I'll come up with something in a minute.

Careful with that word Mable, it’s loaded.

Rape Culture, as a phrase, is in a really dangerous place right now. See, it’s a really real thing that some people would like to pretend doesn’t exist, so they use any examples to ridicule and dismiss it. Sadly, some people lately are giving fuel to those who would like to destroy the discussion.

It’s in danger of going the way of Privilege, which can no longer be discussed because fuck the people who fucked that discussion up for the rest of us. No, I’m serious, we can no longer discuss privilege because some people decided to use it as a point of attack instead of as a point of understanding and they did it so well, and with no small amount of racist vitriol, that it has destroyed the topic for polite conversation. This post mentions several problems, all be it from a feminist standpoint, but the problems exist everywhere and those claims can just as easily be about race or religion or having your eggs over easy rather than scrambled.

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August 26, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | | Leave a comment

Greenfield Village Pictures (again)


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August 26, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

The Return of Jack Collier (Chapter Thirty-Nine)

The Return of Jack Collier

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay


Chapter Thirty-Nine: How far will they go?


            I arrived at the Piper house finding a fairly large gathering waiting for me. Piper, and King and even that nice Mister Quayle had come all the way from California to see me. That was nice. He’d managed to escape from prison, come across the country all for the pleasure of killing me. Nice to see the effort. It was a good thing to have so many familiar faces to welcome me. What was less encouraging was the bonfire they were building and putting a chair on top of. They hadn’t lit the flame yet, but it was clear that they were just waiting for someone to take the chair and for someone else to say the word and the whole thing would go up in flames.


            As I drove up, four men approached the car and three more brought Alice and Debbie from the house. I pulled the car to a stop and stuck my hands in my pockets, where the silenced Rutthowers were waiting. Red walked towards me a smiled a wide smile in the failing light of dusk. I felt myself getting so angry, that I was actually too outraged to get visibly mad. I was so pissed that I felt calm and flippant.


            “Where’s Jill?” He asked. “I thought you were going to bring her with you.”


            “I called from the road.” I told him. “No time to go get her.”


            “You should have brought her.” He smiled and I think he may have drooled a little.


            “Maybe.” I said.


            “No maybe about it.” Red suddenly roared. “I say bring a bitch, you bring me the bitch!”


            “Don’t make trouble Jack!” Cindy came running from the house toward me, looking less thin, less bruised, but still very pathetic. “He’ll kill you.”


            “This guy?” I asked. “Nah. Red King’s too much of a gentleman to kill me.”


            “I wouldn’t be betting the farm on that one.” He said and then called over his shoulder, “Peter, get over here.”


            And I will be damned if it wasn’t Peter Kurbisesser, formerly an employee of Collier Investigations, or whatever we call ourselves. I say former, because he was fired at the moment I saw him there. He gave me a sort of embarrassed look and then we both looked at Debbie, who would have cut him in half if her eyes actually had been the daggers she was trying to make them.


            “How do you see this working Mister Kurbisesser?” I asked him.


            “Put your arms up.” Kurbisesser told me. “I’m going to search you.


            “Why didn’t you bring my daughter home?” Piper demanded as he walked up to our little group.


            “Not now Piper.” King told him.


            “He’s been fucking her!” Piper shouted with a sharply pointed finger. “She’s mine and he’s been fucking her!”


            “Quiet Piper!” King shouted.


            “You and your stupid son have ruined everything you dumb son of a bitch.” Piper shouted at King and then turned to me again. “What did you do with her? Hmm? Tell me! Have you ruined her?”


            King had clearly had enough, because without another word he drew a big revolver from his hip and fired a single shot through Piper’s head. Blood exploded from his nose, mouth and the gaping hole that had replaced his forehead. The blood and splattered my face and shirt, but that didn’t worry me as I figured there would be more blood soon. Piper fell against me and I would have taken the opportunity to shoot king, but the damn gun caught on my coat pocket and I only managed to fire a silenced shot at his feet before someone hit me in the back of the head with what was probably a rifle stock but felt like a giant redwood. It didn’t take long after that to disarm me, even going to far as to take my knife and sap away from mean leaving me with nothing.


