All right, let’s do this.
This is a live blog of the war between Anonymous and those Anonymous believes have violated the rights of Wikileaks Editor in-Chief Julian Assange. Continue reading
All right, let’s do this.
This is a live blog of the war between Anonymous and those Anonymous believes have violated the rights of Wikileaks Editor in-Chief Julian Assange. Continue reading
The Georgia Guidestones
In an isolated spot in Elbert County Georgia stands one the most mysterious monuments in American history. The Georgia Guidestones are are an arrangement of large granite slabs that are arranged in a manner that allow them to be used as an astrological calendar and clock. This would make the structures interesting enough, but the uncertainty about who built the monument and the cryptic messages written upon it make the Guidestones the object of much speculation from the conspiracy theory community. Continue reading
A nod to 92BuickLeSabre who wrote and earlier post on anonymity online.
Everybody hates trolls. They are the boogyman who terrorize children in the dark forest of the internet and who ruin the comments section of daily newspapers. Part of the creation of this blog was the desire to escape the trolls and jackasses who seem to be invading Gawker. However, I would argue that trolling, when done right, can be a force for good in the uglier places on the internet. Let’s face it, there are plenty of people who will say and advocate completely reprehensible things online. Trolling is a way of saying no to terrible ideas on forums and sites where bad people are encouraging awful ideas and it is a way to punish individuals and people who break online etiquette. Here’s a couple of examples. Continue reading
Warning: Author is dweeb academic type who does not normally do “creative writing.” She apologizes in advance for any tedium. Thanks Mr. Meat, this is great.
I don’t sleep. Even when I was a kid I was up at three in the morning staring at the ceiling. During the summer I stayed with my grandparents on an isolated farm in the Western Nebraska scrub. My grandmother didn’t sleep either. We would lay on her bed in the still hours and she would read the comics to me while my grandfather slept in the recliner he passed out in at eight o’clock. Continue reading