haven't had time to follow this issue too closely, but boy oh boy, read about this hairy craziness going on between Alan of heinovision and the dude from Terrapin Dream. It's big news; it's in the Village Voice by Jesus, complete with Gregory Al___-C____. And to think these words that I am typing are going to you through a modem once owned by the ogre of this story. I feel a little left out that Terry Baker (the webmaster of Terrapin Dream) didn't ask me to pull down my link(s) to heinovision.com, as he did a number of others. I forgot to mention this the other day when it happened, but I received the following (no doubt robot-generated) email: Subject: Reviewed Your resume Date: Wed, 7 Jan 1998 01:00:05 -0800 From: jobs@bridgepath.com To: gus@comet.net Hi, We reviewed your resume at http://atlas.comet.net/~gus/resume.htm and think you would be a good candidate for BridgePath. BridgePath is located at http://www.bridgepath.com Please visit our web site and sign up for job opportunities on the web. Its a great way to augment your job searching efforts. Depending on your interests, you may receive announcements directly from recruiters at top consulting firms, software and hardware companies, investment banks, Fortune 500 companies, and law firms. Most importantly, you will only get those announcements that are most suited to you. Good luck in your job hunt! Regards,
David Lawrence P.S. Feel free to forward this e-mail to anyone you think could benefit from BridgePath.
But have a look at the resumé that was supposedly reviewed! Now either this BridgePath place is engaged in some very interesting commerce, or else they use robots programmed by Corky Thacher. Those robots may not be too swift, but they're damn persistent; they found that resumé even though there's only one - now two - links to it, buried deep in the musings archives.
I took a long nap in the late afternoon and evening. When I awoke, Matthew Hart and Deya were hanging out, but they soon went to bed themselves in an effort to save up waking hours for tonight.
Deya and I went there together. It was a pretty laid back affair, but there was a keg in the back, and there was quite a diversity of people. There was even a joint of opium being passed around upstairs. Matthew had to wait around for Angela to get off work, and he showed up late. He was a little upset to find he'd missed out on the opium. But it hadn't really done much to me when I smoked it.
Seth Alecka and a few of the girls were attempting to teach each other how to dance the Merengue [thanks for the spelling and link, Anita], which is a simple Latin dance that was popular in the 50s (it's nothing like the Macarena). Ballroom stuff is kind of becoming popular again, I've noticed. Of late I've been witnessing a dizzying array of retro fashions flurrying by among my friends: everything from Neil Diamond to oldies radio to gangster movies. Just a few short years ago, it seemed there was cool and there was uncool and people stuck with the cool stuff and avoided the uncool as much as possible, without risking the potential embarrassments that can attend experimentation. Now it seems that there's a constant search through the attic of the uncool to see if any of it might be salvaged and made cool again (or for once).
Meanwhile, Jen Fariello's date had gone home without her, and she was sad. "He's gay!" she explained, "and I don't have what he wants, a penis!" I felt kind of sorry for her and wouldn't have required much persuasion to salvage her night.
But I avoided all the usual pitfalls and went home with Matthew and Angela, sleeping alone in my own bed.
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