Jewels and Binoculars

Mike Golby’s stolen car was recovered. Now he has two cars, an embarrassment of riches.

In other good news, I see that Julie Leung is back blogging. One assumes that the Apple funicular railway and computer corporation fixed or replaced her lemonware after only six months or so.

Maryam Scoble interviews the women. Robert interviews the men.

Sarah Blow doesn’t. But sometimes I think Scoble does.

What do Liz Lofty and Ann Altoids have in common?

UFO Breakfast recipients is back and blogging in the fast lane. But Brian Moffatt will be offline for a few months. Wait! Why is it that we never see Superman and Clark Kent together in the same phone booth?

Condolences to Cyndy Roy at mousemusings on the loss of her father.

Winston Rand is now sweating out the statute of limitations on, well… domestic terrorism.

Have I pointed at Dervala’s “Thanksgiving at the Ranch” yet?

Doug Alder is going for the gold. Must be snowed in.

Inspector Lohmann notes:

So long as we only visit each other in cyberspace we remain isolated, solitary islands of insurrectionary desire. How can these islands help and protect each other in concrete, meaningful, practical ways? How can those who seek practical changes in their everyday life — not to mention social change — move to the next level? It’s one thing to create a secret (if paradoxically public) virtual network; but how can this translate into practical results?

Jewels and Funiculars…

Wally World

I’ve been thinking about Wally down at the plant. In anonymity he has found the solution to a problem that has been troubling me. All kinds of work issues have surfaced over the last five years, issues that I generally avoided blogging. Who wants to get dooced?

I’ve had a rough go around the whole issue of anonymity because I think we should all be brave and honest and strong. A pseudonym is self-protective at best. Since I feel a need to know the “real” identity of those with whom I converse, I have been open about who I am. But lately I’ve felt less open and honest because I am afraid of what open expression of certain opinions might do to my reputation, my livelihood.

When I think of all the topics I might explore, the whistles I might blow and the mean-spirited criticisms I might throw, I almost think it’s time to disappear into the fog bank of anonymous blogging. Certainly my art wouldn’t suffer. I might even discover where I belong.