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Happy (almost belated) BlogDay

Posted on August 31, 2005 at 11:43 PM

I'm late with this one I know. There's still a few minutes left in the day, so here are my selections for BlogDay 2005:

• The blogs of Maddox and Zahara Jolie - Do you think Angelina knows her kids are blogging? The nanny needs to keep better tabs on them.
• the secret exploits of a girl in her mid-20s - the title says it all. An interesting look into the life of girl and the battles she had with her roommate Megan. Even though the two have recently parted ways, you can check out what was said if you look under the category my x-roomate is vigilent whore. The title alone tells it all. Good stuff.
• spamusement - Cartoons inspired by the subject lines of spam email. I personally like the one with Bill Gates and his blue screen of death life support machine.
• this is broken - a blog about broken things.
• Satan's Laundromat - a photoblog of NYC and surrounding areas. Make sure you check out the posts about wannabe KFC chicken stands named after states or presidents. Utah fried chicken?
• huffington's toast - A great parody on Arianna Huffingtons sham of blog. This blog truly hates that woman.
• daily dose of imagery - A great photoblog of Toronto, ay.
• the blog of death - Because everything must come to an end.

Until next year.

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Gadget of the week: The PivotDock

Posted on August 30, 2005 at 01:07 AM

For regular readers of this blog, you know what a sham my "Gadget of the Week" section of this site has been. I'm not saying the gadgets haven't been worthy of mention, it's the just that I haven't been too diligent about posting one every week. But today I saw something so extraordinary it moved me to update this section of my blog. Now, I could promise in the future to be more devoted to updating the Gadget of the week, but we all know how empty and fruitless this blog's promises can sometime be. I'm thinking about changing the title from "Gadget of the Week" to "Gadget of Whatever Timeframe I Damn Well Feel Like". Has a certain ring to it doesn't it?

With that said, on with the show.

The PivotDock is a USB dock for your iPod shuffle. It has the ability to swivel 180 degrees in order to prevent you from accidently bumping into the shuffle and damaging it. This is one gadget for the shuffle which truly has promise, as I am always leery of accidently hitting the shuffle as it protrudes outward from the computer when charging or synching. I should also mention it's both Mac and PC compatible. Buy before September 9th and you can get the PivotDock for only $9.99. A total bargain.

Side note: Major props to the SwitchEasy people for resisting the urge to be like the rest of the lame iPod accessory manufacturers and not naming this the iPivot, the iDock, the iUSBShuffleDock, or anything else starting with a lowercase i. This blog salutes you for your non-conformist zeal.

Posted by joeschmidt at 01:07 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

BlogDay 2005 is August 31st

Posted on August 29, 2005 at 11:56 PM

Since I've already missed Blogathon 2005 (though there's no way in hell I could post every 30min for 24 hrs, even if it IS for charity), and my 30 posts in 30 days idea fell flat on it's face, I thought I should at least mention that BlogDay 2005 is on August 31st. What is BlogDay you ask? Here's the low down:

For one long moment on August 31st, bloggers from all over the world will post recommendations of 5 new Blogs, preferably Blogs that are different from their own culture, point of view and attitude. On this day, blog surfers will find themselves leaping around and discovering new, unknown Blogs, celebrating the discovery of new people and new bloggers.

Cool idea in-and-of-itself, so check back tomorrow for the 5 or so blogs I'm going to list as apart of the BlogDay 2005 festivities here at JoeSchmidt.com. With over 200 blogs in my news aggregator, it won't be hard to pick a few interesting ones.

Oh, and about that whole 30 posts in 30 days thing, it's going to happen. Oh yes, it will happen. It's my density.

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"No Mr. McFly, I have no idea where Doc is."

Posted on August 17, 2005 at 07:00 AM

It's not too often you see one of these driving around:

Looks like the person driving it was either: A. lost or B. trying to find enough road to get up to 88 mph. But, judging by how long it took the person to get that Delorean started, I'm guessing there probably isn't a stretch of road anywhere on the planet that is long enough to allow this hunk of junk to achieve 88 mph.

Posted by joeschmidt at 07:00 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

His adventure begins...

Posted on August 15, 2005 at 09:03 AM

This blog would like to take a moment to congratulate the head of our legal department as he begins the first day of his formal education. It's truly amazing that a he has represented this blog so well for the past 8 months without any legal training, not to mention having ever stepped foot into a classroom of any kind.

Now, being the head of the legal department for JoeSchmidt.com isn't really the type of position a great legal mind like his aspires to, and we realize it is only natural for a person of his great intelligence to want to better himself. Which of course means he will eventually head for greener pastures. That day will unfortunately be here sooner than this blog cares to think about.

