Welcome to "More People Like Us", a [something something] sort of travel blog.
For those interested in the past (who is? *cough *dust) I used to blog as the Jabberlope, but now you can find me here most days..
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Grateful Ted
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Random Vocabulary Musings After the Open Mic
I like the word “slapdash”. The way it rolls off your tongue.
“Litany” comes in a close second.
Followed only by “cannoiter”. Though I’m not even sure that’s a word. Google says its not. So that’s that, I guess.
Two for two ain’t bad…
Photo reblogged from this isn't happiness. with 1,756 notes
Casey took the .45 snubnose and jammed it hastily into my pocket.
We were off the dog races and learning to be prepared was something that had started with my tenure in the Boy Scouts and continued all the way through the death of my former partner.
I was always learning to forget what I had learned before, but if that isn’t a truth I had learned about life the hard way then I don’t know what is.
Ten Rules for Fiction:
The venerable Elmore Leonard makes the case for good Elements of Style.
via This Isn’t Happiness and The Trad:
Ten Rules, Elmore Leonard
Source: nevver
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Go On When You Don’t Feel Like It
“Sometimes you have to go on when you don’t feel like it, and sometimes you’re doing good work when it feels like all you’re managing to do is shovel shit from a sitting position.”
Source: advicetowriters.com
What A Great Title. Next up, “Fire up the Ovens, Soylent Green Retirement Opportunities Await”.
“The current recession is a ‘forever recession’ because it’s the end of the industrial age, which also means the end of the average worker.”
From the article: “If You’re An Average Worker, You’re Going Straight To The Bottom”
Do you agree? Or does this just mean with fair salaries we wouldn’t be able to get 96oz. of Sludg-O from Walmart for 99¢? Because I’d gladly pay a buck-thirty-five if that’s what it takes.
This guy pissed me off at first with his annoying picture and agro quote, but he may have a point. Or not?
According to the Daily Show, whose fact checkers I’m actually inclined to trust at face value, we only get about a 23-25% savings from factories with conditions like Foxconn.
So, let’s review:
Suicides and indentured servitude VS. paying an extra $40 for my iPhone? We all know where this is going. Fuck it. I’m moving to India to be one of those guys who rolls across the country for donations. Better that than a Kardashian.
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Hipster Rain Dance.
To be repeated in toneless refrain whilst standing on your favorite street corner:
“Dear Rain, I like the fact that you have gone away, and allowed me to enjoy my daily activities in dry fashion— which means I won’t have to wear that ugly jacket mom bought for me— but I hear that there are some animals and plants and other things that rely on you. I haven’t really seen very much of that lately, but I think I remember a chapter about it in my high-school science text book. So, come again some other day, I guess. But only if you want to. PS - I also need an excuse to stay inside for a week and you were pretty good about giving that to me last year. Thnx, Winter/Tucker/Cody & Jade”
Meanwhile… in Tennessee
From today’s Huffington Post:
“They voted down a motion that requires students to be taught about the terrorism brought about by the Ku Klux Klan and what they did to ethnic and racial minorities, but they turn around and pass a provision that requires the teaching of the violence of the Black Panther Party.”
From the article: “Tea Party Groups In Tennessee Demand Textbooks Overlook U.S. Founder’s Slave-Owning History”
Oh, those crazy people in tricorn hats…
They couldn’t ever do anything bad, right…?
Uh-huh… Keep telling yourself that when your kid comes home talking about the benevolence of Atlantic Triangular Trading and how that kind of model could really help to open up the neighborhood.
I support any organization that embraces the tough, but fair opinion that everyone should have a place at the table.
QUICK RAP:
Girl Scouts in national controversy over accepting a transgender kid into their ranks. Other girl scout in California creates video protest (more than likely at the behest of politically minded star-fucking parentals). Furor ensues. Bandwagoning hate group the “Family Research Council” joins the fray saying the Girl Scouts “promote radical gay agendas”, — ps. I’m SOOOO interested to know what that is, by the way— abortion, and they “support the United Nations anti-population agenda”. More of that drivel can be found here.
