August 29, 2012: I don't know what you did today, but I spent the afternoon yelling at Indians. Ironically, I love Indians -- or, as I call them, the Indian people -- but the bitter maelstrom that has become my communcations life forced me -- yes, it literally forced me -- into waxing violent with these level-headed peace-loving people who wear dots on their collective foreheads for some reason that western man is still struggling to understand.
To begin, I strongly recommend that you never have an "Msn" email account. Thanks to their stupidity -- at least I think it's their stupidity, or it may be someone else's, possibly mine -- but I at least know in this scenario they've acted with a remarkable 21st-century brand of stupidity -- and thanks to that stupidity, I may never see my email account again. This means that all the information that I have stored there -- literally eight-years-worth of letters, notes, files -- everything you could imagine, including some prime examples of erotic art composed entirely from typing the letter "x" over and over in specific patterns -- has been plucked from my world. They assured me today, in fact, (after hanging up on me several times over the course of several hours) that I very well may never see my email again!
So where does this leave me? Well, today's journey began in New Delhi, or so I was told. I even gave this man -- I think he was a man, and his name was either Eric or Ali -- access to my very computer. "You can trust me," he kept saying, because I kept assuring him that I knew full-well that this was all some kind of elaborate scam to screw me -- screw with my mind and steal my identity. (Now, why anyone would want to steal my identity, I can't even begin to imagine, but as we all know, the world is thick with remarkably sick individuals, so the more surprising fact is that more people don't try to steal my identity.)
Where was I? So, this Indian character remoted into my computer, and let me tell you, it was like having a proctologist sticking his finger in your ass. I mean, suddenly someone is moving your cursor about, and he seemed to be poking into all sorts of strange places, and for the life of me I still don't know why. "Don't worry," he kept saying (or at least I think that's what he said, because it was hard to understand that accent, and he may have been saying "Eat curry!").
"How do I know you won't be going on my computer all the time now?" I asked, and while he offered some mumbo-jumbo about passwords and such, I will certainly go to sleep tonight just ASSUMING he's going on there and trying to find my pornography cache (the dirty bastard). And if that isn't enough, imagine my emotional reaction later this evening when I tried to use the computer and the keyboard no longer worked! It turned out to be the battery (because it's one of these stupid wireless invisible floating keyboards or something), but am I really supposed to believe that was a coincidence?! Nice try, New Delhi!!
All I know is that when I tried to sign onto my email yesterday evening, the computer told me someone "may" have been trying to sign on besides me (possibly EJ, more likely Shannon), and so they froze everything until such time as I can PROVE it's actually my account, and etc. and etc.
The problem is, as yet I've been unable to adequately answer their odd collection of questions that would supposedly solve this. These include typing the exact subject lines of emails I've recently sent, as well as a mysterious question about my favorite historical figure that still has me baffled, as I don't have one. (I may have put Orson Welles, but it was so long ago, I'm completely miffed!) Anyway, they're having none of it -- while someone else has the ability to "hack" into my email, clearly I'll never be able to.
Further, they've been unnecessarily difficult about even entertaining my calls to the support line. In fact, one line -- the special one for customers like me who supposedly have some stupid specialized account that costs something-or-other -- simply won't give me a live person. Instead, the recorded woman -- who sounds like someone is lovingly shoving marshmallows up her ass while she's talking to you -- keeps hanging up on me because I'm not providing the right phone number ... The problem is -- as if this isn't a litany of enough problems -- for the life of me, I have no recollection of what phone number started the account so many years ago, and so I can't provide one. It's really quite an extraordinary Catch-22 situation, and if I wasn't so very used to my warped life consisting of literal comedy episode after comedy episode, I'd be more disturbed than I am ...
The bottom line is, when all else fails, rage at the Indians to whom Microsoft has outsourced so many jobs. Honestly, I really don't care, but someone cares, so if it can add to your dislike of Microsoft, I'll gladly push that button. I blame it (and the northwest region) for this whole debacle.
For me, the Indians I've spoked with are lovely, and part of it may simply be that we don't understand one another anyway, and are always too shy to ask what the other actually said, so that makes relating much more joy-filled ... I just spend the conversation alternately thanking them profusely every time they indicate that they're "trying something," and then raging at them after it doesn't work ...
I'm not sure where this leaves me, except I started a "gmail" email account now, but it doesn't seem like there's much point, as I don't have anyone's email address, let alone much motivation to again commit myself -- extend myself -- out into the ether for more of this cyber-screwing.
I did, however, just check that new gmail, and the only email there is is from Microsoft saying that, due to heavy volume, it may now be -- are you ready for this -- 5 TO 7 DAYS before they EVEN RESPOND to the guesses I made about my information, to let me know whether or not they'll let me back in to the account ...
