That's jive, brother!

  Oh. My. God!

  I have just had an Internet invocation success of unprecedented magnitude. And it had nothing to do with any of my specific invocation entries, or subjects. Remember back, gee whiz, was it the beginning of November? I had just pissed off Chasing Moksha on the AOL journals message board, by politely asking her to stop spamming, and she had just sent me a profanity riddled e-mail... ah, good times. And, in the midst of drama, hip deep, in the AOL Journals community, I posted this entry: Paul's Awards Show. Today, in the comments section, appeared... oh hell, just go look.
  Yes, a former member of the Jive Kings, bassist Deryl Gallant dropped by to say hello. I know, I didn't actually mention Deryl by name, but come on! I mentioned his former band's name. That's gotta count.
  I asked Deryl what brought him by Aurora Walking Vacation. He replied, "as almost any band I've ever been in I'm self admittedly "our biggest fan" and so still occasionaly I go to google and type "Jive Kings" out of curiosity and it has led me to some of the most interesting things...like yours....pretty cool...." Thanks for dropping by, Deryl.
  I'm still waiting to hear from Mark Hamill.

   Friday, August 12, 2005. 10:00pm. This entry has been re-edited as a test of the ego surfing phenomenon. Results will be posted in a new entry if and when they occur.

Weekend assignment #45

  It is that time again. It is the weekend, when all good AOL bloggers scurry over to The Blogfather's to participate in The Weekend Assignment.


Weekend Assignment #45: It's karaoke time. Pick a song to sing and explain why you chose it. Note that not everyone sings the song you expect them to sing: I remember being at a karaoke bar one time and watching a six-foot bald guy with a gravelly voice and a tattoo on his neck sing Olivia Newton John's "Have You Never Been Mellow?" And it was brilliant. So by all means, reach for the stars here. This isn't American Idol.


  Ok. Pick a song, any song, any song at all. It doesn't really matter which song you pick. It can be anything. Think of the most difficult song there is to sing. The most challenging aria for human vocal chords. How about Bohemian Rhapsody? All parts. With multi-voice harmonies. No problem. Something from the three tenors, you say? Absolutely. Something that requires Australian Aboriginal circular breathing? Come on, you're not even trying.
  You see, it doesn't matter which song you choose. I can turn them all down with the same level of quiet determination. "No," is the easiest word in the English language to say, and when it comes to singing, I've pretty much got saying "No" mastered.
  It's not that I don't like singing. I love music. I love the idea of singing. I decline, in deference to those around me, because they, absolutely, positively, do not want to hear me singing. More on that in the extra credit section...


Extra Credit: Recall the worst karaoke performance you ever heard (or, if you're brave, ever performed). You can change the names to protect the guilty if you like.


  The potential worst Karaoke performance ever, in the history of the universe, has not happened, and will never happen. I refuse to inflict that kind of punishment on this reality. I mean, it would be like two identical particles of matter and anti-matter coming together on Star Trek: the end of life as we know it.
  John talks about choosing a specific song because it falls within his vocal range. With me, when it comes to singing, my vocal range is keeping my damn mouth shut. When I sing in the shower, the water stops coming out. When I sing in the car, the radio turns itself off. And we all know that I've never serenaded my wife, because, well, because I still have a wife. I have a really, really bad voice. Just one of those unfortunate realities I've learned to live with. You know, along with the huge- Nevermind.

This is how rumours start.

There's an old person hidden inside each of us.

Paul: I gotta tell you, I'm a little bit worried. Remember when I wrote that journal entry last week about the smelly farts? I said they were old people farts. Well, what if I have old people farts because I'm becoming an old person?

Andern Sieego: Well, my friend, let me explain it to you. There is an old person inside each and every one of us. He or she is there from the beginning, right from birth, just waiting for the opportunity to come out. It is kind of like that movie, Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. We are all just like those alien pods, incubating an old person.

Paul: That sounds yucky! How do you know if an old person is coming out and taking control?

Andern Sieego: There are several telltale warning signs. Do you find yourself complaining that people drive too fast on the highways?

Paul: Ummm, sometimes.

Andern Sieego: Mmm, hmm. And what about spicy food?

Paul: I love spicy food.

Andern Sieego: And after you eat it?

Paul: Oh. Well. Let's just say I don't stray too far from home afterwards

Andern Sieego: I see. And pants?

Paul: Pants? What do you mean, pants? I don't understand the question. There's nothing to talk about pants. Pants are fine. Just because the stupid clothing manufacturers have changed their patterns so that pants don't fit properly anymore is no reason to question me over pants, OK?

Andern Sieego: All right. Calm down. Do not get excited.

Paul: Excited! I'm not excited! I don't need to calm down! Don't talk to me about calming down. And why shouldn't I be excited anyway? In the face of a worldwide government conspiracy to put clothing manufacturing standards into the toilet, we should all be a little excited! Pants used to fit around the waist. They used to sit on the hips. look at these things! They don't make pants that'll sit on your hips anymore.

