today in outermost blogistan

[click image, via BB2]

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I'm linking this piece BB2 mentioned in the comments because a ton of people only ever follow this blog via the feed on their readers. I can see how that would be easier for some people, for busy or forgetful people, but you really do miss a lot on blogs when you do it that way... especially since so frequently what I have to say about something involves noting the labels I put on posts. Those don't show up on the feed. Neither do the comments. Neither does the sidebar. I put new quotes in the sidebar when they strike me they're worth contemplating. I add and change out links and images there too. Plus, people are finding it handier to go to the label "cloud" now at the very bottom of my page when they want to find stuff about a certain country or subject.

It occurs to me that someone could spend many, many days coming up to speed on what's actually taken place in the world if they worked all the clickable things here. I mean, mox nix, I guess, because I'm glad you bother your eyeprints with what I have to say, but, well, just sayin'....
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As for this Drill Baby Drill crap, I hardly want to go there. I had the duty of defending refineries for a large chunk of my life. On the one hand, it wasn't as bad as you might think, because refineries get sued for a lot of stuff that is completely not their fault, but on the other, OMG, what a drag. My very FIRST experience with the internet was in, I think, 1990, and it involved researching the toxicity of the drilling muds they use/produce on these rigs. It is outright TERRIFYING stuff—don't think that because you are still alive you haven't been killed grotesquely by this stuff—no, really. I dropped into the void at the Environmental Protection Agency for about 18 hours, most of which were not billable, because I just couldn't tear myself away from the deepening horror of each click. Even when these rigs don't blow up, their lethality is beyond the pale, beyond anything any reasonable person would call semi-sane. There IS no benefit to humanity that can compensate for it.

Period.

That experience put me off the internet for another fifteen years. It's more horrifying now. I think, really, it's a testament to a measure of Zen realization that gave me the moxie to come back at all. So, I really GET it how you can be too wimpy to FACE this stuff... but we just HAVE to... or we're dead. I'm here to help.

I can't MAKE you see. I can only just be here for you if you WANT to see. You can't fake that.

No one can fake that.
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No, no. That was my SECOND experience with the internet. The first one was in 1989 researching Reggie Jackson's collection of collectables, particularly the muscle car thing, but all of it. He had warehouses full of this crap and I had to get to the bottom of what all of it was and how much it was really worth because his insurance company was having kittens about how much he wanted for the fire that brought down one of those warehouses.

The best part of that one was going to a big deal car auction and meeting some of the maniacs from around the country whose lives revolve around this stuff. Outrageous amounts of money were being slung around that day, and no wonder the insurance company was freaking, but I ended up with this hick dressed in his finest overalls for this big day. He thought I was THE most sophisticated babe he'd never even dreamed of, and I ended up giving him a tour of the Bay Area he will NEVER forget.

So. Sorry. Had a senior moment there.
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Okay, okay, NOW, I've stuck myself trying to nail down the exact years for this stuff. I'm thinking the drilling muds flip-out may have been in 1989 and the muscle car thing in 1988... and then I can't get my fingers around when exactly it was I started dicking around on Scott's AOL account when I housesat for them. And, THEN, and I do realize I'm beginning to sound like the Keith Carradine character in Choose Me, but I'm pretty sure I was managing the law firm representing the fraud artist fundamentalists who put up an outbuilding for the first servers in what was to become AOL. I'm thinking this because I remember feeling it was a filthy thing for guys like that to boast anything connected to America... but I might be mistaken... and I'm thinking that must have been in 1983 or so... about the same time as I was drilling that bozo I mentioned the other day, trying and, evidently, failing to teach him how to ride... or would that have been 1982?

It's all turning into a blur, so I'm going to give up on my little impersonation of exactitude and have faith that you get the drift.
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