So with great joy, we would like to wish him well in his future endeavors. I think the following selection from the library here at JoeSchmidt.com sums things up quite nicely.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

By Dr. Seuss

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

Posted by joeschmidt at 09:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

My one year anniversary of being Wal-Mart free

(Legal Disclaimer: The following post is lengthy, tends to ramble, and contains anti Wal-Mart sentiments. If you suffer from A.D.D and/or an unrivaled love of Wal-Mart, please proceed with caution.)

For those of you who have read this blog since it's humble beginnings may know, I mentioned my personal ban against all things Wal-Mart and how I would someday blog about my last trip to the black hole of retail shopping.
Well, today at this very hour, exactly 365 days ago, I was making my final pilgrimage to Wal-mart.

Up until a fateful trip to Western Nebraska one year ago today, I was already about 9 months into my Wal-Mart free life. My personal ban against all things Wal-Mart began back in Dec 2003 when I read an article in Fast Company magazine entitled "The Wal-Mart you don't know". Truly an eye opening read.

I could list reasons why you shouldn't shop at Wal-Mart, but that wasn't the intention of this post. My advice to you, the consumer, would be to read the Fast Company article I mentioned, and then visit the following sites:

Dave Lippman on why he hates Wal-Mart

Hel-Mart: an anti Wal-Mart site hoping to educate the masses about Wal-Mart and it's practices

Let's continue on with my original story.

A group of us last year traveled on what is known as the "Tour of the West", mainly a group of guys that get together and travel to Western Nebraska to play golf for three days. So, on the morning of Saturday, August 14th, I was picked up bright and early at about 7:30am. It is at this juncture in which I make a most grievous error. Mainly, it involves my penchant for packing my bags at the last minute and my ability to oversleep. These two traits when mixed together can cause you to forget an item or two behind. This occasion was a prime example of that.

And with little fanfare, we were off. Though not much can be said for the 3+ hour car ride to Gothenburg other than a horrendously boring conversation about GPS. It so happens that in the vehicle in which I was traveling was a man we will refer to as "Keith". Keith is a gentleman of approx 63 or so years in age who was absolutely fascinated with GPS. He even had the presence of mind to bring his very own GPS unit with him and was actively using it to tell us real important things like, our current position, the rate of speed we were traveling, upcoming exits, or the number of GPS satellites currently available. I could go on, trust me, but I will leave it at that.

So we get to our first stop, Gothenburg Nebraska, home to Wild Horse Golf club, which by the way is one of the most sadistic golf courses this blog has ever played. And to top if off it's raining. Perfect. Because we all know that walking through wet, waist high buffalo grass all day long looking for your ball is the definitely the recipe for fun. Plus I got to hit out of bunkers like this:

Go me.

After the bloodshed that was my golf game finally ended, we headed into town to find something to eat. This being Western Nebraska of course there is nothing better to eat than a nice juicy cut of grade A beef. Not too hard to find in a town like Gothenburg.

Seeing that earlier in the day I posted a score that has the same amount of digits as the GDP of a third world country, I was in need of a little levity. So at dinner a conversation ensued with the topic of what would you eat for money. I believe the whole discussion started on whether a person could consume an entire shaker of salt, but I digress.

As the conversation continued, a certain friend of mine named, well, will call him "Dave", was posed with the offer of $10 to eat the fat leftover from the prime rib he just ate. To our astonishment he agreed. I say "astonishment" because this wasn't your normal, run of the mill piece of gristle. This was a grand daddy of them all, heart stopping, fist sized piece of fat. There was no way we thought he would do this.

But much to our chagrin he performed the task swimmingly. Though he didn't attack the fat like I had hoped, which was shoving the whole thing in his mouth, half chewing, half choking on the fat. He matter-of-factly sliced it up into bite size pieces and, over the course of the next 15 minutes, finished every last morsel. It turned out to be a lackluster event as I was hoping the local rescue squad would have to be called in, but it was a well earned $10, I must say. The next day, he would go on to shoot the best score of his life, to which of course he credits the consumption of the previous night's fat.

After dinner, we left Gothenburg and traveled further west to that night's destination of McCook Nebraska. To avoid 2+ hours of continued GPS talk I decided to take (or at least fake) a quick snooze.

