Plurp: We Distort. You Deride.

Bigger!

2003.09.14 : 2003.09.20

Saturday, September 20, 2003
Blab. We wondered if you talked like pirate yesterday.
Aye I did. Tis my birthday. Savvy?
Happy birthday. But the pirate-talking thing wasn't actually restricted to pirates who were having birthdays. As far as we know.

Blab. A gregarious reader writes:
From Slashdot:
"I, for one, welcome our new satellite-guided human killing robot overlords"
And well you should. Our new satellite-guided human killing robot overlords are here for our own good.

Blab. A reader submits an elegant proof. Fortunately, it was not restricted to the margin.
The shower curtain is attracted to Steve's legs.
I am attracted to Steve's legs.
Therefore, I must be a shower curtain.
Q.E.D.

Blab. A reader exclaims:
"Weeeeeelcome to Totsland, boys and girls!"
I guess I understand this character:
"HARDY HAR SINAI? A snuggly, bashful mountain with a southern drawl who gets in all kinds of trouble." (Note the 10 Commandments for ears.)
But why is the Mayor of Totsland Scottish?
"BARUCH McBRACHA? The Mayor of Totsland. A flighty, quick-witted jester with a Scottish brogue who parades around in a top hat and bright red tuxedo."
Oh, and these characters:
"SHAMOR & ZACHOR? The Shabbat candle twins."
..should be be saying: "Candle twin powers, activate!"
Torah Tots? You people frighten us. You really do.

Yow.Kate Beckinsale in black latex.
If you don't understand the attraction, it's probably hard to explain. Just take our word for it.
Even if it didn't feature vampires and werewolves (making it a winner already), the addition of Ms. B makes for - how shall we say? - compulsory viewing.
(Plus a Half-Life game mod. Way too cool.)

Yow. Mmmmm. Demonlover.

Yo. Rodents of Unusual Size.

Plop. Remember yesterday's quote from John Asscroft, saying that he haven't yet invoked the Patriot Act to snoop on your library usage? Remember the blue dog's cynical rejoinder, implying that they probably did it some other way? And do you remember how you figured that we were just displaying our abject paranoia?
Naturally, you were right.
Violating its own privacy policy, JetBlue Airways gave 5 million passenger itineraries to a Defense Department contractor that used the information as part of a study seeking ways to identify "high risk" airline customers.
Have a nice flight, kids.

Plop. Tell us it's not true. Tell us it's an engram that should have been erased when we returned from Bizarro World. Lie to us, if necessary. But don't let us believe in the horrifying reality of Designer SquarePants!
A warning to our readers: If we see you wearing any of these cultural monstrosities, we cannot be responsible for the vicious bloodletting that will surely ensue.
Sorry, but we can't.

Yow. From Helen her ownself.
We're going to show the new guy the hoops.

Plurp.
The blue dog
gave all the data on Plurp readers
to John Ashcroft

Friday, September 19, 2003
Blab. A reader seems suddenly interested in politics.
Former Ambassador Joseph Wilson said, no doubt in his most gentile diplomatic tone, about Iraq, "Well, I think we're f*cked"
He's my new best presidential candidate.
Dorian, the voter
Curiously, he really did say that. We wonder if this has become accepted diplomatic language these days. Actually, considering the current administration, that wouldn't surprise us.

Blab. A reader makes an extremely bogus attempt to get us to satisfy its disgusting fetish.
It may be more due to the effect of static electricity that the shower curtain is attracted to your legs. You could try shaving them and see what happens (all in the name of Science of course -AJL
Gosh that seems unlikely. Both parts of it.

Blab. Coming to our rescue is this Treasured Reader.
Scientific American says showers form a vortex "much like the center of a cyclone." The lower pressure pulls the curtain in.
-Ed
Quite so. We love definitive references.
This would suggest that the shower curtain will still be pulled inward when the water is very cold, ruling out mere convection as an explanation. One of our Treasured Readers will have to do this experiment for us, as we have absolutely no intention of doing it ourself.

