June 17, 1997, Tuesday

Which is better: the sobriety of intelligence or the opiate of idiocy?

H


ave a look at the dreary arrogance of Elly. Email anything to her she doesn't agree with and she'll go wah wah crying off to your ISP. I think she deserves some sort of shredded blue ribbon award. To silence this fool my ISP may well have told her they'd have the matter resolved in 24 hours. But you know: if no one thought Elly was a fool before they certainly do now. Of course, I continue to delight in reading her journal. As a fellow journal keeper has told me, it's fascinating like watching a train wreck.

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I napped until 3pm and came directly to Cocke Hall for more Internet stuff. Meanwhile, Theresa was hanging out drinking vino with Monster Boy back at my house. She came by last night as well. Is something up? She's been wearing a suede miniskirt for the last two days.

I'll get me some Higher Grounds coffee and then go back home. But there will not be much drinking tonight. I have to be well rested for tonight's Comet shift, where I will carry through on a few projects.

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At my house I helped Raphæl with a subtle engine problem in his BMW. It turns out that his spark plug wires had corroded connectors. In the process of our experimentation we discovered that there is about 8000 ohms worth of leakage between primary and secondary windings in a functioning automotive coil. The fratboy neighbor came up to us as we worked and was nervously friendly. All the neighbors at the congested dead end of Observatory go out of their way to be nice to one another.

Theresa showed up with Jesse and Jasio wanting me to buy them vodka, but I was exhausted from helping Ana get a three speed bicycle up and running. So Theresa went off to get vino at the JPA Fastmart and I went to my pre-work nap.

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T


he Elly of Dreamdweller.com has taken down her journal. I feel kind of bad that she's chosen to shut up and discontinue her fight to promote smarminess on the web. Some people give up too easily. If I were her, I'd do as someone suggested in the online Diary mailing list and beef up my index page with embedded Quicktime movies at every link just to spite Hortense's criticism.

As for me, I come from a long line of people who would abide shit from no one. My mother's father, Clarence DeMar, once chased a door-to-door salesman through the snow barefoot, axe in hand. There was an unsubstantiated rumour that my father, Robert Mueller, urinated all over an annoying colleague at the University of Chicago. His brother-in-law, my uncle Bob DeMar, once became so enraged that he reportedly embedded a geologic pick in the floor of Chicago's Field Museum. When I was a kid, I protected a parcel of land from redneck poachers by burying boards full of nails in the tracks of an access road. These are just a few stories. There are many more. It's our congenital bad-ass attitude that makes it so hard for a Mueller or a DeMar to hold on to a job.

I originally had a picture of Cardigan here, Photoshop-altered to make him look as though he was smiling. But Cardigan wrote to complain. I do what anyone named Sage tells me to, so I've replaced his still image with this cartoon of someone getting it on with a polyamourous lover. Note the characteristic lack of a smile. I'd gone on to claim that the above cartoon figure is actually Cardigan, but again Cardigan complained, saying that was a libelous claim (which is a mystery; if I was a polyamourous, I'd be honoured). So now I'm not making any guesses at all about who the little guy above might be.

Oh look, the Prince of Polyamory himself has weighed in with a pleasant punful put down of yours truely! I wonder if perhaps he picked that up from Jessika. She calls me "the Pus" a little more often than I'd like, you see.

You guys missed it, but for a short while today there was no index for Dreamdweller.com, and suddenly you could discover all the hidden directories in the top level. In one, at http://www.dreamdweller.com/cardigan/eros/, many young ladies were shown in a variety of shameful states of undress. I don't recall if that section was rated with RSAC™ or not. Anyway, unlike Elly's infamous calendar tables, that's the kind of download I don't mind waiting for.

The "journals with pretty backgrounds" contingent is rallying to Elly's defense up and down Open Pages. The latest Elly supporter is a housewife named Scooter. She doesn't like the description I gave her journal on my "Other Journals" page, and she says mine is "one awful looking site." She also thinks I'd accept Charles Manson with open arms into my home. She deliberately doesn't provide a link to my page; it's a sort of boycott I guess. But to tell the truth, I think Scooter is actually pretty cool. She's not the sort I would hang out with, but I enjoy the fact that she is so opinionated. Too many of these web journals are overly pleasant or inaccessibly depressing. Still, are all these ladies borrowing their HTML from the same template? Scooter's text is bold and italic, just like Elly's used to be in the days before Gabby set her straight.

with what is this page green?


envy, my friends, envy...

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