I still aten't dead...

[active_apathy]

...but my Intarwebz0rz are, in short, le broken. So, here I am, posting on 'educational' Intarwebz0rz so that I don't just vanish from all existence.

Um, again.

Now, I'd like to start by pointing out that Jeph Jacques has officially made me want a Roomba, by way of this fiendish work of subliminal marketing Questionable Content comic.¹

Also, I want to make a new icon out of that comic. As you'd expect, my grin is both little and crafty.

Now, on to other 'content', so that I can try some kind of posting regime change.

I use public transport. Public transport has graffiti, and today's was particularly inspiring. On the back of the seat, there's what can only be a magnificient and glorious reflection on the role of graffiti as unspoken and pervasive social comment, as a way for the spraycan-wielding masses to have their views moved into the public arena³ to raise awareness for their opinions and viewpoints all too often slandered as the unimportant mumblings of youths in horribly oversized hoodies.

Indeed, this particular item of graffiti calls attention to the stifling of individual choice, to the patriarchy's attempts to dictate how lives should be lived, to the ultra-conservative agenda of deciding just how we should do everything. It calls for reflection, for enjoyment, and for personal decisionmaking in the process of finding personal pleasure, while drawing attention to the flood of confusion that comes with making a decision in our option-rich society of choice paralysis and of instant gratification.

Why, yes, it's a slogan suggestive of endemic social ills and of a brighter but bleaker light dawning on the horizon, just over the next display of discounted Sharpies. "For a good time", it says, calling out its challenge to all and sundry, and illustrating the human condition.

Or illustrating that an old lady whapped them over the head with her cane. Or illustrating laziness. Or illustrating that even discounted Sharpies run out. Or something.

Public transport also has the radio, and for some reason, many people⁴ who drive passengers around the place listen to talkback radio. And this time, the miscellaneous talkback host (for they all sound the same) was ranting about, of all things, cryogenics.

Now, let's be honest here. Rabid frothing could be inspired from this individual if I were to simply kissed my partnerperson somewhere near him. Which, really, fun on so many levels. But, that's not all. This particular ultraconservative is also deeply offended by the freezing of people (especially just heads of people) who hope to be defrosted back to health and life one day.

Deeply offended. Deeply, outrageously offended. He'd offer the cryogenically frozen crowd a frosty reception, but for the fear it'd just encourage them into their little freezers.

This made me wonder where this could lead, and if we could use it as a deterrent for future acts of ultraconservative talkback radio. And now, one day, I kind of want my head to be cryogenically frozen, locked into a wildly passionate kiss⁵ with the cryogenically frozen head of some other girlperson⁶ in an appropriately-transparent freezing device, such that ultranconservative talkback radio hosts could be dragged before it and forced to stare forever and ever and ever (because no-one will be able to actually tell when they become gibbering fools).

Except that'd just make them more rabid.

And as a frozen head I'd never be able to get a Roomba.

1. But, seriously, they'd be fun. Everyone whose account of Roombaness I've seen has loved them. Obviously, there's something to this whole 'not-having-to-actually-vacuum' thing, doubly so because it involves a cute robot².
2. A cleaning Cylon might also be fun, but is understandably dangerous around any kind of home network and will have your faithful PC trying to suck dust out of carpet for it in mere minutes.
   
3. Or, in the case of buses, all around the public arena.
4. Generally, it's the ones whose heads spin around when you hug girlfolk where they can see, or who expect that they should have absolute authority over all the road, or the ones who refuse to stop for so much as a second if you're even an inch away from a bus stop when they pass. Interestingly, the suckier the listener, the more rabid the talkback host. Abandon hope, all ye who John Laws hear.
5. Well, one particular and especially passionate moment of the kind of kiss that'd be even better than Buttercup and Westley's kiss, because. I. said. so.
6. Possibly the partnerperson, but I'd rather let her make her own decisions about being turned into a novelty ice cube.
   

Comments

[deepfishy.livejournal.com]

If I didn't think my puppies would flip it over and chew it to see how it works, I'd totally get a Roomba! Who *wouldn't* like a cute vacuuming robot?! (other than my dogs)

And I have a theory (it's a good one!...) that talkback radio was invented as a medical treatment to correct low blood pressure. (this theory should be understood within the framework of the "me-o-centric" universe - since I can't listen to talkback without my blood pressure rising, it ipso facto exists only for this purpose) Alas, some poor fool thought it was Serious Business and has inflicted overdoses on the wider population.

[active-apathy.livejournal.com]

That's quite a theory. Me, I just kind of laugh at it, because there's not much else to do. But I laugh with elevated blood pressure! Or something.