- Nov 30, 2005
- 50,231
- 118
- 116
Sometimes I sit here and just randomly type out my thoughts, which can go on for quite a while, with lots of interesting, at least to me, twists and turns. Most of the time I end up arguing with myself about whether these things really need to be shared with the collective braintrust that is ATOT. I say to myself "dude, you should totally post about that fluffly kitten picture you like, or the homeless guy you saw shitting on the sidewalk on the way into work, or about the girl you jizzed your initials onto last night" then I usually say "nah, nobody wants to hear about that stuff" and then I respond "dude, STOP BEING A PUSSY just go ahead and do it", then "geez, I don't know", then "fuck man, you're retarded, just do it", then I usually laugh "hahahahaha" before I put myself on ignore and move on with my day.
KT
KT
Atomic Playboy
Lifer
- Feb 6, 2007
- 16,432
- 1
- 81
- Oct 9, 1999
- 46,894
- 10,714
- 147
No, of course not, that would be wrong. Posting long side digressions can only get you royally abused at worst and derisively ignored at best. I would never do such a thing.
You know, I was having this very same imaginary conversation in my head, just the other day, with an imaginary Osorum. It was quite the discussion, very passionate and involved, with a veritable flurry of good points being made back and forth. It started out as a rigorous analysis of this imposing mechanical device that sat before us but went on to encompass such far ranging side topics as the ecological history of the snail darter and shoes, why do we wear them? But it always came reliably back around to the best way to operate this bolted together hunk of iron that sat impassively yet provocatively in the very same room in which our conversation occurred.
The thing about the snail darter that most people tend not to know is that it rarely, if ever, darts. In fact, no one has ever seen the diminutive aquatic denizen in an English Pub of any kind whatsoever. Shoes, and why we wear them, are another kettle of fish, or snail darters if you will, altogether. Suffice it to say that without shoes man might not have invented socks and that without socks the glamorous and enticing world of creative word play would itself bereft of an entire continuum of puns based on the socks/sex nexus.
But what has any of this to do with the operation of the contraption in the imaginary room where Osorum and I had an imaginary conversation debating same? Both more, and at the same time, less than you might think. This complicated whatchamacallit had a centrally placed handle which the casual observer, not well versed in the construction and operation of complicated whatchamacallits might well have surmised was the principle way you controlled it. It was my controversial contention to Osorum that this was not the case.
And so it was, at least inside my fevered mind, that Osorum and I argued late into the night, each giving as good as he got, each waxing eloquent on the subject, and each making judicious use of charts, diagrams, crude MS Paint illustrations, and complicated quadratic equations in bold attempts to drive home our respective points.
I do think, at some point during that long and winding night, that each of us secretly came to suspect that our quixotic quest to understand how to operate this machine was not the holy grail to the understanding of the underlying laws of the known universe that we thought it was, and yet we kept at it. It was my belief that this handle, a simple protruding bar obviously meant to be pushed down upon, was NOT the primary means of activation for the infernal contraption that stood mutely before us in this sparsely (yet tastefully) furnished room. Osorum maintained that it was.
I can't quite tell you, gentle readers, just when the tide turned and the shining truth and validity of my particular interpretation began to hold sway, for it was hours and hours in coming. Looking back, I can't find any one particular phrase I had uttered or hastily cobbled together chart I had presented that had won the day and convinced Osorum to see it my way, but I can tell you that as the Sun rose and shone weakly through the grimy windows into that non-descript room in the seventh-floor industrial walk-up in which we were ensconced, that a breakthrough had occurred. Osorum had begun to see it my way!
Yes, I thought, yes! Reason and MS Paint have won the day! Even Osorum now agreed that the handle so prominently yet deceptively protruding from the very center of this slightly rusted but still functional box of bolts and pulleys and dials obscurely labeled in Portuguese and Tagalog was NOT its primary means of activation! It was meant to be pulled down on only after pushing the chartreuse hued button located on the side!
Or, as I said to Osorum, "Better Nate . . . then lever."
