ah!

If I had steel and faith in my content, I'd disconnect my stat-counters and disable my comments and never know who or how many people ping me for anything other than images of eformeday eoplepay, and who the fuck am I kidding.

Bleggal-gazing prompted, natch, by a severe drop in the past three weeks of meaningful daily hits (the freaks searching for photos of eformeday eoplepay one dependable universal constant). Two bleg friends (one from a fairly big bleg) tell me their hits are down significantly too, and when I look at the comments of bigger blegs (not Overlord-size blegs, but significant blegs), the number of comments are down both in overall number and number of contributors.

Blegs are grandpa. I've theories I've written before, from general outrage fatigue to employers' Broadband Police blocking BLCKDGRD to my alienating one group of readers with what another group of readers wants and visa versa (UPDATE: Sasha says tweeter), but I'll rely on Occam and assume the reason for my drops is my suckage.

Before bleggal-gazing becomes bleg-proctology I'll stop worrying about pings and start worrying about why I worry about pings. That? will be some truly compelling blegging.

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Elric's final post from Okinawa (he's now in Sapporo, though the server he uses looking here says Ulaanbaator Mongolia. Or I've one new fan.)

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• Teabaggers Denied Their Hilarious Metaphor at Lafayette Park!
• Let me take this opportunity to cackle at pussypigs and pigpussies sooeying about Obama's Fourth Reich's SS and civil liberties. Another cackler. ACLU, bitches.
• America's Peasant Mentality. More.
• Country of teenagers hopped on Jackass.
• Put hand in armpit and wank.
• Obamapostasy.
• Obamapostasy.
• No, fuck you.
• True. (h/t)
• Read this, which includes this paragraph:

As (post)modern life becomes ever drearier, ever more pre-fabricated, ever more filled with anomic loneliness, with the superficiality of consumer existence, with the marketing away of our pain and humanity, converting our sores and traumas into “issues” and the like, then the intensity of inner experience is sought as a succor and ballast: e.g.  extreme sports, sex, “reality” TV, and religious experience.  Pentecostalism rides on the global network of the world to bring that inner intensity while simultaneously largely abandoning the outer world to the forces of secularizing globalism.

• I, for one, celebrate my anti-Christerism, which doesn't make me anti-Christian.
• Reflections in Blood.
• Bombing Civilians: An American Tradition.
• Hot cougar sex and Blago.
• Limbaugh tea-party.
• Irreducible Experiences (and congrats on your and yours Third).
• Hey, James! a song titled Oklahoma! More here.
• Crocodiles is today's listening assignment.
• I can't urge you to LISTEN TO THIS enough. LOUD! I haven't had this severe an earmite in months. Sweet fuckityfuck.

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A SUPER-CLEAN COUNTRY

Linh Dinh

You (almost) never see it in public so
You have to conjure it up all day long,
Drag it into every conversation,
To flesh out the corporate picture.

It's an inevitable verbal tic - wouldn't you say? -
For a super-clean country.

Holy shit, that shit's wack.
She thinks she's hot shit but she ain't dogshit.
There's nothing but shit on the internet.
Why are you so hung up on shit like that?
I got some good shit at home, some far-out shit.
You're so full of shit, you dumbshit motherfucker.

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Sweetness, I love this song: