building our army of truth-tellers that can deprogram and sway a public that has already been captured by an army of trolls?

One sign of hope this week: the ALT-rogue twitter movement

When the National Parks twitter users were silenced by federal order, some brave rangers went rogue and launched their own “AltUSNatParkService” handle. Scientists (@ScienceMarchDC) who have been directed to run all findings through the new administration before publishing them have followed suit with a planned march on Washington and bevy of rogue twitter handles of their own.

Suddenly the Alt-ROGUE movement is rising up against the Alt-Right movement.

This week – I see it as our best hope.

But we’ll need more. A lot more.

Teens, Drama, Dollars

Had my first try at a long-form linkedin post today. we waited 13 years and blogging came right back around.

In Social Media, Size Suddenly Matters (OR: I guess it's not the motion of the ocean)

LinkedIn's opening up it's Long-Form publishing -- described as posts of "three or more paragraphs" -- while digital publishing boy genius Ev Williams goes after the "medium" market. This, after Ev got us into the babbling mode of 140-character communication in the first place, but only after he trained a dozen years ago to be wordy and prolific on his pioneering blogger.com platform.

It all leaves online publishers are wondering: what the heck do you want from us?

Short, medium, long? All of the above? And how are their best practices around length when performance is commonly measured through engagement? To engage, don't I have to connect? And if I'm all over the place spurting out 100-character tweets, medium-size mini book creations, 200-character status updates, and 5 paragraph missives, how can I actually have a conversation with you?

Answers will have to wait. Today, I have only questions. What do you think? Please respond with short, medium, and long-form tweets, posts, and updates if you feel so moved.

Georgia Goes High Tech with Email and Text Weather Alerts...

Apparently GEMA just realized such advanced technology was possible. Help. me.

Jeneane Dimino Sessum

Wow. they're going to send text alerts and emails now. what did they send previously - the stinkin pony express????? telegraphs???? "Don't worry yer purdy head; i'll fax the gubner in the morn."

"Effective immediately, a storm warning will trigger a message to cell phones in targeted areas, as in the Amber Alert system, and advise against road travel," said Deal. "We will go one step further with school superintendents by emailing them weather condition updates, so that they have the most up-to-date information when determining whether to close schools." 

11Alive

It's time for solutions. If you could sit down with Kasim Reed and Gov.Nathan Deal and suggest one real way to put us in a better position for the next winter storm: What would it be? You can read about plans already in place: http://on.11alive.com/1j7F5qa

Facebook post-mortem, from Facebook comments

Tony Pierce

Hey Mark Zuckerberg, maybe you should make it easier for relatives to have access to their fallen family members' FB accounts so they don't have to hope that their vids go viral to get your attention. People do die, you know.

My appeal to Facebook

youtube.com

We want to see my sons 1 min movie on fB

Like ·  · Share · 3 hours ago · 

• Mike Rodriquez and 8 others like this.
• 

  Jeneane Dimino Sessum they collect every other kind of information - ought to be a couple of check boxes for "other(s) who may access" - or emergency contact or something. I mean the dentist asks for that. can't bookface?

  44 minutes ago · Like · 1
• 

  Rob Lawrence Good idea. Some people might opt for "delete all my shit immediately upon (official) notice of my death". Others might specify " give access to this person and NOT that person."

  38 minutes ago · Unlike · 1
• 

  Jeneane Dimino Sessum I like that!

  31 minutes ago · Like
• 

  Jeneane Dimino Sessum [ ] Deactivate my acct and donate my images, videos, and posts to a the Internet Memorial (business model forthcoming)
  [ ] pay $___ to immortalize my profile on facebook - keep my FB page alive foreva: __ allow __ disallow comments
  [ ] Turn my private profile public 
  [ ] Turn my public profile private
  [ ] Send login information to my emergency contact at ______

  20 minutes ago · Like · 1

Smokescreen - my journey off cigarettes

In Smokescreen, I've combined blog posts from the four years during which I quit and started STAYING OFF cigarettes into a book for the Amazon Kindle! If you've ever chewed your nails off trying to NOT smoke, wish you never started smoking, hope one day you'll be able to smoke a magical cigarette made of nothing addictive and have a happily ever after, or know someone who needs to understand these things, GET the book!

My time

Air thick with algae and driftwood decaying, breeze light but crisp, the lapping of lake waves kept us company. 

The leather reins braided, playing loosely between my thumb and index finger. 

Into the water, hocks pumping, somehow we float, swim, snorting, then back to the beach. 

Down on two knees, a roll in the sand to scratch, wet mud in crevices cooling, the power of ages paws its way to standing. 

Back on, bareback gallop across familiar trails all the way home. 

Ya Down with OCD? (Ya you know me)

Mental Health Tip of the Day. 

I remember when a well-meaning family member told me that if i didn't stop tearing the skin off my fingers boys wouldn't want to hold my hand. 

I was 10. Maybe 11.

Of all the worst things you could tell a tween with anxiety and panic issues, this would be right up near the top of the list. 