            “You came loaded for bear today?” Quayle said as they laid my weapons out on the ground in front of me. “Is that a Welbey-Fosbery?”


            “That’s promised to a lesbian.” I told him as I started to gain control of my voice. “The Marley isn’t being claimed at the moment though.”


            “He just keeps talking, doesn’t he?” Quayle asked King.


            “I find it moves the conversation along.” I told him.


            “Let’s cliff him.” Quayle said.


            “Good idea.” King said. “Let’s take them to the cliffs.”


            “C’mon Collier.” Kurbisesser said, waving his gun at me. “Get in the car.”


            We drove in a little convoy, rocking through the night, towards what they were calling The Cliffs. The Cliffs were nothing of the sort, nothing like what they have out west. Nothing like what we had to climb that night to get to those sons of bitches that… well, did what they did. It was just the end of a hill that was too steep to drive down. A lot of rocks and a few trees sat in the hillside. I suppose if you’d never seen real cliffs, this might look like a series of cliffs to you. We went to the tallest of the hills and all five SUVs stopped so we could all get out.


            “Let me explain what’s going to happen.” Quayle said.


            “Oh please do.” I said. “It’ll be the first explanation I’ve had in months.”


            “Yeah.” Quayle said,


            “Ooo, wait!” I shouted.




            “Could you say something like why not, what harm can it do?” I asked. “I’ve never actually had anyone say that to me.”


            “Are you for real?” Quayle asked.


            “Maybe, or I might be made up.” I told him. “I have problems knowing myself some days.”


            “We’re going to throw you off that cliff.” Quayle said. “It’s a pretty steep drop, you’ll be dashed to pieces on the rocks.”


            “Okay.” I nodded.




            “Yeah, then what?”


            “Then we take these girls back to the house and if you don’t tell me what I want to know before you go I will set your secretary on fire.”


            “That big bonfire you were setting up?” I asked looking over the cliff, noticing one strong looking tree. “The one that looks like a sacrificial pyre?”


            “Shut him up!” King demanded.


            “You know Red.” I said turning to him. “If you didn’t blurt things so much, I would have a much harder time figuring out what was going on.”


            “Huh.” Red said. “Toss him off.”


            “No.” I said shaking my head. “I’ll make it better.”


            “Pardon?” King asked.


            “You tell me all that you expect to do tonight and I’ll jump.” I told him. “How’s that?”


            “A woman needs to die by fire.” King said and Quayle actually put his face into his hand. To actually facepalm like that, right in front of me. This would be fun if I wasn’t so angry. “We kill the brunette by fire.”


            “Debbie.” I said, trying not to sound annoyed. “Her name is Debbie.”


            “The bitch dies by fire.” Red said. “Then we’re going to break little Cindy over there. After we break her, we’ll break your other bitch.”


            “Alice.” I announced flatly. “If you don’t start calling them by their names I’ll put my gun in your mouth and blow the top of your head off.”


            “Or you could tell us where Jill is.” King said.


            “Huh.” I rolled my tongue around my mouth for a second and looked over the cliff. I then walked a few feet toward King, because I’d need the running room. “That’s the offer huh? I give Jill up to gang rape or I give Cindy up for gang rape?”


            “They’re both going to be broken.” King said. “You can save your bitches.”


            “But you need a woman to burn.” I shook my head after pretending to think about it. “No. I’m afraid I can’t trust you.”


            “You can’t afford not to.” King said. “What choice do you have?”


            “I can be a man of my word.” Two more steps and I’d be far enough for a good run. “I can tell you to go fuck yourself and be a man of my word.”