Who do you support?
Let the Girl Scouts know they did the right thing. Buy some cookies. Reblog this. Make a poster. I am sincerely impressed with this organization’s adamantly progressive stance, particularly in light of so many others who back down in the face of the blowhard small-mindedness of fearful idiots for fear of fiscal or cultural blacklisting.
“If a child identifies as a girl and the child’s family presents her as a girl, Girl Scouts of Colorado welcomes her as a Girl Scout,” said the Colorado Girl Scouts, in a statement to a CNN affiliate. (source)
GO GS!
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To a challenging woman, who would have wanted to rewrite what I say no matter what it was. We miss you, Suzette
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The Secret of Getting Ahead
“The secret of getting ahead is getting started. The secret of getting started is breaking your complex overwhelming tasks into small manageable tasks, and then starting on the first one.”
-Mark Twain
It’s A Question of Who
In the bar tonight they have autographed cameo portraits of Tom Selleck and David Hasselhoff.
“With Love,
David”“Cheers,
Tom”
The stereo begins to play “On Some Faraway Beach” And all, somehow, is well with universe.
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TRU MineCraft
For two years I never truly saw the sun. I was in the mine before it came up, and not out again until after it fell for the evening. My complexion suffered horribly. I began to crave the comfort of our bathroom heat lamp.
My best friend throughout was Paul, who went with me neck and dirty neck, every inch down through the coal dust that coated our bodies. The soot grew so thick at times you were overwhelmed no matter how many years you’d got used to it. You could get accustomed to breathing it, and accustomed to blinking out the big bits, but when it caught you right in the eye it was unavoidable pain and then you had to take a moment to get on up out of the pit and walk down either to the hose or you had a bottle with you if you were smart.
I came to Pennsylvania not to marry myself to the mountains, or the people. I was traveling, the nicer way in those days that I referred to my being unemployed. I’d caught a train from out of Jersey and got spooked somewhere along the line at 5AM by the cracks of the bull sticks close at hand. I don’t care how low I get, but I’ll never join up with those men.
Sunup found me a road, and I was lucky it was summer so that I could buy a bit of fresh food and find a nice place to sleep right outside town. At the saloon was where I met Jim Deevers, who was mine boss at the time.
Then I met Clara, and had a reason to come back out of those pits everyday. Which, ironically, sent me back into them for longer, in an effort to work our way out of this.
This morning I had grit in my coffee. But I won’t blame any one specific thing for what’s happened. Not the pebble in my eye on the elevator, or the stubbed toe. It was just a shitty day all round. You know the type. The ones where you just wish you’d stayed in bed and waited for tomorrow. But then where does that leave you? If you start listening to those sorts of voices, then who knows how long you’ll hang about in your pajamas.
So, no, I don’t blame the new guy for putting a bit too much powder in the charge. It sat there for five days and who knows why today was the day it got picked up, except for the fact that, again, it’s just one of those days.
I sit in constant darkness with Paul. We don’t speak. We don’t move. Our backs are flat against the wall of the tunnel. On the other side of this collapse they are drilling feverishly towards us, and this comes across to us in here like the sound of a small gnat buzzing just behind your ear, right where you’d like to slap it but you can’t get there fast enough.
Dipping in and out of sleep from the darkness and the not talking and the not moving, you sometimes snap out of it and think to grab the bug which is making this noise; and then the at-turns-dry/at-turns-sticky sensation of real fortune sinks in and you remain fast where you are, breathing shallow, trying not to panic.
Trying not to think about what’s just beyond your hands if only you reached out, if only you turned on the light.
“I think the one thing that I’d like to most tell the world was that I loved a woman. Not terribly perfectly, but flawed and honest and true. She was my saving grace, I am not ashamed to admit. And if I die in service to that grace, I will have died a good man.”
I am whispering this aloud. “Shhh,” Paul hisses for me to be quiet. The whine of the drill and the blackness is all there is.
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