It's all too much, as George Harrison sang. It's all too much. I never knew he was talking about his experiences in India, where his luggage was probably lost, or some such nonsense ...
Anyway, feel free to send sympathetic missives to jarretliotta@gmail.com, and give serious consideration to buying ANOTHER copy of SPACE CASE out of sheer pity, if you don't already own two ...
Showing posts with label EJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label EJ. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Write Makes Right, and Dan Woog ... and SPACE CASE
May 10, 2012: There are so many things to talk about, I'm afraid the Killer Bees may have to wait another week ... Big news for SPACE CASE fans (and avoiders)! ...
To begin with, when you're doing one of these entries, don't hit the tab button, because your cursor will somehow just disappear and it could be hours before you find it again. This time I was lucky, but next time I may not be ...
I'm very happy to report that my recent Blah-ugh!, which extoled (or extolled -- I'm not sure which it was now) the virtue of trees and chastized the heinous greed-centered practices of Connecticut Light & Power, may have done some little good to spread awareness and motivate change after all. (Please keep in mind that I'm telling you this not so much to brag -- although there is that element -- but to demonstrate my still-remaining potential to eventually show some worth, contrary to what some people -- (people like EJ and my wife) -- might otherwise think.) ...
Now where was I? You see, people think it's easy for me to write those intricate run-on sentences, but it's not, especially late at night, when I'm nauseous from overeating mangos and cream ...
Ah, yes!: The scoundrels at CL&P and Dan Woog ... No, no! Don't lump them together, for Dan is a noble soul -- the brains behind the notorious Westport-based blog called 06880, or Danwoog06880 -- something like that; it seems to keep changing. Anyway, Dan was -- once again -- kind enough to lend his ever-strengthening forum to one of my hissyfits -- this time this tree business. And now, thanks to his exposure (and nerve in even being associated with me on so many occasions), the tides of malicious tree destruction -- which is, after all, such a stupid brand of destruction -- may be getting assuaged, or at least curbed ... And while a good deal of credit should also go to my lovely neighbor, who took the time to rant and call the tree warden -- although not necessarily in that order -- there's a good chance she won't be reading this, so I'll emphasize that it was MY work that really broke things open. (My god, several people even called me the Lorax after Dan's piece was out, while usually they just say, "Hey asshole!")
Which reminds me that I was thinking of this terrific line in the movie Die Hard II, where Bruce Willis tells the great John Amos, "I thought you were an asshole?" and Amos replies, "Oh, I'm an asshole alright, but I'm YOUR KIND of asshole!"
This makes a lot of sense to me. (My god, is there ANYTHING that action/adventures movies CAN'T teach us?!) But now that I think of it, it made a lot more sense earlier, when I had some point in bringing it up relating to this woman who brings her dog to poop in the graveyard down the street from me ...
But I can tell you this: this whole experience has me thinking I should start using my Blah-ugh! forum for good instead of evil. And this in turn gets me to wonder what other wrongs around me I should focus my virulent energies in trying to make right. Probably it would be a campaign aimed at restricting dogs, or dog owners, who generally drive me crazy and let their dogs poop everywhere. I'm not sure Dan would support this effort, but he doesn't know everything. I don't think he has a dog, but for all I know his blog is sponsored by dog-related industries and, therefore, he may shy away from confronting certain dog-related topics because of politics and corruption. I'm surprised at Dan! I've always admired his work, especially when he writes about me, and while he's not quite the clever wordsmith I am -- I'm actually pretty sure at this point that no one is -- he's probably a much better reporter, and so I would hope he could maintain his objectivity where things like dog poop are concerned.
And that's a good transition to mention my novel SPACE CASE, which I believe Dan is reading and wholeheartedly enjoying at this very moment! Believe it or not, it is now available in hard copy at Amazon! (I can't even believe it, and I worked like a dog getting it up, if you'll forgive the awkward dirtiness of that image ...) Of course, I have to kudos my friend Tom Hughes for his tireless work in creating a new cover, and while I supplied the cartoons, he supplied the resentments and it all just melded beautifully ... So there is no longer an excuse for you NOT to read this book, except for the fact that you may despite my work. But if that's the case, you shouldn't even be reading this, and I suggest you go over to Dan's blog and bother him ...
Alright, we'll try and get to those Killer Bees next time ... Meanwhile, think about saving a tree while you're having a hard copy of SPACE CASE shipped to your house. You won't regret it, at least until it arrives ...
To begin with, when you're doing one of these entries, don't hit the tab button, because your cursor will somehow just disappear and it could be hours before you find it again. This time I was lucky, but next time I may not be ...
I'm very happy to report that my recent Blah-ugh!, which extoled (or extolled -- I'm not sure which it was now) the virtue of trees and chastized the heinous greed-centered practices of Connecticut Light & Power, may have done some little good to spread awareness and motivate change after all. (Please keep in mind that I'm telling you this not so much to brag -- although there is that element -- but to demonstrate my still-remaining potential to eventually show some worth, contrary to what some people -- (people like EJ and my wife) -- might otherwise think.) ...
Now where was I? You see, people think it's easy for me to write those intricate run-on sentences, but it's not, especially late at night, when I'm nauseous from overeating mangos and cream ...
Ah, yes!: The scoundrels at CL&P and Dan Woog ... No, no! Don't lump them together, for Dan is a noble soul -- the brains behind the notorious Westport-based blog called 06880, or Danwoog06880 -- something like that; it seems to keep changing. Anyway, Dan was -- once again -- kind enough to lend his ever-strengthening forum to one of my hissyfits -- this time this tree business. And now, thanks to his exposure (and nerve in even being associated with me on so many occasions), the tides of malicious tree destruction -- which is, after all, such a stupid brand of destruction -- may be getting assuaged, or at least curbed ... And while a good deal of credit should also go to my lovely neighbor, who took the time to rant and call the tree warden -- although not necessarily in that order -- there's a good chance she won't be reading this, so I'll emphasize that it was MY work that really broke things open. (My god, several people even called me the Lorax after Dan's piece was out, while usually they just say, "Hey asshole!")
Which reminds me that I was thinking of this terrific line in the movie Die Hard II, where Bruce Willis tells the great John Amos, "I thought you were an asshole?" and Amos replies, "Oh, I'm an asshole alright, but I'm YOUR KIND of asshole!"
This makes a lot of sense to me. (My god, is there ANYTHING that action/adventures movies CAN'T teach us?!) But now that I think of it, it made a lot more sense earlier, when I had some point in bringing it up relating to this woman who brings her dog to poop in the graveyard down the street from me ...
But I can tell you this: this whole experience has me thinking I should start using my Blah-ugh! forum for good instead of evil. And this in turn gets me to wonder what other wrongs around me I should focus my virulent energies in trying to make right. Probably it would be a campaign aimed at restricting dogs, or dog owners, who generally drive me crazy and let their dogs poop everywhere. I'm not sure Dan would support this effort, but he doesn't know everything. I don't think he has a dog, but for all I know his blog is sponsored by dog-related industries and, therefore, he may shy away from confronting certain dog-related topics because of politics and corruption. I'm surprised at Dan! I've always admired his work, especially when he writes about me, and while he's not quite the clever wordsmith I am -- I'm actually pretty sure at this point that no one is -- he's probably a much better reporter, and so I would hope he could maintain his objectivity where things like dog poop are concerned.
And that's a good transition to mention my novel SPACE CASE, which I believe Dan is reading and wholeheartedly enjoying at this very moment! Believe it or not, it is now available in hard copy at Amazon! (I can't even believe it, and I worked like a dog getting it up, if you'll forgive the awkward dirtiness of that image ...) Of course, I have to kudos my friend Tom Hughes for his tireless work in creating a new cover, and while I supplied the cartoons, he supplied the resentments and it all just melded beautifully ... So there is no longer an excuse for you NOT to read this book, except for the fact that you may despite my work. But if that's the case, you shouldn't even be reading this, and I suggest you go over to Dan's blog and bother him ...
Alright, we'll try and get to those Killer Bees next time ... Meanwhile, think about saving a tree while you're having a hard copy of SPACE CASE shipped to your house. You won't regret it, at least until it arrives ...
Saturday, May 5, 2012
The Dead & Me
May 5, 2012: I planned on doing a post about the Killer Bees, but then I saw this dead body on I-95 and I thought it might make a better Blah-ugh! (And yes, Space Case is still available ...)
Apparently this poor wretch jumped off the overpass just minutes before I got there, getting hit by three cars before settling in to his demise. Of course, I'm grateful I didn't hit him -- and would have, had I left a few moments earlier -- but as I zipped along in the left lane, I still almost ran over him, because he was lying half in the edge of the road. (His arm was severely twisted under his body, while his torn shirt showed a smattering of blood ... but I didn't get a terribly close look at him, and I didn't feel like stopping to study.)
The oddest part was seeing a body there with no police lights signifying the event. It was dark and the vehicles -- four of them -- were pulled over yards and yards past him. A few people were standing about there, dumbstruck, talking -- one man appeared to be smiling maniacally -- but no one was going near the guy. It was surreal, almost as if they didn't know he was there, or he were a squirrel ...
