As you can see below, my blog generates many unselfish comments, witness the two appended to yesterday's note:
"Magdalena Movie In Works Scott Mitchell Rosenberg, chairman of Platinum Studios, and Gale Anne Hurd, founder of Valhalla Motion Pictures, announced that they are developing Magdalena , a spiritually themed film based on a Top Cow ...
"Great Blog! I also have a site about Nestle toll house chocolate chips. You can check it out at Nestle toll house chocolate chips. Also, as a thank you for visiting my site, I'd like to tell you about a great site that is giving away a FREE DVD Camcorder! Just click the following link and enter your Zipcode to see if the promotion is available in your area! FREE DVD Camcorder"
So, the commercial engines are already out there, hawking cookies and movies and camcorders on other folks' blogs, and human contact decreases--or should I say machine-human interaction increases?
Yes, I do have the option to limit comment on this blog by selecting a filter, but I won't. Comments by self-promoting software are better than silence.
And to think these programs care more to comment than my own friends and family!
Hey, I'm not proud, I'll take what I can get.
I mean, I didn't complain when I ordered a garlic bagel today and they brought me something else. I did cuss at a woman who cut in line at the U.S. Consulate, however, only to discover she didn't speak English. I assumed she did because she looked like a norteamericano. Afterwards she explained in Spanish and I apologized. But I think some English speakers in the neighborhood gained a new respect for me.
I am so bored. So, so bored. How bored? Look at what I've written. We are here in San Miguel against our will; our lawyer's number was busy today, as were our friends'; I did, however, receive a package from daughter #2 today which I have yet to open, my first birthday gift, I presume. Keturah is such a trooper, real Erickson blood. But if I open the package, what can I look forward to? Another Astros loss tonight?
Maybe I'll end this note with a stream-of-consciousness attempt:
Woe unto the disenfranchised sons of lost time dwelling in the dust of Guanajuato where the silverfish thrive and the eagles are brown, where the parasites are many and the clean water scarce, where sugar skulls are sold to honor the dead and promote Mexican dentists, of which there are too many, but this is hardly streamofconsciousness as I planned-- magnolia butter on a half shell shrimp barbacoated in delicious bacterial membrane lifted from the remains, remains of the day, day of the remains, Day of the Dead, we're all dead and dying, frying, trying to get inside our own heads, blank chambers without bullets, hot lead injection in the medulla oblongata, whatyougotta, Jake LaMotta, middleweights, featherweights, feathers of Quetzacoatl hanging from my unclipped nose, colorful nosehairs, the candy-colored clown they call the sandman.