Saw something interesting on my site meter the other day. For those of you who don't know, a site meter gives the blogger some inkling on the nature of their audience. Don't worry; it gives neither names nor addresses. If the blogger's lucky, though, they'll learn the country and city of the person checking their site out. The meter seems to work best if it's a direct connection between one person's computer and the blogger's. If the blog is accessed through a third party, the trail is often lost. Even so, the site meter may still state who that third party is, and that's always good to know. It can also raise more questions.
According to my site meter, someone accessed my blog from this site:
http://risingtaste.com/
Rising taste? I wondered, was that the same as good taste? Was it a way of achieving good taste? Was that site perhaps telling people that if they want good taste, then they should read Shadow of a Doubt? Was my blog now right up there with classical music, William Shakespeare, Chippendale furniture, and white Christmas tree lights? At long last, the aesthetes had discovered me!
When I clicked on the actual site, I saw the focus was a bit more narrow than all that:
Risingtaste - where taste meets fashion
It was an online clothing store. Well, that leaves Shakespeare out.
Still, it was flattering to think that the fashion mavens had discovered me. Strange, too. There are no photos of me on this blog, but, trust me, such a photo would never be confused with the cover of GQ. But perhaps tastes were changing. Was disheveled "in"? Come next spring, will frayed T-shirts with stubborn mustard stains (I rubbed Tide on it; nothing works), faded jeans with the back pockets coming off, socks that fail to adequately cover the big toe, and scuffed up shoes tied in quadruple knots because the damn laces keep coming undone, be all the rage on the Paris runways?
I examined the web site more closely. In small letters, right underneath the heading, it read:
Wholesale clothing from China
They must have found out I live near Wal-Mart.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Garment District
Saw something interesting on my site meter the other day. For those of you who don't know, a site meter gives the blogger some inkling on the nature of their audience. Don't worry; it gives neither names nor addresses. If the blogger's lucky, though, they'll learn the country and city of the person checking their site out. The meter seems to work best if it's a direct connection between one person's computer and the blogger's. If the blog is accessed through a third party, the trail is often lost. Even so, the site meter may still state who that third party is, and that's always good to know. It can also raise more questions.
According to my site meter, someone accessed my blog from this site:
http://risingtaste.com/
Rising taste? I wondered, was that the same as good taste? Was it a way of achieving good taste? Was that site perhaps telling people that if they want good taste, then they should read Shadow of a Doubt? Was my blog now right up there with classical music, William Shakespeare, Chippendale furniture, and white Christmas tree lights? At long last, the aesthetes had discovered me!
When I clicked on the actual site, I saw the focus was a bit more narrow than all that:
Risingtaste - where taste meets fashion
It was an online clothing store. Well, that leaves Shakespeare out.
Still, it was flattering to think that the fashion mavens had discovered me. Strange, too. There are no photos of me on this blog, but, trust me, such a photo would never be confused with the cover of GQ. But perhaps tastes were changing. Was disheveled "in"? Come next spring, will frayed T-shirts with stubborn mustard stains (I rubbed Tide on it; nothing works), faded jeans with the back pockets coming off, socks that fail to adequately cover the big toe, and scuffed up shoes tied in quadruple knots because the damn laces keep coming undone, be all the rage on the Paris runways?
I examined the web site more closely. In small letters, right underneath the heading, it read:
Wholesale clothing from China
They must have found out I live near Wal-Mart.
According to my site meter, someone accessed my blog from this site:
http://risingtaste.com/
Rising taste? I wondered, was that the same as good taste? Was it a way of achieving good taste? Was that site perhaps telling people that if they want good taste, then they should read Shadow of a Doubt? Was my blog now right up there with classical music, William Shakespeare, Chippendale furniture, and white Christmas tree lights? At long last, the aesthetes had discovered me!
When I clicked on the actual site, I saw the focus was a bit more narrow than all that:
Risingtaste - where taste meets fashion
It was an online clothing store. Well, that leaves Shakespeare out.
