Reviewing the situation

Let’s close out the week with a little something from Twitter.

I’ve written before about Twitter ads—so-called “promoted tweets” that appear indiscriminately in your feed. As with their counterparts on web pages, I usually don’t bother to register what they’re advertising as I click through to block the advertiser.

But very occasionally I’ll take a look at how others among the twitterati respond. This time it was some lame outfit calling itself ReviewInc.

Since they’ve had an account for five years and still haven’t struck 1000 tweets, they pretty much scream “low rent”, as do the actual tweets in their feed. My guess is that business is not booming, so they thought they’d go for a promotion.

You can see the very loose grasp of the whole social media “engagement” thing in these two telling exchanges:

I personally would not make ReviewInc my first point of contact when it comes to reputation management.

Favoring winds

As you know, I like what artists refer to as objets trouvés—things I spot around me, wherever I happen to be. And a while ago I spotted this on the mean streets of NoVa:

Now, HMS Hood (in her last incarnation) was the last cruiser built for the Royal Navy (commissioned in 1920), which was sunk in the Denmark Strait in May 1941 while in pursuit of the German heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen and battleship Bismarck. There were three survivors; 1415 men went down with Hood.

WRT this particular vanity plate, I kind of wondered about the connection—was it a naval history buff? The small badge decal is indicative of something closer:

That’s Hood’s badge (Ventis secundis, “with favorable winds”, was her motto), so I’m thinking that the driver is related to someone who might have served on her at some point.

Or—and I suppose one has to consider this, in these days of stolen valor—someone who’d like people to think so.

Nah—I’m going with the relative.

Teamwork

Some time ago PBS ran a program on White House staff, and how they work as an integral team with the President and First Family. (This was pre Klepto, so I’m guessing that it’s not quite the same since 19 January. He has, after all, famously referred to the White House as a dump.)

It was fascinating, actually, because it’s rather like the crew of a naval vessel—frigate maybe. Everyone working hand-in-glove with everyone else, perfectly synchronized.

This one clip, of Jacqueline Kennedy in a receiving line, demonstrates this. Check the handoff at the end.

Man, I love it when a good plan comes together.

When horses fly

Quick one today—this came across my Twitter feed, and tickled my fancy, as it did the poster and many of those who commented on it.

It illustrates the push-pull that goes on in technological advances, particularly in institutions like the military. Nothing ever progresses in a straight line, there’s thrust, pushback, feint…kind of like dialectical materialism.

Anyway, you can see Colonel Hoffman’s point, can’t you?

Gratitude Monday: ordinary miracles

Man—this one’s a tough Gratitude Monday: sixteenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and Irma still a force across the South, after causing catastrophic devastation in the Caribbean. It’s hard for me to grasp the destruction I’ve seen in the photos and video of places like Saint Martin and Puerto Rico. It’s as though enormous monsters stamped across the islands, flattening everything in their path. Maybe even going back to stamp some more.

Or, it’s like photos and video of parts of Europe in 1945.

And WRT 9/11: over the weekend I was contemplating the numbers of deaths that have flowed from those attacks and the wars that are still going on—proximate and collateral, military and civilian; American, Iraqi, Afghan, Syrian—and the destabilization off the entire region, which triggered the refugee crisis the likes of which we have not seen since 1945. What would the Requiem Mass for those hundreds of thousands look like? How long would it go on?

What if we had to name each name, and pass round a photo of each one? How long would that litany take to recite?

Well, but today is about gratitude. So, while holding the welfare of all those in the paths of storms (manmade or natural) in my heart, I am grateful that in my tiny portion of the world, I can have my patio door open to listen to the birds. The worst that immediate nature can do to me manifests itself in the mosquitos that come after me when I dash out to replenish the bird feeders. No chance of gale winds smashing the glass, or torrential rains seeping into my house.

I have working electricity, even if the wiring schema is straight out of Dalí. Potable drinking water is available every time I turn on the tap. My refrigerator is well stocked, but if it weren’t, I could walk to the two nearest grocery stores to me, and drive to about four others within two miles. I’m employed, so I can afford to buy gasoline and to make repairs to my car (even though I find that latter expenditure for some reason really, really annoying).

I am employed, in a job that contributes something meaningful to an organization that contributes something meaningful to the world. I have library cards for four systems in Northern Virginia (have not got around to getting one from D.C.), plus I still have access to the six systems in the Valley They Call Silicon, which provides me a wealth of information, entertainment and curiosity-satisfaction. I’ve got Internet connectivity in case I want to expand my understanding of present-day crackpottery and douchebaggery.

And my network of friends sustains me, enriches me, invigorates me and frankly, at times, just keeps me going.

So these are the things for which I am grateful. In the face of historical and present-day reminders of the burdens of sorrow, grief and dejection that today represents, I hope that those affected by these disasters find things—no matter how small—that will evoke a sense of thanksgiving.