The internet is a dick, and not the way you think

It’s come to my attention recently that the internet is really passive aggressive.

No, I don’t mean the people: I mean the internet itself. The technology.

I signed up for a twitter account to participate in a contest. Weeks later, after I hadn’t used it, Twitter emailed me with the message, “Do you know how to tweet?” I couldn’t help but imagine a the implied, sarcistic, “You dumb townie.”

LinkedIn calls itself “the world’s largest professional network.” So when I googled someone on my phone, I got back truncated results from their profile: “John Doe is… the world’s largest… engineer”

I have a facebook now, originally created a few months back to promote my collection of short stories and to prove to people that yes, I do know how to have a “media platform.” I’ve not friended people because there are a lot of people from my past that don’t need to know I’m still alive. Anyway, I scrolled through my feed and after only about 7 posts (each about a line, half about cats the others about trump and one about a cat that looks like trump), the feed ended. I had run out of updates.

Facebook put at the bottom “You’ll have more stories in News Feed if you add more friends.”

“Don’t worry your poor livejournal. I’ll be fine. No it’s fine. It’s fine.”

Duck you, facebook. And your autocorrect that changed my message that was supposed to be “I’ll come along” to “I’ll come alone”.

It’s like Skynet became self-aware and took on the persona of an ex.

“You know, your brother posts every day,” it says. “You’re too busy to instragram your poor world wide web?”



What’s 2nd Chair Kazooist about?

About a year ago (early 2013), some nasty life stuff happened to me and those close to me. At that point I started writing a book, something I’d always wanted to do. Not about me, mind you. I’ve lived my life, I don’t need to rehash it in words. My ideas are more fun than regular life.

Stories about a guy trying to sell his soul to the devil with a coupon. Or a young man who accidentally achieves nirvana, but decides maybe it isn’t really for him. Or a homicide detective in a land of magic.

While I learn how to write – A process I’ll probably talk about here and there on this blog – I’m also turning into a storytelling geek. A self-styled aficionado of how to craft ideas into narrative.

This, it turned out, was a HUGE mistake.

Copyright-free imagery. Yes, I DO have that!

I can’t just read a book or watch a movie now. I have to mentally bullet-point their strengths and failings. This is bad enough for movies I dislike. Everyone likes to tear apart hated movies, authors, or creatives.

But now I can’t even safely enjoy the stuff I love. I pick it apart.


Eleventy12 is a release valve for the stuff I think. Heavily censored, of course. I don’t want anyone going blind.

I’ll review stuff, probably favoring the stuff I like. Because as much of a cancerous whipping-boy as Michael Bay is on storytelling, I’d still love for him to make a movie out of my stories. Because I want his money more than I dislike his movies.

And I’ll just post the dross that enters my head in general. You know, like every other blogger.