Still, it was flattering to think that the fashion mavens had discovered me. Strange, too. There are no photos of me on this blog, but, trust me, such a photo would never be confused with the cover of GQ. But perhaps tastes were changing. Was disheveled "in"? Come next spring, will frayed T-shirts with stubborn mustard stains (I rubbed Tide on it; nothing works), faded jeans with the back pockets coming off, socks that fail to adequately cover the big toe, and scuffed up shoes tied in quadruple knots because the damn laces keep coming undone, be all the rage on the Paris runways?
I examined the web site more closely. In small letters, right underneath the heading, it read:
Wholesale clothing from China
They must have found out I live near Wal-Mart.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
In Memoriam: Borders 1971-2011
Bookstore chain
“Following the best efforts of all parties, we are saddened by this development...We were all working hard towards a different outcome, but the headwinds we have been facing for quite some time, including the rapidly changing book industry, eReader revolution, and turbulent economy, have brought us to where we are now...For decades, Borders stores have been destinations within our communities, places where people have sought knowledge, entertainment, and enlightenment and connected with others who share their passion. Everyone at Borders has helped millions of people discover new books, music, and movies, and we all take pride in the role Borders has played in our customers’ lives...I extend a heartfelt thanks to all of our dedicated employees and our loyal customers.”
--Mike Edwards, Borders Group President
"Well, at least I got to use the gift card while I still had the chance."
--Kirk Jusko, loyal customer who lived not far from a Borders.
“Following the best efforts of all parties, we are saddened by this development...We were all working hard towards a different outcome, but the headwinds we have been facing for quite some time, including the rapidly changing book industry, eReader revolution, and turbulent economy, have brought us to where we are now...For decades, Borders stores have been destinations within our communities, places where people have sought knowledge, entertainment, and enlightenment and connected with others who share their passion. Everyone at Borders has helped millions of people discover new books, music, and movies, and we all take pride in the role Borders has played in our customers’ lives...I extend a heartfelt thanks to all of our dedicated employees and our loyal customers.”
--Mike Edwards, Borders Group President
"Well, at least I got to use the gift card while I still had the chance."
--Kirk Jusko, loyal customer who lived not far from a Borders.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Archival Revival: Rock, Paper, Caesar
(originally posted on 6/21/2008)
The following conversation took place a couple of years ago at work:
"What's this paper doing on the floor? Now it's covered with footprints!"
"That's because everybody's been stepping on it."
"Well, I can see everybody's been stepping on it. Why is everybody stepping on it?"
"To get to the tape machine."
"Why don't they just move the paper?"
"Where? You see how crowded it is."
"You can move it to, uh, hmmm...I have to use the tape machine, so I guess I'll just step on the paper myself. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"What?"
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"Why should I piss against a rock?"
"You just said, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'. Well, in Ancient Rome, didn't they piss against rocks?"
"What makes you think they pissed against rocks in Ancient Rome?"
"'Cause they didn't have toilets."
"Why wouldn't they have toilets? They had aqueducts."
"What's an aqueduct?"
"An aqueduct is--well, it's kind of like a pipe. A big, long, pipe. A canal-sized pipe. Or, it is a canal. Part pipe and part canal. A combination of the two. And it brings water, fresh water, over long distances. For instance, I think it's an aqueduct that brings fresh water from Lake Erie all the way to Akron."
"Really? That's pretty impressive."
"It is."
"Just think, piss from Ancient Rome is going all the way from Lake Erie to Akron."
The following conversation took place a couple of years ago at work:
"What's this paper doing on the floor? Now it's covered with footprints!"
"That's because everybody's been stepping on it."
"Well, I can see everybody's been stepping on it. Why is everybody stepping on it?"
"To get to the tape machine."
"Why don't they just move the paper?"
"Where? You see how crowded it is."
"You can move it to, uh, hmmm...I have to use the tape machine, so I guess I'll just step on the paper myself. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"What?"
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"Why should I piss against a rock?"
"You just said, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'. Well, in Ancient Rome, didn't they piss against rocks?"
"What makes you think they pissed against rocks in Ancient Rome?"
"'Cause they didn't have toilets."
"Why wouldn't they have toilets? They had aqueducts."
"What's an aqueduct?"
