Ever since I first seen these blackout poems I’ve liked them. I think it’s cool that you can make an interesting mini-story from blacking out words in a boring old newspaper article.

I’ve never tried to make one but it seems like it’d be extremely hard to get everything to turn out right. On the upside it seems like the format would force you to make stories like you wouldn’t ever be able to make on your own.

Check it out for yourself, here’s video of a newspaper blackout poem being made. The whole process is condensed into twenty seconds:

From what I can tell this is what the poem turned out to be:

WITH

little
to gain or lose,
he was
red
and unfinished
and forward
I don’t know how many times
over the years
he
he looked up a dress
with owlish eyes
and
he somehow
turned catastrophe into
nothing

Lol at the ‘owlish eyes’ part! Maybe I will try my hand at making one of these, seems like it might be fun.

Though I gotta say that I haven’t touched a paper newspaper in a very long time so I’ll have to grab a screenshot of a newspaper article online and black the words out in a Paint-type program or something.

What do you think about newspaper blackout poems, are they dull or awesome? Ever tried making one?

It’s a tattoo that someone had done on their arm of something from the Lord Of The Rings trilogy. The tattoo is of the carvings of the two trees, crown, gate arch, etc on the door to the doom-filled domain of Moria.

Obviously something about that part of the Lord Of The Rings story made such an impression on that person that they had this large tattoo done to permanently bind it to them. I wish I could ask that person what it was and if they’re going to have more LOTR tattoos done.

Seeing this picture made me wonder what kind of story-based tattoo I would get if I were to do something like that. The first stories that popped into my mind were something from Ender’s Game or Ender’s Shadow, two of my favorite books.

But then I then I thought about the author of those books…Orson Scott Card.

Long story short Orson Scott Card (amongst other things) is quite the homophobe and thinks that equality for gay people means the ‘end of democracy in America’.

Er, hmm. I’m thinking a tattoo of something by him might burn my skin from all the transferred bigotry so never mind on that one 0_o.

Back to the drawing board I guess, I’m not sure what kind of story tattoo I’d get. What do you think …what kind of story tattoo would you get and would it matter to you who the author was?

Tourists that come to Alaska are notorious for saying funny things. I guess this is because we can seem like such an alien place, set so far from the other states and all. And with the Alaska that you see in movies it’s a wonder that most people don’t think we’re all caribou hunting igloo dwellers here.

Well actually some people do think that lol but even those that don’t can still be mystified by the aura that Alaska is extremely different from other places in the US. This leads to all sorts of questions that seem funny to us locals like:

“What kind of money do you use here in Alaska?”

“How do you get the moose to cross at the moose crossing sign?”

“what time do they turn on the northern lights?”

I think it’s nice how excited people get about the idea that Alaska is this adventurously different and exciting place. In many cases that is actually true but in others it’s just as dull an un-adventurous here as any other state.

Having worked in the tourist industry at one point I’ve had quite a few tourists ask me funny questions but my favorite line from a tourist wasn’t a question or even anything that was said to me in particular. It was something I overheard while Jennifer and I were walking out of a local hotel we worked at one year.

Coming out of the hotel behind us were a group of tourists who obviously had just arrived and were taking their first steps out into the town to look around. They were chattering happily about all the things they had planned and places they were going to see when one of the ladies in the group suddenly exclaimed:

“Oh my god!”

What could it be? I thought to myself while quickly scanning the parking lot, nothing unusual seemed to be there. I looked back at her but she was only looking at some taxis off to the side.

“Oh my god!” she continued, “they don’t call ‘em taxis here they call ‘em tundras!” That last part was said with the happiest air of discovery, that here in Alaska even something that’s usually boring like taxis had a cool Alaskan twist to it.

So yeah I felt a little guilty giggling (quietly) to myself as I kept walking. The reason she said “they call ‘em tundras” is because the lights on the taxis she was looking at said ‘TUNDRA’ on them …because they were owned by Tundra Taxi, a taxi company local to that town.

Personally I hope no one ever told her that taxis were just boring old taxis here in Alaska. With any luck she went through her whole trip experiencing lots more happy (but hopefully more accurate) discoveries, though I’m sure she got some funny looks from people if she said “I’m going to go call a tundra now” or something like that :D.

To make things worse I was the shift manager so all complaints that couldn’t be solved by a regular employee were routed to me. I quickly became adept at always maintaining an extra polite demeanor even under the worst of treatment.

Some people were just having bad days (holidays and at the height of Alaskan cabin fever season were the worst times of year for this) and they felt like it was the natural thing to do to take their crappy day out on a lowly teenage fast food worker.