Blab. We lose a reader over our effusive praise about that very cute link yesterday.
I didn't love it. Adios.
Pity, but you really are forbidden from coming back here again in the future. We have to keep our standards up.

Blab. Undeterred by the mass migration of readers, another reader sends us the ...
Best caption ever!
"Monkeys, shown here eating popsicles, are aware of injustice"
That's just classic.

Plop. Help us understand this.
Please sit and get comfortable, because we're going to talk about money. Specifically, we're going to talk about $100,000. It's for a car -- a sport-utility vehicle.
For that much money, they should consider buying a real tank.

Yow. Here's the most sensible productivity booster we've heard yet.
John Caudwell, CEO of High Street mobile retailer Phones 4U, announced Thursday that he'll ban all employees from using e-mail across the business.
The reasoning behind the total ban is apparently to improve productivity by reducing the time Phones 4U employees spend unnecessarily on e-mail--which Caudwell estimates will save the company around $1.6 million (1 million British pounds) a month.
We want to work for this guy!

Plurp. You know that Patriot Act thing - the one that gives the U.S. government broad powers to snoop on and arrest citizens in the name of anti-terrorism? Well, don't worry. The government says they haven't even used all of the powers available to them. Yet.
"No one's reading habits have been reviewed, not a single American's library records have been reviewed under the Patriot Act," [said Attorney General John Ashcroft.]
You feel better now, right?

Yow. Our favorite animator Synj is hard at work again. His most recent secret project is Alien Hominid. Which you should go play immediately. Remember to jump on top of your opponents, as instructed. Very funny.

Yo. Did you talk like a pirate today? You should have, you know. Arr.

Plurp. Were you one of those readers who put off participating in What's a Nice Reader Like You Doing in a Blog Like This?, in which we asked you, begged you, to tell us how you found Plurp in the first place?
Well, you missed your chance. Yep, it's too late now. You blew it. The deadline has passed. Gone. Schpurfo. All closed down. Your stirring truth is lost forever. Oh well.

Plurp.
The blue dog
noticed the sly elusion in which
John didn't quite say that he had never snooped
on your library habits

Thursday, September 18, 2003
Blab. A reader, proud enough of his violation of etiquette to sign his own initials, writes:
[link]
{inw}
But {inw} is forgiven because this is so magnificently, so wonderfully cute!
Oh, go look. Do. You'll love it. (And, if you don't, you're forbidden from coming back here in the future.)

Blab. You know what the nice thing about having our own blog is? It's the clever, industrious readers who tell us stuff that we're too stupid and too lazy to figure out ourself.
Re the mystery of that scrambled text thing:
A focal point for studies of this type of thing (Exterior Letters Effect) is Tim Jordan (T.R.Jordan).
Jordan, T.R. (1995). Perceiving exterior letters of words: Differential influences of letter fragment and non-letter fragment masks. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Human Perception and Performance, 21, 512-530.
and a related 1990 paper.
Unfortunately, nothing on-line.
Well, that particular link seems forbidden to us. We are so lazy as to be unable to find a legitimate link. Perhaps our more industrious readers can show us up by finding (and sending us) legitimate links to this research.
But hey - try it out yourself! There are now multiple Web versions of scramblers. Naturally. (Beth)

Blab. On the marvel of shower curtains that do not crawl up our legs, a reader writes:
other than the convection currents, the curtain is also pulled simply because the air pressure is less where the air is warmer than where it's cooler.
Um? PV=nRT indicates that (in a closed system) higher temperature implies higher pressure. (Consider cooking.) Perhaps you're thinking of low pressure zones in meteorology, which are caused by the convection of warm air?

Blab. A genital fetishist writes:
World's Oldest Genitals Found in Scotland!
Indeed.
"The discovery of the world's oldest genitals proves that little has changed over the last 400 million years -- at least for daddy-long-legs."
What we want to know is: Why did our Treasured Reader figure that this fit so well into Plurp?