We arrived in McCook, checked into our rooms, and unpacked. Later, everyone convened in my room to commence an evening of poker. As we played, I noticed I was smelling a little funky so I thought I would freshen up a little bit with a quick application of deodorant. But to my horror, it became apparent that I had left home without it. I broke out into a small panic thinking I would have to trudge through 36 holes of golf in blistering heat the following day, sans deodorant. I was desperate, but there was no way I was going to ask a group of 8 men if we could stop at the nearest grocery store so I could pick some up. I doubt such an establishment would even be open at 7:30am on a Sunday in McCook. And of course borrowing some was completely out of the question. It was apparent that I would have to take matters into my own hands.

Since I didn't have access to a vehicle (being that those who drove were already fast asleep) I went out to the parking lot to see what amenities the town had to offer to facilitate my deodorant purchase. Gazing across the darkened horizon, I saw it off in the distance. My nemesis. Yes, the familiar white neon glow of a Wal-Mart sign.

I was faced with a dilemma, walk to Wal-Mart and buy deodorant or play golf the next day with the certainty I would reek to high heaven. All I can say is Damn you Wal-Mart, Damn you.

With the decision made, I set out on my journey. It didn't seem too far away at the time. I mean, I could SEE the store from our parking lot, how far could it be? A half a mile or so? So I walked, and walked, and walked. Turns out that the Wal-Mart was about 2 miles away. And let me tell you, walking down the main drag of a small town just around the time the bars were closing only added to the excitement.

Once I arrived, I was greeted by the typical Wal-Mart customer. The mullet man, the wife-beater wearer guy, the creepy un-bathed sweat suit guy, the unidentified growth on neck gal, you know, the usual suspects. As it happens, their clientele at 1am isn't all that different from those who frequent the store at 1pm. Go figure.

I try to make my visit as short as humanly possible, so I bee-line over to the personal hygiene section, pickup a stick of deodorant, grab a coke for my journey back, and pay. Needless to say that my self esteem at this point is a tad bit lower than normal. I guess walking 4 miles round trip to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night for a stick of deodorant will do that to a person.

I arrived back at the hotel 90 minutes after my journey had begun. I was hot, tired, and smelled putrid. I took a shower and finally hit the sack around 2am. Only to awaken 4 hours later and play 36 holes of golf. B-E-A-utiful.

Our trip ended the day after my 36 hole death march through the hills of McCook. Though we just HAD to swing back through Gothenburg on the way home to Omaha and play Wild Horse one more time. By this time I was a broken man. I had played 72 horrendous holes of golf in the span of approx. 48 hours, watched a man eat a fistful of fat for money, was subjected to countless hours of GPS talk with a 60+ year old man, and had to walk 4 miles to a Wal-Mart in McCook Nebraska to buy deodorant at 1am. Saying that this was a definite low point in my life would be an understatement.

Although, not all was lost. Having made it through this ordeal has taught this blog a valuable lesson in which I will make great strides in the future to avoid this type of scenario. As deodorant will ALWAYS be the first thing I remember to pack. For we shall never meet again Wal-Mart. Never.

Posted by joeschmidt at 12:57 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

A light in the attic and A Boy Named "Sue"

Posted on August 10, 2005 at 12:42 AM

As a child I truly enjoyed reading Shel Silverstein books. The characters, the illustrations, and his creative imagination all made for a memorable read. Yet today I discovered something I never knew about Shel Silverstein. As it turns out, Silverstein was a composer who in his younger days wrote the hit Johnny Cash song "A Boy Named Sue".

Silverstein was a friend of Cash, and wrote the song for him in 1969. Interestingly enough, the first time Cash ever played "A Boy Named Sue" was during a live performance at San Quentin Prison. Cash had received the song the night before the performance and only agreed to play the song at the request of his wife. The song, having become a cross-over hit, soared to #2 on the US pop charts and #1 on the country charts simultaneously.

For those of you unfamiliar with the song, it is about a boy whose father left early in his childhood, but not before he named him Sue. The son, having endured a tough upbringing because of his name, vowed revenge against his father. One day, the two meet in a bar and a fight ensues. Near the end of the fight, his father reveals the reasoning behind his decision to name him Sue and the Son comes to terms with his father. Yet Sue still detests his name.

Silverstein later wrote a sequel to a boy named sue entitled "Father of A Boy Named Sue". He felt that the original song was a little one sided, as it was mainly told from the son's point of view, and thought that the Father needed equal time.

He also released an album called "The best of Shel Silverstein: His Words His Songs His friends". iTunes lists the album in the children's music genre which causes me to immediately question that decision. Mainly because the song "A Boy Named Sue" is a part of the play list and contains the lyric "Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue". Which of course causes this blog great amusement to think of a parent who purchased this album for their child because it was listed as "children's music". I'm sure "A Boy Named Sue" has been cranked unknowingly through quite a few minivan speakers.

Posted by joeschmidt at 12:42 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

How to remove dried, melted crayon from a clothes dryer

Posted on August 05, 2005 at 01:06 AM

Leaving things in the pockets of your clothes when washing them is a pretty common thing. Wallets, lipstick, change, pens, etc.. We've all done it at some point in time. And the error is usually caught before the clothes get put in the dryer. Ha. Not this time.

A few months ago I was doing some late night laundering. I rounded up some of the legal department's clothes, grabbed some other stuff and took it downstairs to be washed. In the past, I was known as a notorious non-pocket-checking-clothes-washer here at JoeSchmidt.com. I have been scolded many o'times for leaving certain items in my pockets and having them go through the wash. Once, my cell phone went through an entire wash cycle. But even though I wasn't the one who put the clothes in the wash, I was still blamed for the simple act of leaving it in my pocket. Amazingly enough, it dried out a few days later and was still operational. So I, the now reformed non-pocket-checking-clothes washer, go through every pocket making damn sure not even a spec of lint makes into the wash.

Satisfied with my thorough inspection, I throw the clothes into the wash. I wait until they are done with the wash cycle, threw them into the dryer, and headed off to bed.

But when pulling the clothes out of the dryer the very next day, we were confronted with a grizzly find. Opening the dryer door revealed hundreds of dollars of clothing marred with strange blue smudges.

WTF...?

So we immediately begin to tear the clothes out of the dryer in search of the culprit. Sweat beads began to form on my brow as thought what I could have possibly missed. I am soooo dead.

"Was it a pen?" She asks.

"How the hell do I know, I checked every pocket before I washed these clothes." There was no way this was getting pinned on me.

"Do you think it was something in the washer that is leaking out?"

"No, the washer looks good. If there was something in there you think we'd see some evidence of it."

All of a sudden she finds the source of the mysterious blue smudges. Turns out, the legal department had left a blue crayon in a small, overlooked pocket on the side of his shorts near the very bottom. The pocket was velcroed shut, which was a good thing, because the amount of blue melted crayon oooozing from underneath the flap of the pocket would have been enough to make a serious mess. We were lucky.

So after taking inventory of all the clothes, I take a look into the dryer to survey what damage it had sustained. I was presented with this sight.

A dryer tinged with blue, hardened crayon, intermingled with blue smudges along the circumference of both the front and back of the dryer drum. I could only imagine what would've happened had we thrown the next load of clothes in there to be dried. The crayon would have heated up and wreaked havoc on even more clothing. We needed to get this stuff off ASAP, but how?

First, I tried to scrub it off. My weapon of choice was a Mr. Clean magic eraser pads which usually does a great job on just about anything. I figured it would do the trick.

Boy was I mistaken.

After 10 minutes of scrubbing I noticed no discernable difference. This stuff was not coming off. So being the nerd that I am, I turn to my friend the internet, more specifically Google, and begin the search. It appears that this has happened to quite a few people, and my search found quite a few helpful tips.

One specific search lead me to the Crayola "helpful information" website (i.e. how to get our product off and/or out of your stuff) which yielded a lot of information on how to remove stains left by their products in many different situations. Good place to start? No, not really. I found it quite disturbing that they listed WD-40 as a possible solution to our problem. Yeah, I'm going to spray a flammable liquid into my dryer in the hope I get it cleaned up enough so as to not to start a fire when the next load of clothes are dried. Great idea, crayola.

Dissatisfied with what I had found so far, I happened upon one idea that seemed a little far fetched, but in the end proved to be the winner. It involved toothpaste. Lots of toothpaste.

Here's what I did to remove the dried crayon from our clothes dryer.

• 1. Heat your empty clothes dryer by running it on the hottest setting for about 5-10 minutes.


• 2. Stop the dryer and slather toothpaste (brand doesn't matter) over the crayon afflicted areas. Make sure every area that has crayon is well covered. The more the better.


• 3. Close the dryer and start it. Again, let it run on it's highest setting.


• 4. Grab one 12 oz. can of beer (brand not important) and begin to imbibe. When beer is empty, stop the dryer (approx, 7-12 min though your experience may vary).


• 5. Start removing the crayon from the walls of the dryer by breaking out a chisel, a jar of elbow grease (brand not important), and a wet wash cloth. After vigorously scrubbing for a good 15min, you should notice that the waxy crayon residue will begin to dissipate.


• 6. Repeat steps 2 though 5 until crayon residue is gone.