Maybe it eased their stress to feel superior or maybe they just needed some sort of outlet for their frustrations, either way I knew better than to get flustered or frustrated under pressure.

This extra polite demeanor that I had to keep up did have a silver lining though, it lead to a lot of funny situations. One of them popped into my head last night and became the inspiration for this post, here it is:

—–

So it was dinner rush in the middle of winter. That meant grumpy people in cars lined up around the building and grumpy people in a line to the door inside the building. Here in Alaska there’s barely any daylight during certain times of the winter and this was one of them, it was dark outside and gloomy inside which just made people feel extra sour.

I understood this and was working the front counter trying to be as accommodating as possible under the circumstances. Suddenly I realize that the drive through has completely come to a halt. ‘What’s up?’, I wonder while rushing around to put orders together.

Apparently there’s a lady at the drive-through window who’s demanding to see a menu. She had just realized that she needed to order more things but she doesn’t know what exactly, apparently she needs a menu so she can sit with the others in her car and talk it over all leisurely like. Never mind the million people stuck behind her while this all would be happening, she’s already at the window so she’s not in a hurry now.

The exasperated employee at the window says he’s sorry but they don’t have menus available because it’s assumed you’ll look at the board by the microphone where you order. The woman grows more upset and strangely even starts to take a tone of blaming him for her not knowing what else to order.

At this point I realize that even though it will slow down the front counter I have to go over there and talk to this highly agitated lady before the people in the cars behind her form a lynch mob. I walk over but as I’m walking up to the window she speeds off without taking any food.

‘Oookay’, I thought to myself, ‘well that’s the end of that I guess’. No, no it wasn’t.

Back at the front counter I’m doing my best to catch up on putting fries, hamburgers, and sodas, fries, hamburgers, and sodas, and on and on up on the trays whizzing by me when a woman steps in front of all the other customers and demands my attention. It’s her. There’s something about this lady, she just knows how to grind things to a halt.

‘Yes Ma’am?’ I say, bracing myself for a tirade but trying not to show any apprehension. Some mean customers can smell fear you know lol.

She starts in on on how she needs a menu, demands a menu, to take back out to her car so that they can all decide what extra items to order.

Looking at the menu board she is now standing in front of is not enough (and for some reason the people in the car just can’t come inside), she needs something on paper and she needs it now. ‘What am I supposed to do without a paper menu??’ she says loudly and with finality, she’s digging in and not going to move until she gets a menu.

The customers in line start to shift their weight impatiently and look at the lady with quick sideways glances, the first stirrings of a hungry lynch mob.

‘Well…I think we might have something around here.’ I say digging through a pile of papers under a side counter.

While cleaning up one day I had come across a menu for the seeing impaired, it was paper and had extra large print in case some elderly person needed to go sit down with it and then we could bring the order out to them. That scenario had never happened though and so the paper was shuffled from one neglected spot to another.

A minute or so of awkward silence passed and I was starting to formulate a plan B to appease this lady but I finally find it…a paper menu. Hallelujah.

‘Here you go Ma’am.’ I say while handing the menu to her over the counter, ‘It’s got extra large print but otherwise it’s a normal basic menu.’

She takes the menu from me, looks down at it for a second, and then looks up at me with a certain triumphant look like she had caught me doing something bad. She looked at me like I was the one ruining her day (or her life or whatever) and I was about to get my just desserts. Revenge. I braced myself.

‘Uh!’she said loudly and with disgust,‘THIS is a braille menu, I can’t read braille! Tell me just how am I supposed to read this huh?’ And with that last part she made a big show of flinging the paper down on the counter towards me and it twirled toward where I stood. It was her deadly paper ninja star that would put an end to my obviously malicious efforts to trick her with a braille menu.

She stood there with a half smirk and waited for me to…what? Grovel? Crumble? I can’t be 100% sure of what was in her mind but I can tell you that her body language and face told me that she was suddenly feeling a lot better, this dysfunctional fast food restaurant theater was a weird sort of release of stress for her.

I gotta admit, at this point I was feeling pretty embarrassed. I looked down at the paper on the counter and saw that yes it was indeed a braille menu. I could feel all the impatient eyes of the crowd in front of me staring too, now what? I could have sworn that it was a large print menu and I thought I had just seen the letters on it a second ago, how could I make such a mistake? Then I remembered.

I reached down, picked up the paper, and calmly flipped it over.

There on the other side was the large print menu. I had handed the paper to her a bit sideways and she must have turned it braille side up. ‘There you go Ma’am’, I said and pushed the paper towards her on the counter.

I made a point of showing no affect at all, lest I might accidentally give her something to latch on to for a tirade. All I wanted her to do was to take this paper menu out to her car so her and her associates could decide on what cheeseburgers and chicken nugget combos to get without inflicting more hassle on other customers.

What she actually did surprised me. She made a half disgusted half surprised noise like ‘Ugh!’, turned around, and stormed off never to be seen again! Lmao!

I can laugh about it now but at the time I was so surprised that I just stood there. Some of the customers in line laughed and someone off to the left did a slow clap.

What’s more, a few minutes later after the line was moving again while I was handing one customer a tray of food he leaned over to me and whispered ‘Good job!’ and smiled. Haha, well it was definitely nice to hear that after such a grueling exchange with a lady who obviously had a lot more problems going on than finding a paper menu.

—–

I’m sure everyone who’s worked in fast food has a whole collection of these kinds of horror stories, though I bet not all of them end in such a hilarious way :D.

As in was that particular inscription the idea of Darrell Reynolds himself or did his family decide on it for him after he died?

Either way one thing is for sure, with a headstone like that he wasn’t your average run of the mill guy. What do you think?

And really how could you forget the psychotic meltdown he had on the blog when his real history as a felon and rapist was revealed?

He ended up fleeing from Florida and set up shop in California under the alias Dr. Khristian Knight.

But he is right back to doing the same thing as before, using online profiles to lure women and girls to come to his “Camelot”.

This is the story of what happened to one young woman whom he lured to Camelot. It’s heartbreaking to read but hopefully it will do some good out there and prevent more girls from falling into his spider web:

http://anitawirawan.com/sirpatrick/archives/322

The source of the puddle? Two small punctures in the milk jug. The culprit? A quick and stealthy cat vampire, now happily licking her paw.

 

What is a hint memoir?

More hint memoirs.

Feel free to post your own hint memoirs in the comments too if you want I’d love to read em :).
 

 

He thought that eagles weren’t a good representation of America because he saw them as cowardly and easily driven away by other birds (unlike Americans who had fiercely driven out the British). Of eagles Franklin wrote:

For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country.

…Besides he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District.

He is therefore by no means a proper Emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our Country…

Turkeys, however, were a different story. Franklin thought they were freaking awesome and much more worthy of a comparison to the brave revolutionary Americans:

For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America…

He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.

Hmm I’m thinking turkeys as the national bird would have conflicted a bit with the whole Thanksgiving thing, then again maybe we’d all have switched over to eating bald eagles every year by now lol.

Last week I found out that one of the founders of a site I like to go to committed suicide. Like so many others out there I’m now left wondering why?

Ilya Zhitomirskiy of Diaspora (an open and user-owned social network) was found dead in his room at the San Francisco apartment he shared with some roommates. There were conflicting reports about the suicide note he left, but one of his roommates stated that it simply said:

“Thank you to everyone who was kind to me, this decision is purely my own.”

I can’t help but wonder if much of what put him in the mindset of ending his life was related to the extreme stresses of a project like Diaspora.

The Diaspora project looks to do nothing less than free modern social networking from being in the exclusive power of big corporations.

But like most projects with such an ambitious goal there were many incredibly difficult challenges to deal with, not the least of which was the media’s pigeonholing of Diaspora as a site that would either take down or replace Facebook in a short amount of time…or be a failure.

This set an unreachable bar in the public sphere for Diaspora because, well, 1) Facebook is a behemoth to say the least and 2) Diaspora wasn’t even trying to do that.

Though this kind of publicity helped Diaspora raise more funding than it probably would have otherwise I think it poisoned the process quite a bit. The world was now waiting for these four guys in their early twenties (who were setting out on their first venture no less) to take down Facebook, and fast.

It didn’t happen. And when Diaspora ran into other troubles I saw many people declaring them to be failures or questioning their motives. This must have been hard to hear for someone who’d put their soul into the project.

When I recently read that one of the co-founders was leaving the project due to that universal red flag “personal reasons” I thought to myself that things must have gotten really bad behind the scenes for the group. I had no idea that not much later I’d be reading about the suicide of one of them.

By all accounts Ilya Zhitomirskiy passionately cared about creating technology that would protect and empower people instead of mining them or limiting their rights to make money. And he was one of the rare few who not only cares about helping people but steps up to actually do things to help as many people as possible.

It’s a crushing blow when the world loses someone like this, RIP Ilya.