"An aqueduct is--well, it's kind of like a pipe. A big, long, pipe. A canal-sized pipe. Or, it is a canal. Part pipe and part canal. A combination of the two. And it brings water, fresh water, over long distances. For instance, I think it's an aqueduct that brings fresh water from Lake Erie all the way to Akron."
"Really? That's pretty impressive."
"It is."
"Just think, piss from Ancient Rome is going all the way from Lake Erie to Akron."
Archival Revival: Rock, Paper, Caesar
(originally posted on 6/21/2008)
The following conversation took place a couple of years ago at work:
"What's this paper doing on the floor? Now it's covered with footprints!"
"That's because everybody's been stepping on it."
"Well, I can see everybody's been stepping on it. Why is everybody stepping on it?"
"To get to the tape machine."
"Why don't they just move the paper?"
"Where? You see how crowded it is."
"You can move it to, uh, hmmm...I have to use the tape machine, so I guess I'll just step on the paper myself. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"What?"
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"Why should I piss against a rock?"
"You just said, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'. Well, in Ancient Rome, didn't they piss against rocks?"
"What makes you think they pissed against rocks in Ancient Rome?"
"'Cause they didn't have toilets."
"Why wouldn't they have toilets? They had aqueducts."
"What's an aqueduct?"
"An aqueduct is--well, it's kind of like a pipe. A big, long, pipe. A canal-sized pipe. Or, it is a canal. Part pipe and part canal. A combination of the two. And it brings water, fresh water, over long distances. For instance, I think it's an aqueduct that brings fresh water from Lake Erie all the way to Akron."
"Really? That's pretty impressive."
"It is."
"Just think, piss from Ancient Rome is going all the way from Lake Erie to Akron."
The following conversation took place a couple of years ago at work:
"What's this paper doing on the floor? Now it's covered with footprints!"
"That's because everybody's been stepping on it."
"Well, I can see everybody's been stepping on it. Why is everybody stepping on it?"
"To get to the tape machine."
"Why don't they just move the paper?"
"Where? You see how crowded it is."
"You can move it to, uh, hmmm...I have to use the tape machine, so I guess I'll just step on the paper myself. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"What?"
"Why don't you piss against a rock?"
"Why should I piss against a rock?"
"You just said, 'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'. Well, in Ancient Rome, didn't they piss against rocks?"
"What makes you think they pissed against rocks in Ancient Rome?"
"'Cause they didn't have toilets."
"Why wouldn't they have toilets? They had aqueducts."
"What's an aqueduct?"
"An aqueduct is--well, it's kind of like a pipe. A big, long, pipe. A canal-sized pipe. Or, it is a canal. Part pipe and part canal. A combination of the two. And it brings water, fresh water, over long distances. For instance, I think it's an aqueduct that brings fresh water from Lake Erie all the way to Akron."
"Really? That's pretty impressive."
"It is."
"Just think, piss from Ancient Rome is going all the way from Lake Erie to Akron."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Quips and Quotations (Lucifer's Lexicon Edition)
absurdity n.: A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion.
adherent n.: A follower who has not yet obtained all that he expects to get.
admiration n. Our polite recognition of another's resemblance to ourselves.
circus n.: A place where horses, ponies and elephants are permitted to see men, women and children acting the fool.
fashion n.: A despot whom the wise ridicule and obey.
mad adj.: Affected with a high degree of intellectual independence.
ocean n.: A body of water occupying two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills.
patience n.: A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.
selfish adj.: Devoid of consideration for the selfishness of others.
sweater n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.
--Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary
adherent n.: A follower who has not yet obtained all that he expects to get.
admiration n. Our polite recognition of another's resemblance to ourselves.
circus n.: A place where horses, ponies and elephants are permitted to see men, women and children acting the fool.
fashion n.: A despot whom the wise ridicule and obey.
mad adj.: Affected with a high degree of intellectual independence.
ocean n.: A body of water occupying two-thirds of a world made for man - who has no gills.
patience n.: A minor form of despair, disguised as a virtue.
selfish adj.: Devoid of consideration for the selfishness of others.
sweater n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.
--Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary
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