Of course, the event brought up memories of the time I found a dead woman on the way to work. She was just lying in her driveway, having had an asthma attack after a brisk walk that freezing morning. Her asthma inhaler was lying on the ground next to her, and her gloves were off and to the side. I was bleary-eyed as I traveled this back road in Redding, Connecticut, and I went yards and yards past the driveway before it fully registered that I'd just passed a woman lying there ...
After pulling over and running back, I found her there seemingly frozen. Her eyes were open and her mouth snarled in that gruesome rictus of death. (I finally have a reason to use the word "rictus" in an essay and I can't remember if I'm spelling it right.) I shook her and said, "Hey, lady!" (I didn't know what the hell else to do; it didn't even occur to me to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation (and probably because I never would have had the nerve anyway!)) Anyway, by the time some other people pulled over, we all agreed she was dead and there was nothing left for us to do ...
My last death-related story -- at least to date -- involves the tour of the dead body I took with my doctor friend, which I recounted sparingly (yet exquisitely) in my now-famous Fray magazine article. I'll hope you enjoy it, if you haven't already ...
On another note, it may be time for me to relocate my Blah-ugh! As every company, business, software program, television show will do, this site -- which has been so good to me, I guess -- has decided to change everything for no good reason. (I'm reminded of the time Hunter Thompson told me, "If it works, don't fix it.") And now I'm struggling to get this stupid thing out and over the airwaves, and I don't feel like struggling.
Unfortunately, if I were to finally decide to create and maintain my own site, it would doubtless require more work, and I just don't know if I'm up to it ... And on still another note (EJ), it may be time for you to finally buy Space Case -- that book I wrote that no one is taking the time to write 20-word reviews for on Amazon (excepting blessed Kathy & Eric -- both of whom have the good taste I expect my Blah-ugh! readers to possess).
NEXT WEEK (or sooner): I really AM going to talk about Killer Bees ...
Apparently this poor wretch jumped off the overpass just minutes before I got there, getting hit by three cars before settling in to his demise. Of course, I'm grateful I didn't hit him -- and would have, had I left a few moments earlier -- but as I zipped along in the left lane, I still almost ran over him, because he was lying half in the edge of the road. (His arm was severely twisted under his body, while his torn shirt showed a smattering of blood ... but I didn't get a terribly close look at him, and I didn't feel like stopping to study.)
The oddest part was seeing a body there with no police lights signifying the event. It was dark and the vehicles -- four of them -- were pulled over yards and yards past him. A few people were standing about there, dumbstruck, talking -- one man appeared to be smiling maniacally -- but no one was going near the guy. It was surreal, almost as if they didn't know he was there, or he were a squirrel ...
Of course, the event brought up memories of the time I found a dead woman on the way to work. She was just lying in her driveway, having had an asthma attack after a brisk walk that freezing morning. Her asthma inhaler was lying on the ground next to her, and her gloves were off and to the side. I was bleary-eyed as I traveled this back road in Redding, Connecticut, and I went yards and yards past the driveway before it fully registered that I'd just passed a woman lying there ...
After pulling over and running back, I found her there seemingly frozen. Her eyes were open and her mouth snarled in that gruesome rictus of death. (I finally have a reason to use the word "rictus" in an essay and I can't remember if I'm spelling it right.) I shook her and said, "Hey, lady!" (I didn't know what the hell else to do; it didn't even occur to me to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation (and probably because I never would have had the nerve anyway!)) Anyway, by the time some other people pulled over, we all agreed she was dead and there was nothing left for us to do ...
My last death-related story -- at least to date -- involves the tour of the dead body I took with my doctor friend, which I recounted sparingly (yet exquisitely) in my now-famous Fray magazine article. I'll hope you enjoy it, if you haven't already ...
On another note, it may be time for me to relocate my Blah-ugh! As every company, business, software program, television show will do, this site -- which has been so good to me, I guess -- has decided to change everything for no good reason. (I'm reminded of the time Hunter Thompson told me, "If it works, don't fix it.") And now I'm struggling to get this stupid thing out and over the airwaves, and I don't feel like struggling.
Unfortunately, if I were to finally decide to create and maintain my own site, it would doubtless require more work, and I just don't know if I'm up to it ... And on still another note (EJ), it may be time for you to finally buy Space Case -- that book I wrote that no one is taking the time to write 20-word reviews for on Amazon (excepting blessed Kathy & Eric -- both of whom have the good taste I expect my Blah-ugh! readers to possess).
NEXT WEEK (or sooner): I really AM going to talk about Killer Bees ...
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