You know, I was having this very same imaginary conversation in my head, just the other day, with an imaginary Osorum. It was quite the discussion, very passionate and involved, with a veritable flurry of good points being made back and forth. It started out as a rigorous analysis of this imposing mechanical device that sat before us but went on to encompass such far ranging side topics as the ecological history of the snail darter and shoes, why do we wear them? But it always came reliably back around to the best way to operate this bolted together hunk of iron that sat impassively yet provocatively in the very same room in which our conversation occurred.
The thing about the snail darter that most people tend not to know is that it rarely, if ever, darts. In fact, no one has ever seen the diminutive aquatic denizen in an English Pub of any kind whatsoever. Shoes, and why we wear them, are another kettle of fish, or snail darters if you will, altogether. Suffice it to say that without shoes man might not have invented socks and that without socks the glamorous and enticing world of creative word play would itself bereft of an entire continuum of puns based on the socks/sex nexus.
But what has any of this to do with the operation of the contraption in the imaginary room where Osorum and I had an imaginary conversation debating same? Both more, and at the same time, less than you might think. This complicated whatchamacallit had a centrally placed handle which the casual observer, not well versed in the construction and operation of complicated whatchamacallits might well have surmised was the principle way you controlled it. It was my controversial contention to Osorum that this was not the case.
And so it was, at least inside my fevered mind, that Osorum and I argued late into the night, each giving as good as he got, each waxing eloquent on the subject, and each making judicious use of charts, diagrams, crude MS Paint illustrations, and complicated quadratic equations in bold attempts to drive home our respective points.
I do think, at some point during that long and winding night, that each of us secretly came to suspect that our quixotic quest to understand how to operate this machine was not the holy grail to the understanding of the underlying laws of the known universe that we thought it was, and yet we kept at it. It was my belief that this handle, a simple protruding bar obviously meant to be pushed down upon, was NOT the primary means of activation for the infernal contraption that stood mutely before us in this sparsely (yet tastefully) furnished room. Osorum maintained that it was.
I can't quite tell you, gentle readers, just when the tide turned and the shining truth and validity of my particular interpretation began to hold sway, for it was hours and hours in coming. Looking back, I can't find any one particular phrase I had uttered or hastily cobbled together chart I had presented that had won the day and convinced Osorum to see it my way, but I can tell you that as the Sun rose and shone weakly through the grimy windows into that non-descript room in the seventh-floor industrial walk-up in which we were ensconced, that a breakthrough had occurred. Osorum had begun to see it my way!
Yes, I thought, yes! Reason and MS Paint have won the day! Even Osorum now agreed that the handle so prominently yet deceptively protruding from the very center of this slightly rusted but still functional box of bolts and pulleys and dials obscurely labeled in Portuguese and Tagalog was NOT its primary means of activation! It was meant to be pulled down on only after pushing the chartreuse hued button located on the side!
Or, as I said to Osorum, "Better Nate . . . then lever."
SunnyD
Belgian Waffler
kranky
Elite Member
- Oct 9, 1999
- 21,019
- 156
- 106
I can relate to what you said, Perknose. Sometimes you want to discuss a topic and in order to fully express your personal take on the situation, you know it's going to require a few paragraphs in order to "set the table" for what you hope will make for an interesting reply or new topic. I would look forward to a meaty thread discussion where points and counterpoints are traded judiciously, with all parties contributing meaningful points of view and bringing up new slants that would occasionally get me to rethink my position.
I would imagine comparing the average number of characters in a reply in ATOT to be an order of magnitude less than it was five years ago. Of course, by characters I mean the number of letters typed, not the number of different people posting who may be considered "characters" in and of themselves. I'm often surprised that so many members grimly march from thread to thread, posting what they consider to be sharp and witty insults, when their worn-out riposts draw nary a comment from other members. I would think they would grow weary of clamoring for attention when none is given. It strikes me as similar to the man in the park on the soapbox urging the passing crowds to do something or stop doing something, when not a single person acknowledges his presence.
Perhaps it's related to the popularity of texting, IMs and Twitter, where the technology itself discourages someone from crafting a thoughtful commentary that exceeds Adjective-subject-adverb-verb in length and in complexity. Perhaps the decline in the American educational system has kept its newer attendees from being able to develop a reasoned position that can be defended using persuasive logic and not by trading escalating levels of scatological and sexual insults.
