Disturbing

(First, let me point out that this is not really political, so technically I'm not already breaking my psuedo-resolution to kinda-sorta avoid political postings on this blog for a while.  Technically. (g) Or maybe I'm just fooling myself!)

In UK, Twitter, Facebook rants land some in jail.

(Ok, so it's not new news, since some of the examples are years old, but...)

I don't respect the content of the messages that are putting these people in hot water-- and even joking about bombing an airport, these days, is possibly criminally stupid-- but this is a fine example of the Slippery Slope.

The thing that occurs to me (and that I didn't see mentioned in the article in my brief scan) is that people on Twitter and Facebook only see the comments of people they choose to follow*.  So... if people see something they don't like, why can't they just unfollow/unfriend them?!  (Everyone's done it, whether because someone tweets too much or has "said" one thing too many that has grated on your nerves.)

I guess my (fuzzy, unclear) point here is that these people's outrageous remarks are probably just attempts to get attention.  You want to monitor their further online interactions to make sure there's no legitimate reason to suspect that it's leading up to some criminal/terrorist action?  Fine and good.  But what harm are they doing, really?  Who are we protecting by taking these "dangerous criminals" off the Internet?  Is there room in the UK's jails for every idiot who says something stupid online?  Does anyone really believe they are threats, or is it more a matter of preventing offensive commentary?  If the average person sees the garbage they post/tweet and duly clicks "unfollow", doesn't the situation take care of itself?  Do TPTB in the UK not trust people to make their own judgement calls? 


* Well, I'm assuming about Facebook, since I don't actually use it.  And for Twitter, if you search a subject or click a trending topic, you can see tweets from anyone and everyone-- but you have to make the decision to do so, and when you do, you're almost guaranteed to see something that offends or annoys you.  Clicker beware!

My "First World Problem"?

So, I know you're really interested in this...  It turns out that my "first world problem" (of the moment, at least) is the phrase "first world problem".

I doubt I could put together a strong argument for why I dislike it, but it just... irks me.

It reminds me of a teacher I had in elementary school who (at least once) chided a student (honestly can't remember if it was me or someone else) for saying s/he was "starving", before lunch.  She thought it was flippant and wrong to use the word "starving" to mean "hungry" when there were people out there really, truly starving.  Now, I understand what she meant-- and I guess her lesson worked on me, at least, because I don't think I ever say that I'm starving... But I don't know... I'm sure that the kid she "corrected" meant no harm, and I have some bad memories of adults coming down a little too hard on sensitive kids for saying/doing something harmless/without understanding that it could be taken the wrong way.  They don't realize how long those things stick with a person and the bad taste it leaves in your mouth, being made to feel guilty for something when you scarcely understand why.  (And yet I'll probably still do the same thing in my own interactions with children; it seems difficult to avoid, when you're trying to teach them how to behave and present themselves in society.  Oh well.)

Hm.  I got off on a tangent, there.  (g)

Back to my annoying elaboration on why I find "first world problems" irritating.

By the logic of "FWP" ("first world problems"), no-one should ever complain about anything, EVER, because, trust us, someone has had it worse.  While I agree that many of us ought to complain less about small problems-- make a joyful noise instead-- it's human nature to complain (for some, a larger part of our natures than for others).  It's one thing to be aware (and thankful) that you were fortunate enough to be born in a wealthy nation, to have had parents who took good care of you, to not have to worry about whether you'll have enough to eat tonight.  It's another to obsess about it to the point that you can't make an everyday comment on something that's frustrating you in your daily life without feeling that you have to put a disclaimer at the end of it.

Some people use FWP as some sort of excuse to make themselves feel better (I guess?) about themselves.  "Yeah, I'm complaining about relatively small problems in my average-to-luxurious life, but I'm gonna put this 'first world problem' tag right here at the beginning or end of my complaint so that you'll know that I know that it's not really a big deal, and I should totally be happy to have this sort of problem... to sort of assuage my guilt about posting about it to begin with... Mmkay?"  

Yes, we know that when the grocery store stops carrying our favorite kind of chicken burritos, it's nowhere near the same level of problem faced by someone with a serious medical problem.  (Hint: That's why we never said it was the same sort of thing.)  But what kind of life is it if you have to feel guilty about commenting on any problem that isn't life-threatening?  Personally, I hate walking on eggshells.  If your problem is so trivial, perhaps you should reconsider writing about it in the first place.  Or go ahead and do write about it, like I am now.  Just don't make me watch you take a self-inflicted FWP guilt-trip in addition to reading your complaints. 

I wonder if people who frequently use the FWP tag are judging others who don't do so.  "That Michael is such a spoiled first-worlder.  Writing a whole blog entry about how hard it was to choose a vacuum cleaner from the eleventy-billion models available on-line!   She doesn't know how lucky she is!"  Would the handy-dandy FWP stamp redeem me, in their eyes?  ;o)  (No.  At this point, I know I am completely, utterly lost, as far as they're concerned.  Well, I would be if they were even reading this, which I trust they are not, since hardly anyone does.)

Most of the time I see people using it in a joking way.  I may even have thought it was funny the first time I saw it, but now?  It's been done to death, so please, find a new meme. 

(Note:  I've almost never seen anyone use FWP against someone else, though apparently some do, or have in the past.  That would be infuriating and well-deserving of a virtual smack-down.  No, it's bad enough when people use it-- somewhat jokingly-- as a commentary on something they themselves have just written.)

...On the other hand, in the grand scheme of things, it's not much to complain about.  Especially not while there are still people out there using the disgusting "FML" tag for every little irritant under the sun.  Out of cereal?  FML!  Broke a nail?  FML!   It's just wrong.

Whew!  ...Ok.  I'm all whined out!

...And yes, I know that being annoyed by irritatingly over-used "catch phrases" is such a First World Problem.

ETA:
I would be remiss if I didn't also mention that I cannot stand the modern, slangy (over)usage of the word "epic" (frequently presented in EPIC all-caps).  It seems like it is finally, mercifully fading in popularity, but for a while there, my eyes were at risk of a serious strain from all the violent rolling.

Facebook = :'- (

"Author Says Facebook Is Making Us Miserable".
(What have I been saying-- to myself, if not others?)

"Facebook is making us unhappy by making everyone else look really, really happy."

Author Daniel Gulati blogs for Harvard Business Review.  He says all that shared information is creating a subconscious "ranking" among friends as our curated selves broadcast online are compared in real life. 

"Facebook is bringing down a lot of people's daily sense of well-being."  

Well, that's a big part (not all of it, but a very big part) of why I deleted my personal Facebook account.

I realize that it sounds kind of namby-pamby-- if not downright pathetic-- to admit that you start to feel a little dissatisfied with your own life just because Facebook makes it seem like everyone else on the bloomin' planet is thoroughly fulfilled, living up to every potential, happy-happy, 100% perfect (or at least Better Than You), and generally peachy-keen, but to tell the truth, I noticed that every time I visited the site, I came away feeling a degree or two sadder... discontented... somehow deflated. (So maybe I am namby-pamby.  Oh well.)

Anyway, it's always nice to find another Facebook decrier.  ;o)

P.S. If you love Facebook, I have nothing against you personally.  I just secretly hope for the day when your favorite social media site goes up in flames. :o)  On to the next thing!

For Posterity

Read this morning (on Twitter) that "government to receive archive of every tweet ever sent".  I didn't bother to click the link to read the full story, but when have I ever let a piffling little detail like that stop me from reacting/commenting?


First reaction:  Well, that's creepy...

Second reaction:  *thinking back over what I tweeted, back when I actually tweeted, wondering if there was anything incriminating or otherwise potentially damning in the eyes of The Government...*

Third reaction:  Of course, this isn't really news, is it?  I thought we already knew that the Library of Congress was going to archive all tweets (or something like that...).  Also, I'm writing a blog.  On the Internet.  If "They" are interested, they already have access to plenty of information about me.  (I don't actually believe they are that interested, at the moment.  Just to show that I have no delusions of grandeur.)

Fourth reaction:  Wow. If they're keeping these tweets "for posterity", everyone in the future will know exactly how stupid, spoiled, and disgusting so many of our contemporaries are.  (Were?  Whatever.)  There'll be no denying it, now...

Just Don't Get It: Moustache Edition

Ok, admittedly, I'm not always usually ever the first to know about the latest fads.  However, often I can at least more or less "get" them and their appeal.  Cupcakes?  Owls?  Nyan Cat?  Sure, those are fine.  I can see how they might've become popular.  (I even like all three of those.)  This fake moustache craze that's been going on for years (?), though, I just don't get. 

How did this fake moustache thing even get started?  Does anyone know? All I know is that I've been seeing them with increasing regularity over the past year or so, and I think they're kind of gross.  Yeah, that's right, I said it. ;o)  Call me an old fuddy-duddy, but I'm not a fan.  (Some) real moustaches are ok, as long as they aren't hideous.  (If you aren't sure whether or not your moustache is hideous, please ask a trusted friend.  Either that or embrace the hideousness and try not to be offended when people look away with an ill-concealed expression of disgust... and possibly a little fear.) 

Again, to restate:
Real, non-hideous moustaches? Ok. 
Fake ones?  Popping up everywhere?  Next fad, please!

Attack of the Online Acquaintance Body Snatchers

(I don't write much, here, anymore, though I'm still slightly more active on the reading, photography, and crochet blogs.  [Too many blogs.]  But that's ok.  This blog doesn't cost me anything to keep open, and I like having a place to post when the mood does strike me.)

I just had the weird and unpleasant-- but not unusual-- experience of realizing how different some people are from myself.  I mean, I know (surprisingly enough) that many people have vastly different opinions from my own, but (possibly because I don't interact face-to-face with a variety of them on a daily basis) I tend to... well, not forget it, exactly... but at least sometimes not devote a lot of thought to it.  Maybe it's more accurate to say that I begin to think that I can always immediately tell like-minded people from the rest. 

If I'm not always aware of where people in my "real life" stand on big issues, I'm even less familiar with my Internet acquaintances' stances.  Maybe it's just that with most people I interact with/"follow" (on social networking sites, blogs, etc.) online, I'm rarely confronted with their opinions on serious topics.  They chat about hobbies and pets.  I post photos of crochet projects and autumn leaves.  When we interact, it's usually about very light stuff, and it's always friendly.

And then I read a tweet or something that throws me for a loop.   

Oh.  I didn't know CraftyGal465 was one of them.  It's a shock when CrochetPumpkin23, that sweet-seeming person who makes doggy sweaters and donates preemie hats to the local hospital starts tossing around terms like "teabaggers".  When ArtsyFartsyL@dy refers to a relative as "god-loving" like it's a bad thing, I'm slightly stunned.

It's a little like finding out your casual friendly acquaintance has been body-snatched by the pod people.  Surprise!  These people think your beliefs are stupid!  Hey, look!  They're pointing and laughing at people like you!  If they knew what you believe in-- politically, spiritually-- they'd think you an imbecile!

Silly, I know, but there it is...

There's a certain illusion of familiarity in so many Internet-based relationships.  It's probably better that way, for most of them.  You know what they say about politics, religion, and money.   (Says the person who frequently expresses political opinions on this blog.)

"Hey, We Noticed You Looking At..."

Hey, Amazon.com! 

I noticed you noticed we were looking at cordless phones, and I thought you might be interested to know that we actually bought one from you... just a few days ago.  So, no, we are not currently planning to buy another cordless phone, even though this is the second time in two days you have e-mailed us about them. 

Sincerely,
Me

P.S. Some people might think it's kind of creepy if you e-mail them saying you "noticed" their shopping habits.  (I may or may not be one of them.)  Sure, they know that you're an online business and keep track of that kind of thing, but we tend not to think about it on a daily basis, and when it's blatantly pointed out to us, it feels weird, like some guy's been following us around while we shop, taking note of what brand of cereal and shampoo we buy. Alright, occasionally we find it useful, like when we can just click on one of the "recently viewed" objects on the home page, rather that having to search for it all over again.  However, this is not the first time you have suggested that I might be interested in something I have just purchased from you.  Food for thought. 

The Internets Are Creepy

(And often annoying.  But I'm resisting the urge to write about that today.  Well, except for that little thing about Grooveshark, but that doesn't count, because it's not what's really annoying me online right now.)

Yesterday I uploaded that video snippet of Trixie playing with the Nylabones, and I mentioned the brand name in the description (both on YouTube and here in this blog).  Well, this morning I noticed that a third entity (not YouTube, not Blogger-- somewhere I definitely didn't post or mention the video or Nylabone at all) recommended that I "follow" Nylabone.  Coincidence, or somehow linked to yesterday's activities online?  I don't really like these creepy little reminders of how much the Internet probably knows about us all.

(And yet here I am, "feeding" it even more information. Oh well. (g))

Typical

Ugh!
Two days after I start using Grooveshark to put a music widget on this blog, they appear to have disabled that feature.  Man, do I have great timing, or what? 

Maybe this is temporary... Otherwise, annoyance.

"Recipe for Tomato Catsup"

A few months ago, Donald was looking at an old (published in 1821) book we have-- Practical Observations on Cold and Warm Bathing; and Descriptive Notices of Watering Places in Britain by James Millar, M.D. (Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, and Lecturer on Natural History and Chemistry).  He found this recipe written in pencil on one of the flyleaves.

Here's a transcript, to the best of my ability to decipher the handwriting:

Recipe for Tomato Catsup

from the American Gardener of 1826. --

Take a quantity of ripe Tomatoes (say 2 gallons)
cut them in small pieces, put them in a clean
earthen pot or jar, about half a pound of salt, a table
spoonful of alspice, the same quantity of pepper
and a quarter an ounce of mace; tie the jar
up close, put it in an oven after the Bread has
been taken out, and let it stand all night, and
reheat it three times when you make bread;
Then strain it and bottle it up.  This is much better
than Mushroom Catsup for all culinary purposes.

Donald thought this was interesting-- especially that it was probably jotted down back when tomato ketchup was still something of an innovation-- so he's been telling me I need to blog it.  (See?  I'm doing it! (g))

After taking the time to carefully wrangle out the words from that sometimes faint handwriting, I thought, "Hey, why don't I google 'catsup' and 'american gardener'?"  It was a brilliant idea.  Too bad I didn't think of it at the beginning of the blog entry.  I could've saved myself a little trouble.  Yes, that's right.  Look what I found at Google Books:

(You can even read the whole book, if you'd like.)

It's funny to think that this recipe has been sitting in that book for possibly 184 years, waiting for us to find it.  How many others may have seen it, along the way?  Did the person who jotted it down ever imagine that someone would painstakingly analyze the words in an attempt to read what turned out to be a recipe?  If I write a recipe for Santa Fe Stew on the blank pages of my copy of Jane Eyre, will someone find it, someday?  ;o)

So then you start to wonder about the person who wrote the recipe.  The name inked on the title page-- "Gavin Yuille 1824"-- leads you on another googling mission, and again you strike gold.  We purchased the book locally, and (lo and behold) there's information about a man by that name who bought 72 acres of land in this very county (in Daphne), back in 1845.  Apparently he was a native of Scotland who moved his family to New York City in 1829, then down through South Carolina (where he may have taught in a school), and finally, in 1834, he ended up in Mobile, where he owned and operated a bakery "at the corner of Dauphin and Jackson Streets" (a spot I can pinpoint on Google Maps).  I can trace the basic facts of his life down to when he became a U.S. citizen (April 1838) and when he died (17 September 1849, at the age of 63).  (After the bakery burned, he rebuilt it on Government Street, and those acres of land he bought in 1845 were for a large family home and a peach plantation.) 

It's pretty amazing what you can find in a few minutes of research, isn't it? 

So he probably bought the book while he was still living in Scotland, yet he thought it was worth brining over here.  (Or maybe books were so expensive and/or the cost of transporting belongings so cheap that it would've been worth bringing it under any circumstances.)

And get this-- on AbeBooks, there's a manuscript for sale-- "On offer is an original 1820 handwritten account giving details of the start of the Curling Club in Hamilton, Scotland. The title page reads "Annals of Curling" by Gavin Yuille."  I don't know how common that name might have been in Scotland at that or any other time, but "our" Gavin Yuille is said to have been born in Hamilton, Lanarkshire (in Scotland), so it's certainly possible.

Anyway-- quite an interesting little expedition from a humble recipe to the history of a person's life!

Argh! (More Ads)

What is it with these ad designers and Obama?

. . . Actually, what's with this particular ad designer in general? 

How did he choose these photos, and why are they such poor quality?  Why is the "mom" in the top photo making a silly face?  (Shocked at the thought of a Pell grant, perhaps.)  I finally recognize the second photo as a brown dog with his head hanging out a car window-- but it took some looking to figure it out.  And the third one. . . If you're advertising insurance relief for homeowners, why oh why would you ever paste in a photo of a jogging woman's back?  Am I missing something here? 

P.S.  I love how these sites put "ADVERTISEMENT" in (small-scale) all-caps on top of their ads.  Thank goodness for that clear labeling!  Otherwise, I'd never have guessed!  ;o)

Internet Tidbits

Belly up to the bar, boys!  Tidbits all 'round!  They're on the house!  ;o)

Very few things could make an article (?) titled "Child Stars: Then and Now" and featuring What's-Her-Name (oh, right, Lindsay Lohan) look interesting, but congratulations, NBC Connecticut!  By putting it alongside "Michelle Obama Style Guide: Nobel Wardrobe", you just may have found a way!

Yes, NBC Connecticut, where "Locals are intrigued by icy roads".

That's right, they said "intrigued".  By icy roads. 
Hey, don't ask me.  I live in southern Alabama, where we know that icy roads only exist in fairy tales.  Maybe some kindly Northerner will explain what's so "intriguing" about icy roads.  "Stressed", I could see-- or "concerned".  "Locals are intrigued" makes the icy roads sound like a tall, dark, and handsome stranger from an old film.  What's next?  "Locals are dazzled by wild fires"?

Those were all very well and good, but my favoritest tidbit of them all (today) is this one we found over the weekend on good ol' Wikipedia, where the facts are only as reliable as the latest random person to log in and type them up. 

 

Wikipedia wants us to dig into out pockets and pay to keep the site running, so they've put up ad banners soliciting donations.  This one (in case the photo above ceases to display) reads as follows: 

"As a professional scientist, Wikipedia is my go-to source for ideas and concepts new to me.  Donate for this?  You bet!"

Ok, ok, I admit it!  I look at Wikipedia fairly often, myself.  (It's hard not to, considering how highly it's rated in Google, which is another story altogether...)  However, I've learned not to take everything I read there as The One and Only Truth.  You know how they say you should check out any information you read on the Internet-- not just assume it's all accurate?  Well, that goes double for some of the stuff I've seen on Wikipedia.  But now I'm rambling. . .

What I find funny is that this person felt it necessary to identify himself as a "professional scientist"-- presumably to impress upon us that if he-- a professional scientist-- considers Wikipedia as his "go-to source", then surely the rest of us ought to see its incredible value and donate to keep it going.  It smacks of a sad lack of modesty (and leads me to wring my hands over the implied research abilities of modern Professional Scientists).  But then again, maybe I'm just reading too much into it. . .

ETA:  Last night, Donald pointed out that the Wikipedia testimonial isn't even grammatically correct.  (Good job! (g))  As the ad (or whatever it is) is written, Wikipedia itself is the Professional Scientist!  (I guess grammar isn't important in a Professional Scientist's line of work.) 

