Tuesday, January 22, 2002

Follow me here is absolutely fantastic. Makes me wonder what I've been doing with my weblog.

Ah, I was also talking to Astro the other night about utter candor in weblogs. He told me that he had once built a client site that for some reason had failed to load and defaulted to his blog. As luck would have it, that day's entry was full of references to how much pot he'd smoked and his latest porno doscoveries.

Needless to say, he lost the client.

Something to think about.

This is the best refutation so far of drunken Dubya's pretzel incident. It's also the only one.
I am really sick of being lied to. I'm tired of other people's depression and self-delusion governing my life to such a great extent. Looking at the so-called "great lives" of the past two hundred years, I am particularly struck by those who have conquered their depression and go on ahead in spite of it. Merriweather Lewis, Winston Churchill, Theodore Roosevelt... they all battled depression in one form and another. U.S. Grant, too. But was it the extraordinary circumstances that allowed them to rise to the occasion? What of famously, romantically depressed people like Dorothy Parker, Sylvia Plath, Kurt Cobain? Surely they are as identifiable by their disease as their accomplishments?
Perhaps it's that the first group made no excuses at all and the second was famous for the eloquence of them.

At any rate, I'm sick of it.