            “Well you did tell me your plans.” One and two, perfect. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do though. I’ll make you a deal.”




            “You give up now and I won’t eradicate all nine of you.”


            “What?” Kurbisesser laughed suddenly. “You’re going to take on all of us?”


            “I’ll warn you Mister Kurbisesser, if I jump off this cliff, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine and I’m going to be very angry when I come back. I will likely slam your head in a car door until your skull cracks.”


            “You’re going to come back?” Kurbisesser laughed again, it was an unattractive sound. “As what? A cat? You’d need the extra lives.”


            “I got a green mushroom earlier.” I told him. “Instant one up. Wait till I get the glowing flower, you’ll really be in trouble then. Set your ass on fire Quayle.”


            “The fuck are you talking about?” Quayle asked, proving himself to be a cultural retard.


            “You can still call this all off Red.” I offered.


            “Throw him.”


            “Oh no.” I said. “I’m a man of my word.”


            “Are you?” He asked. “You’ll jump?”


            “But I’ll come back and kill all of you.” I said.


            “We’re going to rape your women before your blood is even cold.” Kurbisesser almost cackled.


            “How you doing through all this Debs?” I asked. “You think they can beat me? We’re pretty fucked up right now, huh?”


            “Forget it, Jack.” She said and I could see her wanting to cry. “It’s Michigan.”



            How many times had I just forgotten it? Just let it go? Yes, this was in fact Michigan, but there comes a time god damn it. This time, something else was going to have to be done. This time, I wasn’t going to forget it. This time I was going to let Michigan know that I was not well pleased with its habit of throwing rocks at my head.


            “Fuck no.” I said.


            I turned and started to run, I leapt at the edge of the so-called cliff, letting the darkness engulf me. I hoped I was as good at this as I thought I was, other wise this landing was going to suck donkey balls. I would have to wait and see. In the meantime, I enjoyed the breeze as gravity grabbed hold of me and brought me toward the ground, and those lovely sharp rocks. It was actually sort of nice, the way the breeze flew past my ears, you might almost forget the rocks below and their promise not nearly instant enough death.



August 26, 2011 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment

And they asked, “So what’s your problem with flowers anyway?”

For sometime now, I’ve had a public stance of being against the giving of flowers to pretty girls. My personal view is that A) they are transitory (they’ll be gone in a week) and B) they don’t show any real thought. I’ve also got the basic problem that they’re cliché, but all artists complain like that if something has been done more than twice and flowers have been done more than twice. Now, this doesn’t mean I never buy flowers for a girl. I have done so several times, but the effect is heightened because when I do it, it proves that I did some thinking, went through my bag of tricks and decided that as Hardison said, you can’t hack a classic.

Speaking as an artist, my specialty is packages. Providing not one gift, but five. A little surprise package, with a continuing run of surprises. Sometimes, there’s even a cute little instruction sheet explaining the uses and reasons for each item. The result is a gift meant only for one, and a more impressed girl who knows that real thought went into this. And I still spend less than a dozen roses cost, even with shipping. I’ll give an example, I once sent someone a bad day kit. The bad day kit included (if I’m remembering correctly) a CD of music, a bag of candy, a comically small teddy bear and… oh I’m sure there were some other things. This was years ago now and I can’t remember every damn thing. However, I’m sure the girl (or girls because I’ve used the kit more than once) can chime in down in the comments section and tell you what was in theirs. It’s a memorable gift and always gets a good reaction. Now granted, once the candy is eaten a major part of the gift is gone, but you still end up with more than just a pack of dead flowers that you thrown away with no memorabilia besides an odd smell.