Those Evil Ad Execs ;o)

I went to the TV Guide website this morning, just curious about what might be coming on tonight. (Wasting time, of course. Isn't that why the Internet was invented?) An ad caught my eye:

First, I thought, "Ah, trying to cash in on all the overeating people do this time of year." 

But for whatever reason, I couldn't look away, even though I actually haven't been overeating (or at least no more than usual) and didn't happen to be in dire need of the bubblegum-pink elixir.  No, I was transfixed for another reason-- namely, that the longer I looked at the ad, the more I felt that I could be queasy, if I just stared long enough. 

Is it just me, or does that Pepto-Bismol ad possess a mysterious nausea-inducing power?

I don't know if it's the shape of the. .  Pepto ooze, or its color. . . The sheen, perhaps.  The ease with which the mind likens it to the tumultuously quivering contents of an uneasy stomach. . .

Bleurgh. 

Or maybe it's just that I've taken Pepto often enough that the mere thought of it is enough to make me feel sick. 

Anyway, I wonder if the Pepto ad designer purposely tried to make anyone who sees it feel ill.  Anything to boost sales, right?  ;o)

New Glasses

If you read my Twitter tweets or my Project 365 blog or keep up with my Flickr photostream, you probably already know that our new glasses came on Saturday.  I thought I'd write a little about our experience with Zenni Optical for future reference and in case any of you might be interested in how it worked out. 

We were surprised to get them on Saturday, because the last update I'd read online placed them in California.  Even so, they were still a few days later than I'd expected.  I thought the website said they usually arrived within two weeks.  Now I think I may have misunderstood.  Maybe they usually ship in two weeks-- in which case they were almost exactly right on schedule.  They currently charge a flat rate of $4.95 for shipping & handling, which isn't bad-- especially when you're ordering more than one pair of glasses at a time. 

Our glasses came by USPS.  Each pair was individually packed in frosted translucent plastic cases-- nothing fancy, but good enough to get them here in one piece.  Each pair was also wrapped in a little grey cleaning cloth printed with the company name-- "Zenni". 



Now, we haven't taken them to be tested for accuracy, but so far as we can tell, they're perfectly good glasses.  They certainly seem to have gotten the prescriptions right, and they sent the exact frames we selected, too.  (g) 

These days, I've gotten more daring than I once was, when it comes to ordering trhings online-- mostly because you can get such good deals that way.  (Not to mention that sometimes it's the only way to get something that you can't find locally.)  However, choosing glasses frames online still seemed like a bit of a risk.  The website provides all the dimensions of the frames, so we were able to compare them against our old frames and try to visualize how the new ones might compare, but of course there's nothing like being able to try them on and see how they look on you.  It is a little risky, but considering the price of many of the glasses, it might be worth it.  Even if they turn out to look not quite like you'd hoped, you can use them as a back-up pair for emergencies, if nothing else. 

I think we're mostly satisfied with how our choices look "in real life".  It takes a little getting used to seeing myself in new frames, and I'm still adjusting to the fact that the lenses in these frames are smaller than the ones I had before (so the frames are more visible to me as I wear them), but I knew that would be an issue when I made my selections. 

One of my pair-- one of the molded plastic type-- needs a little adjusting.  They sit slightly crooked.  I think it's just a matter of warming them in water and very gently bending them (one of the arms, maybe).  (At least I think I've read online about that before...)  All things considered, though, that's a minor issue. 

The next time we need glasses, I'll definitely be looking online.  If they still have deals as good as the ones we got, I'll order online.

Note:  These were single vision glasses. (I imagine Zenni is just as good at producing bifocals, etc., but I don't have any personal experience ordering those online.  Bifocals and progressives do cost more than single vision glasses, of course, but I'm sure that's true no matter where you buy them.)  Though we got the anti-reflective coating, we decided not to spend more for the thinner (higher index) lenses.   Donald found a site that, based on your individual prescription, translates the difference into actual millimeters.  For both of us, the difference was miniscule-- certainly not worth an extra $17 or $37 per pair!

P.S.  If you want to see more photos of the glasses we ordered, check my Flickr photostream.