How much toothpaste did I use? See for yourself:

Believe it or not this was a brand new tube when I started. Near the end of this ordeal I was squeezing out every drop I could muster from the empty tube out of fear I would have venture out to my arch enemy Wal-Mart (one of the few places open after midnight) in order to replenish my supply. Luckily I avoided that fate and finished with just enough to complete the job.

In my estimation the Extra Whitening Crest did a fantastic job at removing the toothepaste. Though I highly doubt the whitening part of the toothpaste had much impact on the overall performance. I would like to think it did, but probably not.

Here is the result of about 2 hours of back breaking, knuckle busting work:

(note: the small black marks you see in the picture are "chips" caused by the legal dept's endeavors as a part time geologist. On previous occasions he would leave the "treasures" (read: rocks) found during his excavations in the pockets of his shorts. Left unchecked, the rocks would fly freely inside the confines of the dryer, causing minor damage to the surface of the dryer walls.)

So, there you have it. Clean as a whistle. No more blue waxy crayon residue. The whole process only cost us a tube of toothpaste and a few years off my life from inhaling super-heated toothpaste fumes for two hours. And come to think we were worried we'd have to buy a new dryer. Puh-shaw.

One final note, I would like to thank Gap kids for designing cool cargo shorts featuring a plethora of a small pockets in areas where pockets wouldn't normally be. I'm sure you're extensive research probably told you that 6 yr old kids love pockets and they need lots of them to put all of their stuff in. So kudos to you Gap kids, and thanks again. Because without out your ingenious design skills, this post wouldn't have been possible.

Posted by joeschmidt at 01:06 AM | Comments (34) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

The church sign generator

Posted on August 03, 2005 at 12:29 AM

I will have to admit, this blog is a sucker for a website that contains a content generator of any kind. And really, if you think about it, they can be real time savers. Generators can help you create your own evil plan, write your Academy Award acceptance speech, formulate a reply to one of those Nigerian "business proposal" emails, or help you name a suburban development (I beta tested this one).

But the church sign generator is the one generator I truly enjoy. It's a site that lets you select one of two church signs and emblazon it with whatever message comes to mind. You can even purchase your generated sign as a refrigerator magnet (for a nominal fee of course).

Here are a few of my own creations:

A sign you might see if this blog suddenly becomes religious.

A sign in front of a church desperate to attract female members.

A sign in front of a church that has a minister with a sense of humor.

And finally, a sign you might see in front of the United Church of Dirty Limericks.

Now if I could only find a generator that automatically creates blog posts for me so I would no longer have to toil over this stupid 30 posts in 30 days thing (It must have been really late when I thought up that grand scheme).

Posted by joeschmidt at 12:29 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack | post to del.icio.us

A complaint letter to this blog

Posted on August 01, 2005 at 12:33 AM

(Editor note: The following complaint letter was composed using Scott Pakin's automatic complaint letter generator.)

Recent troubling developments prompt me to revisit a subject I've discussed in the past: JoeSchmidt.com and its plan to destroy any resistance by channeling it into ineffective paths. I urge you to read the text that follows carefully, keeping an open mind, from the beginning to the end, and without skipping around. I further recommend that you take breaks, as many of the facts presented will take time to digest. JoeSchmidt.com is addicted to the feeling of power, to the idea of controlling people. Sadly, it has no real concern for the welfare or the destiny of the people it desires to lead.

One may very well question whether JoeSchmidt.com is living testimony to the churlish attitudes that encourage and exacerbate passivity in some people who might otherwise be active and responsible citizens. Still, most people will eventually be convinced that JoeSchmidt.com's favorite tactic is known as "deceiving with the truth". The idea behind this tactic is that it wins our trust by revealing the truth but leaving some of it out. This makes us less likely to break the mold and stray from the path of conventional wisdom. My goal for this letter was to weaken the critical links in JoeSchmidt.com's nexus of unambitious parasitism. Know that I have done my best while trying always to identify, challenge, defy, disrupt, and, finally, destroy the institutions that hammer away at the characters of all those who will not help JoeSchmidt.com leach integrity and honor from our souls. Let an honest history judge.

The above is a small example of the capabilities of Scott Pakin's automatic complaint letter generator. To create your own rant, simply enter the name of a particular person or a company, select how many paragraphs of complaining you want to create, then hit submit to generate your rant. So if you want to blow off some steam and quickly generate a complaint letter about a company that just ripped you off or a friend that just screwed you over, then this is a good place to start. Because you know that any complaint letter with a line like "nexus of unambitious parasitism" will definitely be taken seriously.

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