Okay, so maybe you don’t want to produce an entire package, sometime you just want to give on gift. I know people aren’t always ready for a huge collection of surprises. Sometimes you don’t want to deliver a blast of fun, sometimes you want a little something. Better yet, sometimes you want something that can sit on her desk at work. You like things to sit on desks at work because someone might ask about them and she can go “Oh that? Yeah, someone thinks I’m really special and gave me that today.” There is something to be said for making your girl the prettiest little princess in the office pool. HOWEVER! Flowers have been done my friend and there is a world outside that flowery box. I once had the idea to send a bag of flour to a girl, but I never went through with it. That would have been awesome though, flour instead of flowers. It would have totally gotten me laid when I thought of it in 1993, because conceptual jokes like that were huge at the time. The problem is, that’s a pun and we here at Fancy Industries are above puns.

So what do you do? You can have things delivered, but what? Well, that depends on the girl. Or perhaps it depends on the guy. Maybe you’re a girl/gay man who wants to give her/his boyfriend a nice something. It’s not my place to assign gender roles, particularly when I live in a world where no one ever sends me flowers EVER! I once got flowers on my birthday. ONCE! No one ever sends ME presents at work. I’m not disappointed or hurt, I’m just terribly, terribly angry. I’m not prepared to get into a big talk about gender politics so if you want to discuss that, go talk about it somewhere else. Today, we’re talking about guys giving gifts to girls and my problems with flowers. We’ll talk gender relations later. Right now, I’ve got other things on my mind.

So you want to send just one gift, one quick thing, right? Okay, here’s my suggestion to you, pay attention to her likes and dislikes. I’m fully aware that sounds like dipshit advice. That sounds like we should be sitting on the floor with our legs crossed, but I promise you this isn’t kindergarten. It’s just… that’s the sort of thing people forget when buying a quick gift. That’s why flowers are so much of a staple, it’s something girls are supposed to like, which I guess is another problem for me. It’s like, after that you might as well buy a unicorn poster or possibly some kind of ring with a big rock on it. Also, get her a kitchen and steal her shoes because your mentality is already in the 14th century and there are precious few dragons to kill these days. It just shows no thought whatsoever beyond “Dur… thing with boobs like pretty stuff” and I am against that sort of non-thinking in all its forms. Also, damn, I just nearly made flowers part of the rape culture. Good thing I deleted the sentence where I was going to the logical place after the kitchen comment. One must check and see if flowers are the best gift, or would something more personalized (or at least specific beyond kindergarten-level basic gender roles) go down a little better.

Examples help, so here is one. About a year ago, Syd was having a couple of bad days, so I girded my loins and decided to make her lunch. I had to go to the store to get some lunch things for her, and it was late, so I went to Meijer, which if you’re from the wrong part of the world, is a 24 hour market/superstore. One of the things that Meijer has is a toy isle. I walked down it, just looking to see what I could see, and I saw this guy here. At least, I think that’s the one, I’ve never seen it since I pulled my trick. See, I put the toy at the bottom of the bag and piled her food on top so that it wouldn’t be obvious until she got her lunch out and ate it. She really liked Iron Man, and was mega enthusiastic about the whole thing last year, so she really liked the thing. It’s still at her desk at work, presumably protecting her reproduction of a Chac-Mool statue she also has on her desk. So I gave her a happy meal, that’s what it amounts to, and she was happy and the item is still on her desk reminding her of it. So that worked better in that situation.

Now we’re getting to the place I really want to take us. If you’ve skimmed most of this, start reading now. There are subtle hints a girl will give you, if you listen for them, that will give you an idea of what gifts are going to go down well. She will say things like “I’ve always loved Moby Dick, but my copy is really beat to shit. I’d love a hard cover version, but it’s expensive.” Now, it’s not usually appropriate to run to your computer and order a copy right there and then, but you can squirrel that idea away for the next gift giving opportunity. Or perhaps she’ll mention a lifelong love for unicorns, but never (EVER) rainbow colored unicorns. Ah, now you have a go to idea for a gift. You just look for unicorns that don’t have rainbows for manes and tails. That’s harder than it sounds and sometimes you have to guy your nephew a dinosaur to cover up the fact that you also bought a couple of unicorns for her birthday and then forget you bought her those unicorns until like two weeks after her birthday and only find them on your own birthday and decide, fuck it, and give them to her on your birthday because what the hell, right? This happened to a friend of mine.

