I hope the ride in the time machine did not nauseate anyone. See, if technology were to be trusted, you would have been reading this post on Saturday evening, as it was once entitled Saturday Evening Post. Many of you have grown accustomed to marking your calendars of virtual time by it; however, this week it failed to post. Now, it is neither Saturday nor evening.
Rather than merely serve leftovers, which really are not left over because no one has had firsts, there will be some additions to and corrections of your belated, regularly scheduled program and a deviation from what Clyde had originally discussed. In true Monty Python fashion, we will have Clyde reappear on Thursday, whilst serving Saturday on Tuesday and thereby switching this coming Monday for Wednesday and the week will be full, even if nothing is right with the world after. Follow? Great.
It is the first Saturday Evening Post since the blogoversary. There are still a few in sugar comas, but overall, we had an excellent time. If you missed it, there are reports a few lampshades are still available.
It was really fun to see which statistics caught your eye. Twice as nice was seeing some of the lurkers stop by for a slice of pie and a comment…or three.
Still looking for some feedback on what else you would like to see M3 cover this year, and not. (See that poll?) I have some new series lined up, and lots of single posts. All of that leads me to an explanation.
Some of the newcomers to M3 are intimidated by the term series. Truly, there is very little of M3 which is singular. Very few posts do not refer to another post on M3 for further reading. Now, there is a two-fold reason for this. (Oh, do not dare look surprised. You know there is a reason for everything…especially here.)
One of the things which irks me to the point of eye twitching is reading something which makes me feel like I am the butt of the joke. There is something missing which is assumed I already know. Since I despise condescension, I have been very (read: über) careful to make the posts stand alone without boring those who have been here since ever. The offer is there if you would like some extra background.
The second reason is as we go along, there are some places the road splits. While in the midst of a series, I may choose one path, there is absolutely no reason we cannot travel the more rutted and well-used road. (PS If you are new, we never go that way first.)
When this happens, I have this OCD habit of going back to posts and being sure there is a link either in the post or as a pingback in the comments. You should be able to navigate around here. The end. Amen.
Some series around here are like A to Z. We tackle some huge discipline and break it into bite-sized morsels. I never did Friday Follies the emails I got after that series. Well, at least not the nice ones. It was a series where we all had quite a bit of fun. If you missed A to Z, I hope you will still be around when we do it again this year. No, I am not issuing a spoiler as to the topic for next year.
With the official retiring of MAD as a serial, we have opened up the schedule for some more fun I personally want to have with M3 by offering some blog hop stops. One of which will debut
this week tomorrow. It is definitely a new bill of fare.
Right Turn, Clyde!
We have been making weekly productions of stupidity for quite some time. Clyde seems to think there is a large portion of this undesirable chain of events we have missed.
In the Friday Follies, we have gotten more than our fair share of those who have completely missed the time machine into this century, but there are some which are almost too far gone for a pithy response. These are the diehards.
They are convinced I could not find my way out of a paper bag with a map, a flashlight and a guide dog. What is worse? They believe it whilst attempting to wear my hat.
Wearing my hat is often difficult. First reason is… chances are good it is too small. Second, the hats I buy are hard for others to pull off without being dressed in something befitting a debutante ball or royal wedding or a rodeo. I love hats and have many. Those are not the hat I mean in this instance.
These diehards email and comment profusely. (If you can imagine comments as long as the posts around M3…) The main thrust of their diatribes is how I get it wrong. Rarely, do they state their authority. Instead, they are content to spew and spout without offering one single fact in rebuttal.
I personally am not one who feels the need to establish my authority with each post. Inundating the M3 Readers with my curriculum vitae every stinking day is boring. To be frank, I have not written a resumé in (takes off other shoe) more than 15 years. As I recall, the last time anyone cared about where I learned to do anything was in the early ’90s.
Furthermore, I read. I actually read twice as much as I write in any given day. This is not just the word meter words either. I mean everything I write. More than four hours each day is spent learning something. Around 12 minutes everyday is devoted to remembering something exactly as it is or was or will be.
I am not perfect. Let me say that again. I am not perfect. I make mistakes. Occasionally, although very rarely, are sources incorrect in the information I convey. This is due in large part to my refusal to use single sources and overwhelming penchant for personal experience. Truly, very little I convey is not born of my eyesight, hearing, heart or hands.
Clyde officially gives the Bronx salute to all those who think only the seat of my pants knows how to type. What he wonders, though, is: what is the point in pointing at something you think is wrong if you have no offer of proof to the contrary?
Perhaps, they should take off my hat in favor of one more suited.
Until next time (which will hopefully be a Saturday),
Is there a point in just being cantankerous? Should every piece of information you read come with a reference so you do not have to do your own research? How much can you trust cited references when you disagree with what is written?
(c) Red Dwyer 2012
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