The Sh*t L*st

God's business card

The following is the verbatim transcript of an email message I just received from an acquaintance:

Just came across this factoid on comexpedia.com: (How the hell did I end up there?)



I know all of you out there fetishizing your little iPods will wonder what the hell I'm talking about. Isn't the iPod the coolest thing to have gone into a pocket since the anonymous crowded-elevator handjob?

But the thing with the iPod and iTunes is that -- well, first, it's more expensive. But more importantly, you're trapped in a small musical box. It will shuffle. But it won't break the envelope of your own myopic little playlist.

Sure, Launchcast tries to sneak in the latest TRL pabulum every once in a while. But it has a skip button. In exchange for these occasional peccadillos, it takes better advantage of collaborative filtering. That is, it gets smarter, more attuned to your tastes, but keeps a window open on the larger world.

Launchcast is order on the edge of chaos, where complex systems are their most dynamic. Sure, iPod is portable. But who really needs to listen to that much music in their life? Who the hell do you think you are anyway, Manu Chau? And ultimately it simply reinforces the lamest status quo of all -- your own oversold solipsistic musical worldview.

Of course, I could make a stronger case for Launchcast if it were compatible with Firefox.

Focus on the right cheekbone of whoever you are talking to.

Life is increasingly a window into mass psychology. This reminds me why I often hate people with a passion I can't quite muster in loving them.

I don't know if Sara Davis really exists, but she signed a check to our company for $3.25 from yp.com Internet Yellow Pages. The catch? By endorsing and depositing the check, we would agree to pay $27.50 per month for an listing on yp.com's crappy website.

Someone is probably living very comfortably for having come up with this idea. And I'll give you one guess who he or she voted for in the last election.

Please direct inquires and wrath here: yp.com contact information page

I know I've railed about this before, but it never ceases to make me homicidal. But I think I may have discovered a workaround. Just say "Fuck you" enough and it will transfer you to a live operator (who probably won't be any more helpful.)

Amendment: say "technical support" for the main menu prompt. Then immediately say, "Fuck you. Give me someone." Repeat as necessary.

Bill in Sales and I were brainstorming ideas to help alleviate the soul-smothering drudgery of life here in the United States and we came up with this.

Today's theme: holding the handshake a little too long

Christian fundamentalists jump the shark.

GROSS ESTIMATE ON GPM LEAKAGE FROM RESEVOIR TANK: Totally gross

SUSTAINABILITY OF CONTAINMENT AT CURRENT FLOW RATE: None

SEVERITY AND IMPACT : Very Soggy Carpet

Bill in Sales was just saying to me: "Take a lunch. There are few things in life that can't wait an hour or two." Which made me wonder: does Jack Bauer get a lunch? I've heard he changes clothes 15 times a season. Is there an episode where he and the Director of the CIA get together for baby back ribs at Chili's? (While Arab terrorists strap nuclear suicide vests to their children and send them off to elementary school in Thousand Oaks...)

You remember that Simpsons episode where Homer first finds his long-lost brother, Herb, who runs a big American car company? Herb puts Homer in charge of the new car model and while Herb is playing with Bart and Lisa, one of the managers on the project calls Herb to warn him that Homer is jeopardizing the health of the company. Herb calls Bart and Lisa over, tells the manager to repeat the opposite of everything he has just said, and puts him on speaker-phone. You get the feeling that Alan Greenspan is in that poor schmuck's position.

Oh, we've been vigilant all right.

Translation: stability bad, Bush good.

What a fucking weasel.

See, this is exactly what I'm talking about. I wake up this morning to the sounds of 89.7 KSGN - Good News Radio. Bad karma has boosted their broadcast signal so it now bleeds into KCRW's signal on my clock-radio. I knew I should have donated to KCRW during their pledge drive.

Look at this nonsense: online prayer forms. Let's see if this shit even works:

If bad karma doesn't get you, poetic justice will. Philip Sidney best described this:



For Nilus, just substitute "the popular media."