There are places where flowers are a good idea. Those places are only reachable through researching the recipient’s likes and dislikes, which is always a requirement for me anyway. What I’m saying is that I don’t do flowers for an opening salvo, I go for something else. It might seem like a little thing, but I don’t think so.

Next time, we’ll talk about reversing gender policies and you girls can send me a gift at work once in a while, ‘kay? The patriarchy won’t destroy itself you know.

August 25, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , | Leave a comment

The New Thundercats show sucks

Syd thought I should watch the New Thundercats show, so she showed it to me. Some of you can probably see the error in her ways already.

I didn’t like the first two episodes of the new Thundercats. It was one of the most Tropetastic pieces of shit I’ve seen in years. I mean look at that TV Tropes page. Look how long it is, there have only been like 6 episodes so far and it’s longer than the original series’ page! There was not a word, idea, or concept that we hadn’t seen a million times before. It was like they heard about the Hero’s Journey but didn’t even bother to read the wikipedia page on it. I was seriously sitting there shouting at the screen after a while… “I’d only slow you down? Really?” and second later “I’m not ready? Did he just say, I’m not ready! Holy fuck! Is there a single word in this thing that’s original?”

And then episode 3 was Moby Dick (complete with lines from the book) and after bitching my way through that episode Syd decided I was a lost cause and went to bed. I didn’t watch anymore after that, I think I’ve probably had enough. When Highlander the Animated Series has more originality (and more memorable music) then your show is fucked.

While I’m here though…
If I may ask, where were the guards for Heir Apparent Lion-O when he was getting in fights in the first episode? He’s the next king and people are getting ready to kill him and only Tygra gets in the way? The fuck? I don’t care if he was unpopular, that shit just don’t fly. And why the fuck doesn’t Snarf talk? Snarf was the lynchpin of that show. He was the one who watched over Lion-o and made sure he did the right thing. Without Snarf the show is lost! And if one of you mother fuckers compares him to Orko I will slap the taste outta yer mouth. Orko was a trouble causing twerp, Snarf was the guiding light of that show and I will NOT have you comparing him to Oroko!

August 25, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | 14 Comments

“Geeky Girls” Are Also “Just Plain Girls”

I’d like to talk to you for a moment about women. Now, I’m going to say some things, horrible things, stereotypical things, and worst of all, true things. I’m going to cast my net wide and give my brush board strokes and I’ll probably batten down my hatches or seize my mizenmast or some other bullshit. The metaphors WILL NOT STOP! Not everything I’m about to say is going to apply to every girl, or every boy. However, as far as rough sketches of convenient thumbnails go, I’m going to be laser precise and probably do… something like something else that’s really spot-on… with a razor or something. I’m also going to say girl instead of woman, but I’ll also say boy instead of man so you can deal with the fact that I’m infantilizing everyone.

Most people say that Geek Girls are just like geeks, only better because they’re also girls. I have a different view. I say they’re girls, but they’re also geeks, which can be more problematic. I know this is one of those word swap things that generally annoys me, but here’s the thing, I always see it as “Oh yeah, and you don’t need to buy her flowers, you can just get her the latest WoW booster deck!” in those lists about dating Geeks Girls, proving how much the writer knows about WoW and women. See, all girls like to get some flowers or the equivalent now and then. Something that shows you love and adore her, something that she can put on her desk to silently announce that she is, in fact the prettiest princess for the day. What I’m saying is that she needs to be able to show everyone else you love her too. Geek or not, you need to show and prove. You bitches ain’t never gonna get out of needing to learn some poetry if you want to score.