Andern Sieego: Let us move on.

Paul: So what were those warning signs you were going to tell me about?

Andern Sieego: Hmm. Well, beyond the beginning symptoms I touched upon, the more serious signs manifest themselves in denial. For example, you remember when your friend Tom came over the other day? You asked him if he had been working out, if he had lost weight?

Paul: Yes.

Andern Sieego: (whispers) Grecian Formula.

Paul: No!

Andern Sieego: Oh, and see that gentleman over there? What is he driving?

Paul: Porsche Boxter?

Andern Sieego: Exactly. Take a look over there. See that woman in the gold lame stretch pants, with the bad blonde dye job, and way too much make-up? Need I say more?

Paul: I get it, I get it. What about me then? Do you think I'm in danger of becoming an old person before my time?

Andern Sieego: Well, let me see. Do you own any Eminem albums?

Paul: Yes.

Andern Sieego: Mmm. What about Linkin Park albums?

Paul: Yes.

Andern Sieego: Oooh! You recently had your annual physical examination, did you not? Did the doctor perform a prostate exam?

Paul: What, the old finger up the butt thing? No, she said she won't start doing that until I'm forty-five.

Andern Sieego: Ah, that is good news. Enjoy your youth, my friend, you have a mere five years left.

Identity obfuscation. Why?

  What is the appeal of keeping up several identities on the web? Here on AOL, I can have as many as seven screen names. Well, I have one, my wife has one, my son has one... If I wanted, I could have four more for myself.
  A few years ago, I regularly maintained two, and dabbled with a third, but the appeal grew cold. Today, I use one screen name. I still have those other two set up, but I'm not sure that I can remember the passwords to them.
  I just don't understand what drives a person to maintain several screen names at once, or to keep changing their screen name over and over. Is it a simple case of moving on once one has burned too many bridges? Once you've pissed off enough people, you need to come up with a new name because too many people are no longer accepting e-mails from you? Somebody enlighten me.
  Is this an AOL thing, or does it happen out on the larger world wide web? Do people flip through hotmail addresses the same way they do AOL screen names? These day I prefer to work under one single screen name for everything I do online. If I piss someone off and they decide to block my e-mails, so be it. I'm not going to make up a new e-mail address just to go on harassing them with impunity. It just isn't that important. But then again, I'm not a teenager any more, either. In two weeks I'll be forty. I guess at some point the kiddie games become old.
  Plus, I can't think of a single thing I might do or say that I'd like to disown. If I'm going to express an opinion, I want you to know it's coming from me, not some anonymous Internet mask wearer. If you don't like it, fine. That is your prerogative. If you want to tell me so, fine. I'm not hiding behind a fake identity. E-mail addresses I have blocked: zero. Screen names I have blocked from commenting in my journal: zero. Sure, I might delete your comment, and report your ass if it contravenes TOS guidelines, but comment away. I'm not afraid of what anyone has to say.

edit: Ok, so I lied. I do remember the passwords for them, because they're the same as the password for this one. I use the ftp space of them to post family photos for my relatives to retrieve. I do not use them to post to message boards or send e-mail. If I'm sending you an e-mail, you're gonna know who it's from.

A fix

I haven't posted any pictures of Shadow in a while. Here, get your fix.

Error messages

  John has pointed out Atom Smasher's Error Message Generator. Lots of silly fun to be had. Here are some error messages the folks around AOL J-land probably wish were installed on my computer.

 

My sign

No, I don't know what it means. It's Australian, or something. Those upside down guys are practically on another planet.

I'm Will Turner

Which Pirates of the Caribbean character are you?

I apologise most sincerely for this lapse in judgement. We now return you to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Blog jog today

  Anonymousbadge is a police officer with a unique view of the job. I recommend you read her. A recent entry of hers takes us to the logical conclusion of the road rage entry I wrote the other day.

  Simian Farmer is an engineer (no, not the kind that wears a striped hat). He is also one of the biggest Star Wars geeks (um, I mean fans) I know.

  Kelly, of Byzantium's Shores, holds the dubious honour of putting the words Buffalo and Blog together in a sentence more often than any other man. No, I don't know why either. He has also decided to attempt The Scalzi Gambit, in that he has taken a novel he wrote and posted it on the Internet. It worked for John. Best of luck, Jaq.
(thanks for the grammar assistance, Karen)

  Rebecca was recently seen wearing pink. Apparently this is cause for raised eyebrows. Someone check the temperature of hell, will you? No, wait, it's something more important than that: she and her mother are exploring the meaning of the word survivor. I don't believe there is a desert island involved.

Lahoma was MIA for a while. She's back.

  If you're not on here it doesn't mean a thing. I read about thirty or forty blogs regularly. These are just the ones that happened to have an entry that caught my interest over the last couple of days.