“Pits, tits, and naughty bits”
Donna and I watched President Biden’s SOTU-by-another-name speech last night.
Rex Tillerson (remember him?) once took a cognitive test. They asked him to correctly characterize Donald Trump after spending five minutes in the same room with him. He passed with flying colors. The doctors, they were amazed. Some of them are still crying.
I’m in my 70s now, and when I write the only organization I represent is me, so I reckon I can be a curmudgeon and disagree with the AP Stylebook on a point or two.
Maybe one of the reasons I love science fiction as much as I do is the presentation of worlds, especially on the screen, where people of all ethnicities, races, and genders live and work together and no one gives it even the slightest thought.
I swear, these God-bothering scolds keep padding their lists.
A friend gently hinted I’d gone a bit overboard on Facebook and Instagram with kitchen photos, to which I responded, “Well, if you can’t have fun with social media, what’s it even for? Oh, right … handing your personal information over to faceless corporations to use in targeted advertising.”
… when I look at what passes today for free online and electronically-delivered written content … long posts that nobody reads on Facebook, threaded posts on Twitter, Tumblr and Storify accounts, email newsletters … it’s hard to figure out why these forms are any better than the traditional weblog.