See, your basic geek girl is a girl first, right? Before she knew about Trek Wars or Dr. Firefly or Buffy the True Blood Slayer or whatever it is you dweebs watch (I wouldn’t know) she was a normal girl with a love of horses and pink dresses. Even today, they’ve all got a horse poster or vampire book stashed away somewhere. Your geeky girl is a girl first, and possibly a woman, but I wouldn’t know about that. She worries about her weight, and if her hair looks nice and about how will she ever give the patriarchy what for if she worries about her weight and her hair and so on. And then, on top of that basic girlness, there is this level of geekiness. The awkwardness, the social anxiety (made worse because their bullies would be other girls who are almost exclusively mental torturers), the forgetting that not everyone knows the name of every character on the screen in any given Star Wars movie because they had all the toys and kept them catalogued until the age of 17. I never did that, I just remembered their names, fuck cataloguing. This is why I’ll never be one of you, I can pass for human so easily, I might actually be one.

One of my problems with the whole Geeks who are also Girls thing is that it ignores the fact that these girls are in fact girls. In the minds of these people, it makes them boy geeks with tits and a different approach to hygiene, rather than actual girls who have a different approach to hygiene because that’s something girls do. Too many times, the ‘man with tits’ thing rears its head and I really hate that because it neglects the feminine side of the person… which is the bit I like. I’ve always despised when someone just tries to break a person down to what amounts to a male stereotype of something and then does a sprite swap and expects us to get excited because now it’s a girl. You can’t just say “And it’s also a girl” because I’m going to sit there and go “SHE! She is also a girl… or even better yet, a person.”

Now, the important thing to remember is that none of this is theory. Most the friends I had in school were either queer, or they were geeks. Some of them turned out to be queer geeks, which surprised absolutely none of us, but that’s not important right now. For about ten years I dated two completely different kinds of geeky girls, at the same time which meant I was able to compare and contrast their attitudes. While they both showed signs of being typical women, they were also typical geeks of their particular geek caliber. Not all the stereotypes fit, but they both showed enough signs of being just plain girls that they could walk among the general population and on the other hand one of them would occasionally snort when she laughed, so… you know… snorting when they laugh. So yeah, I know the geeky girl and I can be relied upon as an expert witness in a court of law should this extraordinarily specific expertise ever actually be needed by an attorney.

My personal understanding of feminism is that, at its heart, it desires equality but not actually sameness. Sameness would be impossible anyway since our brains don’t work anything like the same. As we must remain separate, we try for equality, but without sacrificing any of the intrinsic things that make us what we are. No amount of knowing that rape culture is a real thing and understanding the mechanics of fear that goes with being a female in this world is going to make me not want to watch a pretty girl as she walks by. I can adjust my behavior, but looking is right on my DNA next to swearing with an increasingly colorful and expansive vocabulary as the day goes on. My point is that we cannot simply say that a geek girl is a geek who also is… you know a girl, but rather a girl with all the positive and negative traits of womanhood and also a geek, with all the good and bad that goes with that as well.

Also, WoW booster deck? Really? And the only other solution to that problem was flowers? I need to hold a fucking class or something. You motherfuckers need to learn the fine art of invention. Jesus Christ in cream sauce, at least mix it up with a balloon or a teddy bear or something. I’ll still think you’re a common as mud, but I’ll at least respect you for being mud with a leaf ground into it or something.

August 24, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , | Leave a comment

Randomish photos


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August 24, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

Remove the fantasy and get a new tale

If you remove the fantastic or supernatural elements from a lot of stories (or merely discount them) they really sound much different.

Sleepy Hollow is the story of a “Nice Guy” school teacher who is after a girl for her money, but is shown the door by her inventive boyfriend.

Dracula is the story of a racist and his friends hounding a foreigner out of town, then chasing him home and murdering him, and all for the crime of macking on the local ladies.

Most of Stephen King’s stories just become “People in Maine are dicks” without the magic.