There must be more bad karma produced on Valentine's Day than any other day of the year. The thing most people don't realize about bad karma is that it isn't counterbalanced by an equal amount of good karma. It would be nice if good karma and bad karma existed in equal proportions throughout the universe. But the true ratio between bad and good, here on earth at least, is more like 3-to-1. That is because ghosts and angels and minor dieties like to hoard good karma.

A tidal wave of bad karma washes over the shores of the Valentines-celebrating world every February 14th. The waters of this year's karma-tsunami are finally beginning to recede. But only now will people begin to have a better sense of the damage that has been done.

A few tips in dealing with the aftermath of all that bad karma you may have generated:

1. Don't drink and drive for the next three weeks. In fact, don't drink or drive. Cars and alcohols are the most lethals weapons in the arsenal of bad karma. Bad karma's favorite move is the D.U.I.

2. Avoid going out with anybody new for the next four weeks.

3. Don't chew gum. You will bite your tongue.

4. Back up your hard drive and all important data as soon as possible.

5. Don't do anything that has the least possibility of making you look idiotic -- especially in front of people you really don't want to look idiotic in front.

6. Avoid spicy foods.

Ideally, when you have overloaded yourself with bad karma, you will work it off by absorbing many small greivances and annoyances over an extended period time. For instance, your ATM card may stop working. Or you may get a canker sore on a part of your lip where it makes brushing your teeth excruciatingly painful. Avoid oral sex from people with mouth sores.

Karma is portioned out in small doses. Don't worry about the big stuff. Major tragedies are generally just random acts of fate.

Melissa just left me a recorded message informing me that I won. I can't make it, but here's the phone number to call along with my confirmation number:

1-800-203-1375
#3100

And tell 'em you smoke rocks.

My favorite Valentine's tale.

Because to love oneself, as Oscar Wilde is observed, is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

The Kinks' Ultimate Collection

Cool cover:

More of a patch than an upgrade.

Now featuring cleaner layout, beiger page background, and The Shit List Book of the Month Club.

Our first selection: Darwin's Black Box by crypto-creationist Michael Behe.



Rip and burn your copy today.

Bill in Sales tells me that the president of our company is upstairs receiving theremin treatments from one of our software vendors.



I've gotta update my resumé.

In a closed society, people are often denied freedom and liberty. In an open society, there is greater opportunity to bemoan the absence of these ideals. But this comes with a price. Specifically, the price at which you are bought or sold or merely bought out.

Just came across this factoid on comexpedia.com: (How the hell did I end up there?)



I know all of you out there fetishizing your little iPods will wonder what the hell I'm talking about. Isn't the iPod the coolest thing that has ever gone into a pocket?

But the thing with the iPod and iTunes is that -- well, first, it's more expensive. But more importantly, you're trapped in a small musical box. It will shuffle. But it won't break the envelope of your own myopic little playlist.

Sure, Launchcast tries to sneak in the latest TRL pabulum every once in a while. But it has a skip button. In exchange for these occasional peccadillos, it takes better advantage of collaborative filtering. That is, it gets smarter, more attuned to your tastes, but keeps a window open on the larger world.

Launchcast is order on the edge of chaos, where complex systems are their most dynamic. Sure, iPod is portable. But who really needs to listen to that much music in their life? Who the hell do you think you are anyway, Manu Chau? And ultimately it simply reinforces the lamest status quo of all -- your own oversold solipsistic musical worldview.

Just two days after Hewlitt-Packard gives me the run-around (once agan), heads roll:

Hewlett-Packard's Chief Resigns, Ending Rocky Tenure (New York Times)

Getting ready to pull this thing apart and put it back together again. Hope it survives.

Spamming your friends and loved ones -- is there anything lower?

So I get a Friendster message this last week from someone I used to work with. Haven't heard from her for years. Says she stumbled across my profile, asks how it's going, etc. So I reply saying what a pleasant surprise, good to hear from you, give her a brief rundown on the last 5 years of my life, and include my personal email address.

This morning, I find this in my inbox:



Look, I know you got cars to sell. We've all got product to move. But a few pointers:

First of all, reply to my personal message before you start blasting me with your junk mail.

Secondly, come up with a macro that at least inserts something like this at the beginning of your message:

"Hey {Friend's name here},"

Third, go easy on the sell. How about:

"Good to hear from you. Did I tell you that I moved to Hardin Honda? A lot better than my old job. By the way, if you know anyone who's looking for a Honda, blah, blah, blah..."

Finally, I can't believe she really used the line:

"Talk about opportunities for career growth!"

Anyway, if you're looking for a deal on a Honda, feel free to contact her. j.tanasugarn@uclalumni.net

The Feds set up Tommy Chong for selling bongs over the Internet. Meanwhile, my brothers mainlining this junk 6 hours a night. Last night, he gathered fairyroot, befriended a legion of gnomes, and neglected to feed his cats. Where's the DEA when you really need them?

Paul McCartney is sort of the Jay Leno of The Beatles.

But he sure puts Ashlee Simpson in her highchair.

Super-size it and put it in bold. They're run by the devil himself. (That's his voice on the automated voice system.) Next time I update the template, they're going right to the top of the Shit List.

Deep breath...

Ok, feeling a little better.

Publicize me, dammit:

<a href="http://enemiesblog.blogspot.com"><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/shitlist.gif" height="67" width="200" style="border:0" alt="The Shit List"/></a>

I first learned about Google a few years back in a New Yorker article. The article immediately caught my attention because at the time I was trying to figure out what the best search engine was. I was under the impression for some reason that it was Northernlights.com, but I could never make sense of their results page. The New Yorker article answered my question.

But what I found most intriguing was a statement in passing that Google saves all its queries. What value did a string of 3 or 4 words have? No one knew. So why did they do it? Probably because they could.

I don't think the significance of this immediately struck me. But I see it now as a marker of one of the major epochal faultlines in human history -- the technological problem of saving massive amounts of information has become almost trivial.

The value of those short query strings, I have come to realize, is not so trivial. For one thing, there is probably more information saved with each query than just the 3 or 4 words fed into the query field. There's also whatever information can be extracted from your browser (e.g. IP address.) There is all the other information people put out there on the web identifying themselves. And then there are the algorithms that can mine the vast oceans of data being gathered and divine all those interesting and incriminating patterns.

What I imagine will eventually happen is this: with the advancement of data-mining algorithms and other esoteric pattern-recognition techniques, Google (or some other service) eventually will be able to tie every query you ever made, however filthy or disgusting, back to you. They'll probably be able to identify every site you've ever visited. And thus it will be revealed, for instance, that on September 12, 2001, only one day after the most important tragedy in the history of the world, while a nation mourned, Tomohiro Idokoro searched for "hairy slut beaver shots" on his desktop computer.

But then we'll find out that a lot of other people did, too. So it won't turn out to be as big a deal as it seems to be right now.

And we were worried about Saddam Hussein. Fucking idiocy.

Just got to the end of this week's New Yorker to discover the winner of this year's cartoon contest:



"He feels he can do more good working within the system."

Squidzilla is not amused.

If the Stones had cut "Street Fighting Man" today, they almost surely would have fucked it up. It'd be an over-produced nightmare.

I can't wait for the next episode of American Idol.

I think Larry King should be a special guest judge.

You can cut the racial tension between between Simon and Randy with a knife. You can cut the sexual tension between Simon and Randy with a knife.

I think Simon LeBon should be a special guest judge. I think he should be a contestant.

I think there should be a celebrity version of American Idol. I predict Billy Idol will barely edge Aretha Franklin in the final episode. It will have the highest ratings since the Ruben-Clay final. Simon will hurt Vanilla Ice's feelings in the auditions round.

Will Paula Abdul ever organize an album to benefit victims of tragedy?

Will Fantasia ever find true love?

Millions of aging Japanese women have accepted Clay Aiken. When will his own parents finally accept him?