Thursday, September 8, 2016

Regulation of Twittomanic Paper - Famous Work by Einstein

Right away you know it's bullshit as Twitter would have been quite sufficient to kill any motivation Einstein ever had and he would have spent his life making crap ass techno music.

Twittomanic behavior is the scourge of the New Age because its only justification for existence is, well, at least I'm not jerking off, Mom.

Son, your first problem is why your mother gives a shit about your filthy, evil, vile jerk off habits.

It comes to my attention that maybe, just maybe, there's been a bit of Twittomanic behavior here at the Rockhouse.  Now, making the wild assumption that hypothetical is valid, I can see Drill Sergeant Harvey, now sixty-feet tall but still with the brain of a peanut.  He screams to all the world, "For Christ's sake, Scarborough.  Grab a fistful of Kleenex and take it to the lah-trine, Private!"

Note:  he really did say that to the company one day as 'sure you miss Mary Jane Rattenkratsch but you can solve that problem with a fistful of Kleenex.'  (That's not verbatim but not too far off.  I tend to remember movies more than drill sergeants.)


There's a magic line in life where one may think, 'Sure, I could try that.  Maybe it works, maybe it doesn't.  All in all, you know what.  I couldn't be fuckin' bothered.'

Hence, Twittomanic behavior (larfs).


(Ed:  are you seriously going to Freud this?)

See, there you go, sucking the life out of the parade again!


Twittomanic behavior really frosts the Facebookers but mostly they're pissed off anyway and this is materializing as one of the hallmarks of white people:  always pissed off about something.

Bro 1:  say there, bro.  Let me tell you about something that's really been pissing me off!

Bro 2:  fucking why?  Do I look like I took time out of my busy day to hear you talking some angry shit just because you don't have any Kleenex?  Now I'm pissed off too.

Bro 1:  cool.  Now we can be pissed off together.  It somehow makes me feel, um, whiter.


Bro 1:  by God, we'll kill those fucking Muslims!

Bro 2:  I only know one Muslim well and I liked him.  Are you going to kill him?

Bro 1:  dunno, let me write down his name.

Bro 2:  does that mean you will help him or wax him?

Gary Johnson:  where's Aleppo?


Perhaps you judge those little ditties as meaningless and maybe they are but if they were split out into Tweets that would have been nearly a dozen which translates into multiple annoyed messages on Facebook.  One of the most annoyed will be Cat because she doesn't use FB much so when she does she gets a snowstorm of notifications from me and rarely are any of them directed specifically to her but FB makes it seems like they were because:  stupid software.

(Ed:  is there any other kind than annoyed message on Facebook?)

Yes, Pink sees multiple sides to things and that's always interesting.  It's also rare.  Neither of us is some Roger Dodger Physicist but there's inquisitiveness which can be cool or it can be Alex Jones.  The Pink type is much more interesting plus the cat spent years in nuke subs.  Fark.  They're the most secretive of the secretive as you can't pull that Navy SEAL stuff with books on Amazon when you're in the sub service or you ever were.  Dunno what happens but they never do it.

Note:  I've known him for longer than anyone else with whom I have any regular contact and that goes back to sixth grade.  There was a gulf in-between but then the find and hopefully the changes in me are as interesting to him as the changes he picked up along the way.


Summing it, Twittomania is useless and accomplishes nothing.  Increased bloggerizing is likely but relief is a scroll away.  Mystery Lady is right about scattered focus and my mind may seem blown but it does not seem that way here.  We were talking and discovered some unusual black holes in my memory but, on the whole, when I reach for information I believe I know, it's there.  One of the most obvious gaps to me is in movie trivia because mountains of it are tucked away and there's the awkward phenomenon of 'I know I know this ... but it's not there.'

That's disconcerting but only insofar as it's indicative of mileage.  I don't see anything more concerning than that in it.  I check dictionaries more before I use a word for which there may be even a small question and I like that I can easily do that without even reaching for a book.


Continuing the theme of abandoning Twittomania is an article on Calais but the emotion I feel is not anger even though discussion of the topic may elicit anger in others.  For Twittomatic, fire the line and sparks will fly up where they may.  Conversely, write the article and perhaps it becomes clear.


There is some concern about Buspirone (BUSPAR) as my first judgment was this stuff is placebo, don't do nothing.  After validation, the nurse said, "You're only taking half the dose, lovey.  It reads twice a day."

Note:  no, she didn't say that except for the dose.

I find in taking that schedule a subtle effect came from it and shortly after it was a customary part of the day.  It's definitely doing something and part of the desired effect is slowing down the carousel.  It constantly spins with thoughts, potential articles, musical snippets, etc, etc and that can become a whirlwind or a fascinating sequence from "Fantasia" with speed of presentation the primary variable.

That circumstance is only slightly exacerbated by stimulants (e.g. caffeine, nicotine) as it starts the moment my eyes are open.  I don't get that groggy time coffee drinkers take to 'start up' as I'm already there, tapping my foot, and ready to go.  Unknown why but I know it's not all that unusual.

Buspirone affects that and in a positive although nebulous way but there may be more subtle effect and it's concerning due to how quickly that became habituated.  I've seen nothing to indicate potential problems with this drug but it's easier to addict me to something than to hook a squirrel on acorns so more questions to come.

I like being a wild-eyed lunatic but only to a point as it's too scary to go all-out Woody Harrelson.  Nobody does crazy better than he.

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