Classical seasoning

Okay, look, I am of the opinion that a little Vivaldi goes a long way. There was a while, back in the last century, when it seemed like every time you turned around, there was another bleeding season coming down the classical airwaves.

However, I did find this kind of amusing. Yes, they have quite the schtick going, and one of them literally lies down on the job for a while. But still.

Also, it makes a nice change from ice bucket challenges.

Neither wit nor wisdom; not by half

As I was saying yesterday, there is no end to the credulity and idiocy of people with Internet connectivity, especially those on social media.

For example, this has been making the rounds since the news of Robin Williams committing suicide last week (frequently accompanied by solemn virtual nods and "so true"), and it just makes me want to kick someone:

Honestly, people: stringing together a few disjointed platitudes and tacking on the name of a Chinese philosopher constitutes neither wisdom nor kindness. And these particular platitudes are just fatheaded. 

Depression has nothing to do with living in the past. Living in the future may or may not involve some degree of anxiety. And living in the present can include dealing with all manner of shit, with no peace in sight.

As for Lao Tzu being responsible for this pernicious codswallop, show some respect.

Outrage, disgust and satire

Oh, I suppose it was inevitable: Facebook is testing the concept of adding a label to links to “stories” from The Onion. The label says “[satire]”. Because, as you may have noticed, people latch on to outrageously ridiculous headlines and pass them on with their own expressions of outrage and disgust at how it’s possible such outrageous and disgusting things are allowed to happen.

I’m pretty sure that they rarely even read the accompanying story. But then it might have words containing more than two syllables. Like “syllables”. Which would only confuse them further.

It’ll be interesting to see how this plays out, because I’m not at all convinced that the kinds of people who pull the trigger on such stories as “Obama to Cut Costs by Packing Lunch Every Day for U.S. Populace”, or “Fan at Indians Game Upset to Find Someone Else in his Section” have any notion of what satire is. And don’t get me started on irony.

I do cut some slack on confusion that might be generated by the site’s business headlines. Because it seems entirely probable that “T.J. Maxx Job Application Just Asks Prospective Employees How Much They Plan to Shoplift” and that “GlaxoSmithKline Releases New Drug to Treat People Who Just Feel Sort of Weird Sometimes”. In fact, I expect to see commercials for the latter any time now, with the voice over intoning, “Ask your doctor if Blifistix is right for you.”

Also, I’m betting that people are already contacting Frito-Lay in response to this one: “Frito-Lay Contest Offers Consumers Chance to Appear in Upcoming Bag of SunChips”.

The reason I think this is that I’ve seen these sorts of waves of ravening outraged and disgusted responses to every badly-written whack-job “statement” that someone Photoshops about [insert tech giant or tech giant executive here].

For example, a few months ago this popped up on Facebook:

I swear the response was the profanity-strewn badly-spelled virtual version of “Liberty Leading the People”. This was one early exchange that came across my bows:

I pointed out that this sort of hoax would be more impressive if the perp had spelled “campaign” correctly, and got the order of “pending further investigation” right. Frankly, it gives Zuckerberg a bad name. I know he dropped out of Harvard and all, but he should get credit for at least knowing how to run spellcheck.

(I did rather enjoy the presumption of Facebook’s legal department issuing “laws, though.)

Well, my point here is that labeling stuff from The Onion as satire is both futile and inadequate, when people raise their pitchforks at things like a Zuckerberg ukase on cleaning up Facebook; or healthcare death panels. The company doesn’t have enough employees or a clever enough algorithm to be able to sift through all the bogus crap out there.

Meanwhile, here’s The Onion’s response:

That one was a no-brainer.

Dairy intake

Okay, we’re headed into the dog days, so I thought, well, time for something animal-related that’s just plain funny.

First off, I give you Bob and Dice, two cats who like yoghurt.

Bob just goes for it, possibly thinking that there’s enough for both of them. Dice is not having that, and Bob doesn’t seem to figure out what’s happening.

Perhaps he’s used to it; although he looks rather befuddled. At least there’s no fur flying.

And then we have Daisy and Cooper, two dogs who obviously like McDonald’s ice cream. If you can watch this without cracking up, you need to have your sourpuss intake adjusted.

At first I felt sorry for Cooper, because he shows such anxious longing, it was just heart wrenching. Then he went into action.

Actually, I had to watch it a couple of times, because I think he shot into hyperdrive, and I wasn’t sure what I’d just seen.

It’s videos like these that make me think the whole Internet is worth it.

Gratitude Monday: Smokey all around me

It’s Gratitude Monday. I was going to post about something else, but then yesterday I was doing my rather pathetic intervals around the 'hood and all of a sudden NPR’s Linda Wertheimer was interviewing Smokey Robinson.

Whereupon I swear the early morning Valley they call Silicon overcast just disappeared, and I decided to layer in three extra spurts of jogging, just because I was awash with energy and joy.

The occasion of the interview was Robinson’s upcoming release of an album that revisits some of his great songs, with him singing duets with the likes of Mary J. Blige, James Taylor and Elton John. (It's out as of Wednesday.) Yeah—Elton and Smokey singing “Tracks of My Tears”:

But the interview itself is just wonderful. The man is more than a living legend; he’s living history—and future-history-in-process. Oh, yeah—Diana Ross? One of the “fifty groups just in our neighborhood”. How about the more than 4000 songs he’s written? Anyone else worried that Universal/Comcast has them all stashed away in their soul-crushing corporate dragon-hoard depths? And—you want to keep your singing voice for decades? Forget the hot tea with lemon and honey, baby; practice yoga. It’s all connected.

Well, apologies to any early risers in Sunnyvale yesterday, who were greeted on their paper-fetching run by the sight of a middle-aged redheaded chick boogying past their rancher with fingers snapping and hips swinging. Because Smokey and Steven Tyler singing “You Really Got a Hold on Me” is my new jam.

For which I am deeply grateful.