Still. The advice was meant to be helpful. Probably motivating enough for the occasional picker. 

BUT I was not casual. I started tearing at my feet at 5 years old. To make the skin even. Peel a layer, another layer to even things out. Do the surgery on myself that could not save my father's life. All without knowing why. 

So If you have a 10 year old who is ripping their skin off in your own family, consider not saying this to them and instead suggesting some help for anxiety and OCD issues. They will do better with boys long term if they aren't living in a total hell of agonizing distress. 

Ya you know me!

Are you kidding me iPhone 5?

If anyone had told me that you would be able to speak a blog post into a phone I wouldn't have believed it. 

But that's exactly what I am doing. I am not sure how well this will work but if it does no one should have an excuse not to  blog. 

Dude, it works. 

This is a tired dumpster face

I

Day ? of dumpster cleanup, and I'm wondering why the bark collar on bando isn't working. Every time something goes kerbang into the dumpster he yowls his displeasure. 

We opted for the bark collar because at the apartment he suffers from both dementia and separation anxiety to go along with his OCD manifested in licking and scratching. All in all not bad for 93 and heart worm positive. 

ANYWAY that hundred dollar bark collar is going back to the store as soon as the 100 percent life sucking dumpster adventure is over. That was the point of this post. When you get a dumpster, the rest of your life must be put on hold to focus Utterly and completely on filling that dumpster. 

Today's dumpster fodder included an old litterbox that was hiding a black snake underneath. More boxes. Lids for things that no longer exist. Broken chair backs. LOTS of papers. Dust. Strapless purses moldy computer bags. Yum!

In a dumpster all things are equal. An accidental gold necklace is the same as a broken baby gate. Ashes to ashes. Dust to landfill. 

I took 150 pounds to goodwill today. The goodwill guy was happy to see me. He eyed my Disney tv and remote. I know who THATs going home with. 

George is calling me. Time to go haul another load. 

Travel light my friends. Travel light. 

the dumpster

We have, my husband and I, obtained a dumpster to try to get a handle on things. As you know, dumpsters are the Number 1 device for getting a handle on things.

We have the dumpster for 3 weeks, so that should allow quite a handle.

The last time we got a dumpster, the only thing that ended up going in was a king size bed - a bed I didn't really hate that much - and a bunch of empty boxes and wood to make it seem full. That wasn't much of a handle. It left me feeling depressed and incompetent of getting rid of stuff.

But this time we are ready to get rid of stuff.

stuff that is killing us.

so much stuff the house has expelled the people in it, mostly.

This time though, we are ready to get a handle on things, and we have spent hours so far trying, and together saying ONE TWO THREE, TOSS! hurling into the dumpster old desk drawers and bed frames and suit cases covered in cat hair and dust -- and I'm not so sure new species haven't evolved from the combination thereof.

meow-sneeze.

you really shouldn't have to go through so much to get a handle on things.

last night I thought the anaphylactic reaction I had from the cat hair and dust was going to send me to the ER. I could post a picture of my oozing eyes, but it's on my phone and I'm not sure how to beam it onto my old blogspot blog here. Plus it's really gross. It may keep you from ordering a dumpster, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for that.

There's so much more to do. but for the next three weeks I will allow myself to fool myself that the presence of the dumpster means we are getting a handle on things.

And I'll enjoy the days and nights of feeling the fooling notion that things are being handled. And I don't want to talk about what comes next.

Dear Internet: The more I read, the crazier I get

of course, the more I write the crazier i get

the more i work the crazier i get

the more i cook the crazier i get

the more i rest the crazier i get

the more i drive the crazier i get

and kind of like so on and so forth.

Dog years

The years leave me. I don't move through them; they pass through me. I notice friction of days cutting, the slicing and surging of minutes moving in and out. As I slow they mock me by rushing past. 

I have never been good with time. Early grief and loss left me without a sense of how long a long time is. Time felt heavy and expansive. Some seconds pregnant with lifetimes of despair. Some years gone painlessly, instantly. 

Time is best measured through the lives of dogs. I have lived five sequential dog lives. King (4-11), Henry (11-17), Jazz (22-32), Diva (30-42), Bando (above - 37-present). 

There have been overlaps and other dogs. Still are. Sophie and Ava are playing outside; Bando measures his days in car rides. But these Big Five dogs are my timepiece, my agenda, and my scrapbook. They have witnessed my undoings and my reconnections, my commotion and paralysis, their panting counting off the seconds like a ticking clock. 

As Bando's days churn by, we have begun to mark time the same way, one carpool at a time, one medication, one walk, one rest at a time. I don't need a watch or an alarm clock. We live the freedom of his waning days without measure. 

Smart post

A dozen years ago when I started blogging I never believed I'd post from my phone. That was before smart anything, and before all-you-can-eat long distance existed. We blog friends accumulated $600/month phone bills because we wanted to talk that badly. No text. No twitter. Posts were texting. Posts were tweets. And they were sonnets and love songs, duets and improv.

So here I am. In the doctors office waiting room. On a phone. Blogging. Like its nothing. Which is, for us from then, kind of what it has become.

these boots were made for walking all over your blog

It's like I fell asleep and the internet went on without me. Blogger grew up. Blog advertising came of age. There's even a widget to add google affiliate ads to posts. did i grow a beard while i was asleep? maybe so. menopause. you know the drill.

for now, though, I'll be kickin it old school with some new school just for kicks.

Losing our sense of urgency

We used to be more urgent than the Internet.

A dozen years ago, you would find many a netizen rushing home from work to get online so they could connect with friends, read the latest posts and comments, check their personal email for ezines, or jump on a discussion list. A few of us could sneak a peek at work, but not many. Corporate firewalls were sealed tight, and applications were sturdy and strict pieces of software, not fun three-letter words you can run on a phone.

That lacking begot urgency.

We were faster than the flow of information.

We rode data; data didn't ride us.

Because the enterprise and the personprise were still individuated -- no BYOD, rare instances of telecommuting, and certainly no blogging from work -- we had to expend a great deal of effort just to connect. We sought content; content didn't seek us.

And here we are now, streams and feeds 24/7, an enmeshment of who we are wherever we are, with information following us. Worries of Big Brother replaced by Big Data - what do we do with all of the digital stuff assaulting us, and how do we keep up with our friends.

What is the ratio between interesting things that would be cool to know more about vs. how my friends are feeling--are they hurting? Getting married? Have a new job?  Should I have to go to three different social networks to find out? Times how many friends? And what is the likelihood I'll give up before I find out, distracted instead with the guy who feel 24 miles from space.

We are fat with content now; we are lean with empathy.

But we can't turn back. I'm not sure anyone would really want to. And I don't have the answer yet. George Girton says I should try App.net - something you pay a little bit for so you don't have to deal with ads and have control of your feed. Maybe. But gosh I don't need another place to go, or barrage of information to dodge.

The great enablers of technology are the ones who solve problems like this.  When we had all of the information and no way to find it, Google came. Now that we have all of this information and no way to parse it, I don't know what will come. But something will. Analytics is taking care of the dilemma for the enterprise.

But can analytics scale down? Can it draw meaning from micro-personal information as well as it handles big data?

Now that everything we need to know is out there, how do we visualize toward empathy? How do we make meaning?

when she turned 5, the blogosphere sent presents. now she's 15 and the blogosphere should send me some redbull.

down and up

a guy free-fell 24 miles from space today. More than 127,000 feet. He broke the speed of sound. michael o'connor clarke would have dug this. I hope he got a view of it. :-)

digital breadcrumbs for michael o'connor clarke

I've been thinking about you all day, Michael all day.

I even went to mass because I felt, well, if it could add in any tiny way to the comfort being sent to Leona from all parts of the globe, then I should do it.

Michael, I went for you too. You see, you would be one of the few who could get me in the doors. Can you see me? Standing outside, wondering, having never been to this church, hardly to any church in recent memory, would the side doors lead me awkwardly into the midst of communion lines? Then what would I do? Stick out my hand and say "Amen"? Michael sent me?

It took me a minute to make my way in. Would I remember the responses? Did you know some of them have CHANGED? Yes, for real. They don't say "It is right to give Him thanks and praise" anymore - at least not at this church; they say something else, I think, "It is right and just"?

Today I didn't feel like it was right or just. I felt like nothing made sense.

But in that not-making-sense-ness, I felt you poking my shoulder, poke poke, as I stood in the back. You  tried to get me to laugh. I couldn't help it. I did smile.

I didn't make it to the end, but I did stay through the part where all 200 of us prayed for those family and friends who had died. And so I prayed for you. And I stayed for the "peace be with you" part, and shook some people's hands for you and Leona.

If only you would have stopped nudging me so I could have stopped giggling.

me and my blog brother:

• guess who came to lunch
• billability
• global boiling
• in case you're wondering
• michael starts blogsprogs
• more on blogsprogs
• lilting kersplosions
• rauri's breakfast lol (in comments)
• Google is the new CNN

remembering michael o'connor clarke

• goodbye for now, from me
• trafcom news
• missing michael - AKMA
• aerin guy
• connie crosby
• joey devilla
• david weinberger
• unsweetened
• Suw Charman-Anderson
• Doc Searls

some of my favs from michael...

• Flackster on corante
• five things you don't know about me
• peaks of cluelessness
• professional testimonials 
• social media WTF? 
• more online media reflections
• first posts - 2001
• poem - on the walk home
• Ruairi turns 1

I hope that Michael's  blogs are preserved - so many great ideas, so much he contributed.

SUPPORT MICHAEL O'CONNOR CLARKE.

 In that, goodness is like love. Not an exchange of market value for a fungible resource; not a path for earning something desired, and certainly not a way to avoid being punished by an icy-hearted magistrate. Goodness earns nothing. Goodness gives good. --AKMA