Blab. On the recent monopoly of our humble blog by political polemicists, a reader rudely sites the following.
Capuchins: Nature's Communists
It's interesting, we think, that it's pretty much impossible these days to report the results of studies of groups of animals without trying to draw wild, unjustifiable conclusions about human society.
We conclude that people who relate stories about the behavior of others are motivated by the scratching of their own genitals.

Blab. A reader who is far purer than we writes:
My soul has been valued at £49147 which means 13% of people have a purer soul than me. I want to meet them so I can be like them when I grow up.
Funny, we had a similar reaction. We wanted to know what those 43% of the people who were less pure than us were up to. 'Cause, you know, we feel like we're missing out.

Plurp. You know what? We're in the middle of this thing called ...
What's a Nice Reader Like You Doing in a Blog Like This?
The idea is for you to tell us how you found Plurp in the first place. So far, only four people have responded. And that makes us feel lonely and neglected and so very drawn to sharp objects.
Do your part to prevent us from committing suicide. Just tell us how you got here, in just a few words, and only if you can spare the time, in this little box here. Then click Send! and save us from an unimaginable fate.

Please.

Plurp.
The blue dog
was very drawn
to sharp objects

Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Blab. A reader introduces us to:
hikaru no go
Specifically ...
One of the greatest Go players in history, Fujiwarano Sai, has been trapped inside a goban for many many years. A young boy, Shindo Hikaru, has the power to free Sai, and by doing so, opens a spot in his mind for Sai to stay. Hikaru trains so that he may catch up to his rival, Touya Akira, while Sai wishes only to attain "The Hand of God."
It's a modest goal.

Blab. A reader keeps us up to date. We appreciate this, as it permits us to control the world from this little room under the stairs.
An update on one of your plurps:
I found http://www.rathergood.com/gaybar/ on your site
and sent it to a bunch of people who apparently did
likewise. It is now in the mainstream. The opening
bars are on some cellphone website for downloading. My
best friend now has it on her phone to designate a
call from me. I also caught an mtv video recently of
some group using the same animators. Just look what
you've done!
On another note, regarding the guy who called you
lazy:
Being a Photoshop wizard myself, I just figured you
had just discovered it and had become addicted. It is
a lovely program and one can easily be swept up by the
possibilities. "Fun with Photoshop" came into my head
whenever I saw your entries. Enjoy!
We take no credit for the growing fame of Gaybar. It is the natural reward of great music.
On the Afghan woman thing, it is actually a slowly-evolving piece of kinetic art, a work of staggering genius that will catapult us to international acclaim in our newly chosen profession, Cultural Darling.

Blab. A reader figures (indirectly) that we were smart enough. Silly reader.
I sent you a link to the BVI story but the site would only give me the address of the online newspaper. I guess they figured you were smart enough (and could take enough time out of your busy game-playing evening) to browse through the articles to locate, of those 10, the one I had completely printed off the text for you.   My God, it's not the NYTimes, you know!
We will soon announce a new online course entitled Goo Goo Google. Contractual obligations prevent us from revealing details of the course contents. Let's just say that, for some of you, it's a required course.
In the meantime, please note that game playing is an iprmoetnt part of our plan to control the universe. Back off.

Blab. On our astounding discovery yesterday, a reader writes:
And you discovered all this about the shower curtain as your brain cells were still asleep? How much shall we trust this piece of research?
In our defense, it did take us a good half hour in the shower to notice that astounding curtain trick.

Blab. A reader experience cognitive dissonance. This is a well-known precursor to madness.
How can it be an urban legend if it is true? You *CAN* read those scrambled texts.
This refers to that scrambly-word thing that seems to have dominated the conversation in this here blog last week and this. It is true that it's pobsslie to raed sneectnes wohse wdros are scmlerabd, but it's not clear (to us, anyhow) where that discovery originated.

Blab. A reader comes too close to realization.
Once we map the mouse brain, we will be able to control the mouse brain, and with that we will be able to command an army of mind-controlled mice to do our bidding! Billionaire Paul Allen is a freaking billionaire genius!
True. And we have a map of Paul Allen's brain. Now please sit quietly while we adjust the controls on this little device.

Blab. A reader takes that other reader to task, then turns the polemic rays on us.
Concerning your reader's comments concerning the Constitution and bovine scatology:
Your reader does a good job of summarizing some of the concerns of elements of the right-wing lunatic fringe (as opposed to the left-wing lunatic fringe, of which I am a member in long standing).
The biggest problem with the Constitution as a whole is that one of its underlying principles is a myth. The Constitution was written based on the belief that, as another document put it, people have "certain inalienable rights," so-called natural law. It's a nice myth, a comforting myth, a romantic myth -- but a myth all the same.
In reality, no one has any "rights." What we have are privileges allowed us by the society in which we live that are, if we're fortunate, consistently upheld by the enforcement arm of society, the government. The specific nature and interpretation of these privileges change over time. The privileges outlined in the first amendment, for example, were all but completely ignored until after World War II. The current administration completely ignores the fourth amendment, as have other administrations in the past. There is extensive public debate over what privileges the Constitution allows people to have, and public opinion changes over time. What seems an essential "right" to some people today may appear bizarre to later generations. Hell, what seems essential to some people now seems bizarre to other people today.
The Constitution is a good thing to have, but it is only an outline to guide the people in the enforcement arm of society in knowing what privileges to uphold. As much as we'd like to think otherwise, the Constitution is a set of guidelines, not a sacred text carved in stone.
My humble opinion.
L.
You appeared right to us in the past.

Plurp. You are the Seekers.

helen naked pitures

arsenic poisoning pictures

iris chacon

quorn naked pictures

chihuly

aenea

imani

arnieboard

britney

Extensive research now indicates that some reader out there has written a Perl script that generates these same results, week after week.

Yo. ~~AOL~~ Time Warner. Time to change the stationery again.

Plurp. WWYS wants our soul. But, as it turns out, not very much.
Your soul is worth £16867. For your peace of mind, 56% of people have a purer soul than you.
We hate being average. But we really hate being undervalued by Satan. (Luminous)

Plurp. Shopping list.
Oil of Bergamot
Tree ears
Ivory nails
A notation

Plurp. Meanwhile, Treasured Readers are writing in by the several, telling us the awful truth about how they found Plurp in the first place. Here's your chance to be like everybody else!
What's a Nice Reader Like You Doing in a Blog Like This?
Please answer in small, simple words. Otherwise you will hurt our head.

And thanks!

Plurp.
The blue dog
wishes only to attain
"The Hand of God."

Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Blab. On our kind provision of a NYT account for our Treasured Readers (userid: plurp, password: plurp) a reader feigns far too much familiarity.
Thank you hunny :-) see, we're english, so we dont read the nyt very often
You're welcome, our little doughnut. In the age of the World Wide Web, even you are allowed to read the NYT,

Blab. A reader somehow gets the impression that we have a vast readership. Heck, we continue to be dumbfounded that we have any readers at all.
It appears that telemarketers are upset at this Dave Barry column suggesting that people might not like phone calls. Perhaps the vast readership of plurp could help call these guys and read the constitution to them over the phone.
Dorian, the telemarketee
How odd that anyone would be unhappy with Dave Barry. Let's do a little investigating, shall we?
And how has the telemarketing industry responded to this tidal wave of public hostility? It has issued this statement: ''Gosh, if these people really don't want us to call them, then there's no point in our calling them! We'd only be making them hate us more, and that's just plain stupid! We'll try to come up with a less offensive way to do business.''
No, wait, that's what the telemarketers would say in Bizarro World, where everything is backward, and Superman is bad, and telemarketers contain human DNA. Here on Earth, the telemarketers are claiming they have a constitutional right to call people who do not want to be called. They base this claim on Article VX, Section iii, row 5, seat 2, of the U.S. Constitution, which states: ''If anybody ever invents the telephone, Congress shall pass no law prohibiting salespeople from using it to interrupt dinner.''
Pretty darn funny, as usual for Barry, but we can see how someone might have gotten their dander in a twist.
But we like Dave's idea better. Call up the telemarketers on Sept. 19 and Talk Like a Pirate.
It's probably the collective surreality that attracts us. You know us.

