It's been so long since I posted anything on this blog I wouldn't blame all my loyal followers (both of them) for having wandered off into much greener cyber-pastures.
Over the past year, I got mildly addicted to an interactive storytelling site called "Cowbird," which seemed to start out as a thoroughly joyful and enjoyable forum for swapping stories about just about whatever came to mind, with non-judgmental feedback in the form of "Love" notices and, more recently, "Retells," which seem to be where the trouble crept in.
Cowbird has become almost nauseatingly saccharine — lots of weepy politically-correct claptrap about love, peace, meditation, Obama worship, limp-wristed liberalism, dying loved ones, alcohol and drug recovery programs, self-aggrandizement, and lots and lots of finger-wagging from people who seem, in typical Big Brother fashion, to know what's best for everybody.
In the beginning there were a number of interesting, quirky, outspoken writers who contributed material to Cowbird. Some of the more robust have changed their electro-identities, and continue to drop interesting little bombs into the midst of all the handwringing and whining about — well, let's see —
The wonderfulness of being a federal pencil pusher who fancies himself a Natural Leader, who is also a Gifted Storyteller and can go on ad nauseam about the wonderfulness of his adventures as a drug-bum deserter who went AWOL from active service in the Navy and somehow avoided getting his ass court-martialed;
Endless droning about the Bible — most recently a tedious exegesis on the Book of Job, together with a lot of other self-righteous claptrap, all accompanied by annoying, loud music (yes, you can put music on Cowbird);
Lots and lots and lots of meaningless "poetry."
Well, dear Reader, you can see that your old friend, the Curmudgeon is alive, kicking, bitching, griping, and loaded for bear.
Roger, out…
Over the past year, I got mildly addicted to an interactive storytelling site called "Cowbird," which seemed to start out as a thoroughly joyful and enjoyable forum for swapping stories about just about whatever came to mind, with non-judgmental feedback in the form of "Love" notices and, more recently, "Retells," which seem to be where the trouble crept in.
Cowbird has become almost nauseatingly saccharine — lots of weepy politically-correct claptrap about love, peace, meditation, Obama worship, limp-wristed liberalism, dying loved ones, alcohol and drug recovery programs, self-aggrandizement, and lots and lots of finger-wagging from people who seem, in typical Big Brother fashion, to know what's best for everybody.
In the beginning there were a number of interesting, quirky, outspoken writers who contributed material to Cowbird. Some of the more robust have changed their electro-identities, and continue to drop interesting little bombs into the midst of all the handwringing and whining about — well, let's see —
The wonderfulness of being a federal pencil pusher who fancies himself a Natural Leader, who is also a Gifted Storyteller and can go on ad nauseam about the wonderfulness of his adventures as a drug-bum deserter who went AWOL from active service in the Navy and somehow avoided getting his ass court-martialed;
Endless droning about the Bible — most recently a tedious exegesis on the Book of Job, together with a lot of other self-righteous claptrap, all accompanied by annoying, loud music (yes, you can put music on Cowbird);
Lots and lots and lots of meaningless "poetry."
Well, dear Reader, you can see that your old friend, the Curmudgeon is alive, kicking, bitching, griping, and loaded for bear.
Roger, out…
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