Yes, there are times when a clever retort is by turns apropos and welcome, but even so the effectiveness of such a response diminishes as the pale imitations accumulate in reply after reply. How many times I have read a feeble attempt to bash a poster and think "Oh, here is yet another ATOT member who is just too clever by half"! I wonder how many life-threatening disease cures and groundbreaking inventions could result if some of them would make even a token effort at performing a productive service to benefit society at large. And on second thought, the answer might be zero.
Though I am completely aware that nothing can be done about this, I still enjoy the occasional nuggets of entertaining and thoughtful dialogue that transpire here from time to time. In fact, just a few minutes ago I saluted Nuclear Ned for his most recent thread which was quite enjoyable. The sense of community which once pervaded ATOT is waning; some might say it has left the building altogether. But there remains a core element of members who possess the proficiency to post comments and new topics, and there are enough of them to entice me to remain a daily visitor.
Like yourself, I have typed out countless replies that never were posted. Some I scrapped because I didn't think anyone would read it; some because the thread had already gone to hell before I was finished writing; some because I felt the topic was so inane it wouldn't be read by anyone with a triple-digit IQ and I laughed at myself for even considering a response, and some because the thread was last replied to a day or two ago, and some just because.
While considering how to best respond to your insightful topic I was torn between worrying about spelling, grammar and format, or whether I should just indulge myself wildly and post the kind of meaningless drivel I have commented on. The temptation to just indulge was very great, but finally I came to the conclusion...
Better neat than revel.
I would imagine comparing the average number of characters in a reply in ATOT to be an order of magnitude less than it was five years ago. Of course, by characters I mean the number of letters typed, not the number of different people posting who may be considered "characters" in and of themselves. I'm often surprised that so many members grimly march from thread to thread, posting what they consider to be sharp and witty insults, when their worn-out riposts draw nary a comment from other members. I would think they would grow weary of clamoring for attention when none is given. It strikes me as similar to the man in the park on the soapbox urging the passing crowds to do something or stop doing something, when not a single person acknowledges his presence.
Perhaps it's related to the popularity of texting, IMs and Twitter, where the technology itself discourages someone from crafting a thoughtful commentary that exceeds Adjective-subject-adverb-verb in length and in complexity. Perhaps the decline in the American educational system has kept its newer attendees from being able to develop a reasoned position that can be defended using persuasive logic and not by trading escalating levels of scatological and sexual insults.
Yes, there are times when a clever retort is by turns apropos and welcome, but even so the effectiveness of such a response diminishes as the pale imitations accumulate in reply after reply. How many times I have read a feeble attempt to bash a poster and think "Oh, here is yet another ATOT member who is just too clever by half"! I wonder how many life-threatening disease cures and groundbreaking inventions could result if some of them would make even a token effort at performing a productive service to benefit society at large. And on second thought, the answer might be zero.
Though I am completely aware that nothing can be done about this, I still enjoy the occasional nuggets of entertaining and thoughtful dialogue that transpire here from time to time. In fact, just a few minutes ago I saluted Nuclear Ned for his most recent thread which was quite enjoyable. The sense of community which once pervaded ATOT is waning; some might say it has left the building altogether. But there remains a core element of members who possess the proficiency to post comments and new topics, and there are enough of them to entice me to remain a daily visitor.
Like yourself, I have typed out countless replies that never were posted. Some I scrapped because I didn't think anyone would read it; some because the thread had already gone to hell before I was finished writing; some because I felt the topic was so inane it wouldn't be read by anyone with a triple-digit IQ and I laughed at myself for even considering a response, and some because the thread was last replied to a day or two ago, and some just because.
While considering how to best respond to your insightful topic I was torn between worrying about spelling, grammar and format, or whether I should just indulge myself wildly and post the kind of meaningless drivel I have commented on. The temptation to just indulge was very great, but finally I came to the conclusion...
Better neat than revel.
All the time. Sometimes I get too emo, or after a few paragraphs I just don't know what I'm talking about anymore.
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