Blab. A reader re-suggests:
I highly suggest Anchorhead. Copied it onto my handheld and played it this weekend. Cyclopean Horror to go! Very good writting, although I suggest you save periodically. Such as in the Church before you read the black tome (a MUST do).
- Felis Lynx
We've downloaded it just now and will play it at some time later than just now. (Doing otherwise would cause the rippling causality violation effects that always leave a metallic taste in our mouth. We hate when that happens.)

Blab. A reader asks:
ENOUGH ALREADY! Or are you just plain lazy?
Yes.

Blab. A reader asks:
Did you mean: "iprmoetnt thing"
No.

Blab. That Caribbean reader who simply cannot be bothered finding links writes:
BVI High students turned away for not following dress code
A number of students received a harsh lesson about BVI High School's dress code on the first day of classes last week. [...]
The school's dress code mandates that male students wear trousers - not jeans - that are not baggy, and light blue shirts that cover the whole arm.
Female students must wear dresses that extend to the mid-knee - the top of the knee isn't good enough. There are also guidelines for shoes - even the smallest red tag caused a student to be sent back - and socks.
Reader, meet Google. Google, meet reader.

Blab. A reader wants it all.
Trouble wth the NYT is that after a few days (?) only the first 50 words of articles are available, even if you've signed onto a free acc't like plurp / plurp. Sily NYT.
That's correct. News is free. Olds costs. Go figure.

Blab. A reader adds to the mystery of that scrambled text thing.
Regarding the scrambled text, see this (especially the first link.) The _Nature_ reference on that post appears to be a red herring... it was about sounds, not reading.
We love being an unwitting conduit for urban legends. It makes us feel ... important.

Plurp. What would you do with twenty billion dollars? Well, you might do this.
Billionaire Paul Allen, in his largest upfront charitable commitment ever, today will announce that he is giving $100 million to start a nonprofit research center that will try to create a definitive map of the mouse brain that researchers can use for further discoveries.
And you'd still have $19.9B left over for wild debauchery!

Yow. We saw the coolest thing today. Stay with us while we explain.
When you take a shower, you've surely noticed that the shower curtain flies up against you, as if pushed in by a breeze from the outside. In fact, this is exactly what happens. Air in the shower, warmed by the water, rises, and colder air comes in from the bottom of the curtain to displace it, blowing the curtain inward.
We find this effect very annoying.
Today, we used a shower in which this doesn't happen. The trick? The shower rod is curved outward, so the midpoint of the top of the curtain is a few inches outside the tub. Gravity pulls the bottom of the curtain towards that same plane, yielding more than enough force to counteract the force of the air. Presto! The shower curtain sticks to the tub, not to your legs. (No doubt the cold air needed to displace the hot air comes in around the sides of the curtain. That's OK.)
It's the Shower Stall of Progress!

Plurp. Meanwhile, Treasured Readers are writing in by the several, telling us the awful truth about how they found Plurp in the first place. Here's your chance to be like everybody else!
What's a Nice Reader Like You Doing in a Blog Like This?
Please answer in small, simple words. Otherwise you will hurt us.

And thanks!

Plurp.
The blue dog
turned out to be
an hallucination induced by
overplaying Anchorhead

Monday, September 15, 2003
Blab. A reader thanks us (which never happens), then goes on to enter the following in the Guinness Book of World Records category, longest reader entry to Plurp.
I wanted to thank you for your restaurant recommendations of a few weeks ago.   I did have the vindaloo at Dawat, which I very much enjoyed.   I didn't make it to any of the other restaurants you suggested, but did eat at several other fine restaurants.
I won't list them all, but I did want to make special mention of Pasta la Vista, on 6th Ave. between 55th and 56th. I came in on Saturday evening, and was wandering around Midtown, looking for a restaurant which was a bit fancier than the many delis (i.e., something with sit-down service), but not so formal that I would feel underdressed in the jeans I was wearing.   Pasta la Vista was the one I settled on, and I had a very reasonably price (about $10 for the entree) and very good capellini with portobello mushrooms. Although there may be finer Italian Midtown restaurants, it is hard to imagine anything else being this good and this inexpensive.
You are not entirely correct in surmising that I had not been to New York before. By "not entirely correct" I mean "completely wrong" if you're being technical, but perhaps not so wrong in spirit. I had been to New York before, about 15 years ago (I was in high school at the time) with my family.   However, we spent only a few days there, as part of a larger trip up and down much of the east coast. We did the standard touristy things: United Nations, Statue of Liberty, probably a few museums that I don't remember. We certainly didn't just wander randomly about the city, as my parents are the type of people who like to have a schedule all planned out on vacation.   (I, on the other hand, believe that if you're keeping to a schedule that you're not really on vacation.) And as my parents were saving to send me and my siblings to college, we stuck mostly to fast food restaurants. So, I had been to New York before, yet in a sense I had not.
This time, I had quite a bit of time to wander about randomly--exploring Midtown on several evenings, and having most of two days to go quite a bit farther. On Tuesday I walked all the way to the Village before taking the subway back.
I see now why people want to live in New York. It's not just larger, more populous than any other U.S. city--it has its own distinct, vibrant character. Oh, sure, I'm hardly the first person to notice this, but I didn't fully comprehend this until I saw it for myself.   While I love the midsized midwestern city I call home, let's face it, to be honest its downtown area is pretty much interchangeable with that of just about any other similarly sized U.S. city. Even Chicago--which I've been to many many times--strikes me as just a larger version of my own city.   New York is fundamentally different. It now joins New Orleans on my list of cities that I want to visit again someday. (New Orleans is another city which is non-interchangeable with other U.S. cities.)
I will no longer be annoyed with people who go on and on about what a great city New York is, for I see now how the city can inspire such feelings. I will stare incomprehensibly at people who say "New York is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there," accepting with some difficulty that some people do feel that way, without understanding how they could feel that way.   (It is one of those irreconcilable differences for which no amount of discussion can bridge the cognitive gap, like those who think The Blair Witch Project was a great movie vs. those who think it was awful, or those who prefer to plan out every step of their vacations vs. those who love unstructured time.)
Wednesday evening I saw Movin' Out. I hadn't originally planned to see a show while I was in town, but around Tuesday afternoon I realized I didn't have any plans for Wednesday evening, and said, well why not?   And I'm very glad I did. It's not your standard musical, but you can find the reviews on the web yourself, so I won't go into detail repeating what's been said there. I'll just say I loved it.
Thursday I went to the WTC site to--well, I don't know. Why does anyone go? To see. To remember. To pay my respects. To reflect. I had various conference-related things to go to for most of the morning, so I wasn't there for the formal ceremonies, but that was fine by me anyway.   It did cause me to catch my breath at one point, and not at the point I would have expected. As I was climbing the stairs from the subway, there came a point--before I could see the fence around the site; before I could see the memorials, both formal and impromptu; before I could see all the people--where I could see only the tops of buildings.   And I saw the tops of buildings on the left, and I saw the tops of building in front of me--and no buildings to the right. A big garish emptiness, devoid of buildings, entirely out of place in lower Manhattan. This more than anything else was what shocked me.
From there I walked vaguely north and east, eventually coming to Little Italy, where the San Gennaro festival was getting started.   This is one of the things I love about New York. Sure, I've been to street festivals in several cities, but only because I planned to go. Only in New York have I randomly wandered into a street festival. Walked on, eventually to the East Village where I stopped for a late lunch, then took the subway back to my hotel.
A few other random comments:
Times Square is not a square in the geometric sense.
What is with the handbag vendors? OK, I understand the concept of street vendors--I've seen them in many cities--but why do so many of them in New York sell handbags and purses? Is there really that much demand for handbags in the city?
"Cops everywhere?" Except near the WTC site itself, I didn't notice more police around on Thursday than I did any other day I was there.
Finally, thanks for arranging absolutely perfect weather for my visit. I can only imagine how different this surrogate blog entry might be if it had, say, rained all week.
We're delighted that you had a good time in our favorite city. We, too, know people who couldn't conceive of living here, and a few that don't even like to visit. Some of them are our best friends! We try to be tolerant of them, though we do have lingering worries over their mental stability.
The handbag vendors fill a particular niche by selling massive quantities of counterfeit handbags to a willing audience. The bags pretend to be YSL, or Coach, or whatever, but they're knock-offs made by - well, we don't know who. The bags are, of course, much cheaper than actual designer bags (duh). The sellers have evolved techniques for spotting cops several blocks away and (literally) folding up their sidewalk shops before the cops get there. If they're not displaying their wares for sale when the cops walk by, the cops can't do anything. They open up shop a minute or two later.
New York is a place of marketing illusions. You're right that Times Square is not square. Similarly, Madison Square Garden is not on Madison, nor is it square, nor is it a garden. Eggs creams contain neither eggs nor cream.
Next time you visit, let us know. Maybe we'll get together and have a hot dog. At a street vendor, of course.
Oh, and you're welcome for the weather. We enjoyed it too.

Blab. One of our many groupies writes:
Steeeeve, hunny, we can't ever read any of the NYC newspaper posts because you have to be a member. It's irritating.
You don't read the NYT regularly? Shocking! To encourage you to mend your evil ways, we have created a special account there just for our Treasured Readers. Just log in with the userid of plurp and the password plurp and there you are - all the views that fit in print.

Blab. Mistaking our humble blog for something else entirely, a vitriolic reader writes:
"Pity. We rather liked that Constitution thing."
Bullsh*t. You stand by mute while they violate the hell out of the 9th and 10th, and constantly threaten the 2nd. Somehow, all the violations of the 1st that involve religion you seem to be able to shrug off.
So long as it's for "progress" or "social justice," you're for it. It's only when the Republicans go to town violating our rights that you notice.
Goodness! What an interesting interpretation! Would other readers agree?

Blab. A reader tries to excuse its behavior.
I snet taht "The paomnnehil pweor of the hmuan mnid" to you. The rsaeon I did not iudlcne a URL is baseuce it was snet to me via e-imal.
Can I hvae taht bciusiut now?
We love you, Treasured Reader, but all this begging is ... well, it's unseemly.
Just find the URL like a good reader. Go on. We have a nice biscy here just waiting for you.

Blab. An unusually attentive reader writes:
On this Plurp page, the place where the earlier / later entries links are supposed to be at the bottom doesn't have the right thing there.
Bad Plurp! No biscuit!
Thank you, Treasured Reader. It's all fixed now.
(Who knew that people actually used those links?)

Plurp. Hey kids! It's time for a Vain Plurp Contest! Won't that be fun?
This one's called What's a Nice Reader Like You Doing in a Blog Like This? You are invited to describe how you found Plurp in the first place. The catch is, you have to tell the truth! (We know that's hard, but persevere.)
And we want to hear from more than the people who work down the hall from us and the people who host our site. Really! We want to hear from you.
Just enter your immortal entry in the, uh, entry thingie right here, then mash that seductive Send! button. Go on. Don't be shy. We'll never know who you are anyway.

And thanks!

Plurp.

Old Jack Tripper Doll
Description: Why the hell did they make a doll like this? It looks as though it might fall apart soon. This grows somewhere in a forest clearing. Old Jack Tripper doll is the kind of thing you can play.

Plurp. Finally, something useful (well, maybe marginally useful) to do with all those cell phones.
The Dialtones composition consists of three major subsections, or "movements", each approximately ten minutes long. The first section is produced entirely through the ringing of the mobile phones of the 200-person audience; these phones were completely unamplified by any means. The second section, a "solo" movement, is performed by Dialtones staff member Scott Gibbons on ten amplified (but otherwise unmodified) mobile phones. In the third section, the soloist plays together with the ensemble.
There are many things that we could say about modern artistic expression. But we have our sarcasm on mute at the moment. (Eclogues)

Plurp.
The blue dog
had never heard of Jack
Tripper

Sunday, September 14, 2003
Plurp.

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