Tell Tale Heart is just a guy who kills his roomie and feels guilty about it. Although, that story has an unreliable narrator, so that could be all that’s going on anyway.

Big Trouble in Little China becomes ‘An idiot and his friends murder a prominent Chinese-American business man’ under these rules.

And without fantastic elements, Star Trek the Motion Picture is just a long 2 hour slog of watching the crew staring at a view screen. HEY! Wait a second…

August 20, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I make good nachos

I make some pretty good nachos.

Easy to do, my nachos.

Put refried bans on the bottom of a container, then some salsa, get fresh salsa if you can. Salsa goes on top of the beans.

Cook some hamburger/ground pork and cook it with an onion and a can of tomatoes (or possibly some picante sauce) put the hamburger on the salsa.

Then get some Queso and put that on top.

Put that in a 400-degree oven, unless your working in Celsius in which case you aren’t allowed nachos. You need to let it sit for about 10 minutes, really just long enough to get warm, not really hot.

While this concoction is heating, slice green onions or chives and get some sour cream. Also, if you haven’t got some tortilla chips I’m very disappointed in you right now.

When the food is heated, take it out of the oven and sprinkle some shredded cheese on it, then go at it with the green stuff.

To serve, spoon out into a bowl and each with chips. If you hate corn chips, and America, you can eat with a spoon.

August 19, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I may just leave Google+ soon.

“Go fuck your mother, you unyielding cunt-face whoremonger!”

–Oscar Wilde

You know, I’m really starting to think it would be easier to just walk away from Google+ and not bother with them at all. I’ve heard of a few people getting completely locked out of everything Google related when G+ suspended their account to want to go on with this. I’ve got my e-mail, a carbon copy of my blogs, and one or two other things… do I want to loose them because some asshole at Google decided he’s going to make an example of anyone they think has a fake name? Fake names like William Shatner, who got his account suspended because that’s obviously not a real name.

How many people lost their e-mail, pictures, blogs and everything else? Wrong way to phrase the question. If just one did, or even if I’m lead to believe one did, that’s too many. The PR blunder of letting the “If you use G+, they will take away everything Google form you” rumor get started is going fuck their little social network to death before it leaves beta. It’s a stupid policy and demanding we go along with it just ain’t helping.

No, sorry, I don’t want to play their game. At this point, their insistence just makes me want to dig in my heels and remain stubborn. I didn’t want to sign up for this in the first place, I never wanted to come here, and now they’re giving me a very good reason to leave.

I know I’m not really anonymous on the internet, but that’s hardly the point. The name I’m using on G+ is the name THEY SUGGESTED I use and now I’m worried I’ll loose my ability to do anything on any of their networks if I don’t fall into line. That makes me want to say “Fuck Google” and leave them entirely. I don’t HAVE to use G+. To be honest, there isn’t much there. The people I have, are mostly on Facebook or LJ or Twitter. Not many people I’m friends with have joined, and even fewer are actually posting anything like exclusive content. One or two people are, but that’s hardly enough to warrant me bowing my head to their bullying tactics. There is no real reason for me to go there, and I can use other services for anything they’re doing. I don’t really want to, because it’s a hassle to change you’re e-mail and tell everyone and make sure they update their records and all the other things that would have to be done are also a pain.

But I now fear I may have to, and that makes me an annoyed user. Just a little hint, from me to you Google, paranoia does not a happy user base make. People will go where they think they can be happy, where they can be themselves, if you insist on them using their real life names… we have Facebook for all our ‘pretending to be who people think you are’ needs. People need a place to be themselves, and often they need a different name than the one they were born under to do that.

To be completely honest with you, it’s making me rethink using anything Google for any reason what-so-ever. I don’t want to do business with bullying douchebags. This Google+ place isn’t fun and being part of it has not been a positive experience. I won’t delete just yet, but I suddenly vanish from there, I’m allowed to be Grey Weirdo everywhere else without threat of banishment.

August 17, 2011 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment