Gone Fishin': the All-Sidekick Issue
WARNING: CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE. MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR YOUNGER READERS.
cursor (ker'-ser) (n.) Another term for a computer user.
Welcome to what may quite possibly be the lamest, dullest, most uninteresting piece of dreck I think I've ever written. I'm doing this whole issue on my Sidekick while I'm at work, because obvi there isn't any actual work to do. I've never bothered to post via Sidekick before, so I don't even know if I can spruce this shit up a little bit with pictures and big colorful typefaces. Probably not (update: definitely not). For the moment I'm not even going to bother trying, since experience suggests I will lose all my hard work if I do.
Is it possible, or even advisable, to write an entire newspaper from a mobile device? I mean, why the fuck not, but I've always enjoyed creating large headlines, changing the fonts, and adding all those little artistic touches that require either a traditional word processor or at least an encyclopedic knowledge of HTML. So for now I think I'm just going to let the ideas flow and see what happens. Perhaps I will have the opportunity to make some changes when I get back to my labtop, except I will more likely spend my time watching Turkish television on VLC Media Player than actually doing anything constructive.
That's something that bothers me, actually. No, not Turkish television, and not the VLC Player now that (I think) I've figured out how to keep it from crashing (use a skinned interface). No, what I mean is this seeming inability to rouse myself to do anything productive. Whether it's writing some copy for Dateline or organizing my sock drawer alphanumerically, it seems I'd rather prefer to while away the hours soaking up meaningless, inane content instead. I mean, I can't even waste time properly: my friend lent me Season 3 of Weeds yesterday, so what did I do? I watched fucking Family Guy, which I don't even like! I mean, there's nothing wrong with the show itself, in fact it's usually quite funny. It's just that a person to whom I'm no longer speaking used to be all over that show, so it reminds me of him, and of the ex-girlfriend who came between us (Kevin Bacon, as a matter of fact - who I actually bumped into a couple of times at her job and found to my surprise that I had no unpleasant gut reactions but rather a vague feeling of triumphant liberation). I suppose I should be glad I recognize the insanity of procrastination, and be grateful that I sometimes have an opportunity to go back and correct some of what I've done wrong, missed, or fallen short on. The problem is that everything feels like too much work to bother with, even things I know I want, and I absolutely fucking hate that. I suppose nobody can do anything about this but me, so rather than bore you by whining about it, I'll just have to try harder and do better. It can absolutely be done, and I know the rewards are far greater than my hopes can conceive.
Update: I think I've figured out part of the reason I like never get around to writing stuff down. It's partly to do with the fact that I have so much to say, and have so much emotion behind it, that once I open the floodgates I feel like I'll never fully finish.
I'm pretty good live and in person. I find that among certain people I have an amazing tendency to bust out with these long, convoluted oral essays on any topic imaginable, and that I can spin anecdotes out the asshole when properly questioned. The trick is really to exercise the self discipline necessary to transfer it all to the printed page, and not to stop till I've finished. Rather than wrestle with a keyboard, however, I seem to content myself with banging out a half-assed half-a-paragraph and then pressing the "next" button on VLC until I find that all-"Seinfeld" stream again. What really grinds my gears is that as time goes by, I find it harder to remember the important events that I'd really like to share with people, even as vividly as I could picture penning them at the time of occurrence. But sometimes even a genius prefers to work in the auto shop. Sometimes that's what the situation needs. Sometimes Johnny Learning Disability needs to be working elbow to elbow with a deep thinkin' smartypants. Sometimes that's just what's right, especially if it keeps people entertained or helps them break out of a shell. After all, next to enjoying oneself, helping each other is what life is all about.
I often thought I could make a great living as a famous entertainer, and I'm sure I still could (shameless plug: order a copy of the Deed To Hell DVD! I play the part of a ladykillin' rock star. Contact me at this publication or via the links in the righthand column) but sometimes it's enough just bringing a smile to the faces of my nearest and dearest. Entertaining your friends for free also doesn't invite half the trouble of being a pop-culture flavor-of-the-month anyway, and you don't have to deal with comedy-club hecklers. Maybe it's too cutthroat out there in showbiz, but then again where I work is pretty cutthroat as well. You never know until you try, and I hope I have the presence of mind to listen to my own advice.
Anything is possible. Me turning this drivel into the DL4 Back To School issue is possible. I'm not saying that's going to happen, but it could.
You know what else is possible? The guy who writes a newspaper called Dateline FOUR TWENTY retiring from the party life. Actually, I shouldn't say the party life. I still party it up just as hard as I ever did, but I made a decision this summer to stop smoking trees, drinkin', and using whatever other chemical intoxicants I might have been into. Of course, I still smoke cigarettes, which is probably not the smartest thing in the world, but whatever. I'm also specifically NOT "anti-drug." It's every person's right to choose whatever they think is proper for their circumstances. Moreover, I still support marijuana decrim, because quite honestly the drug laws in this country are fuckin' retarded. The thing is that for me, I arrived at a point in my life where it makes more sense for me not to use drugs than to use them. I have to say, this is probably one of the best things I've ever done, and possibly the first "adult" decision I've ever made (though I'm still up in the air on that one). Every good thing that has happened to me this summer, every single one, happened after I took action on this decision.
This newspaper will not be changing its name, format or content. You may notice some differences in the jackass writing it, but to be perfectly blunt (pun intended) I've worked too friggin' hard to develop and promote the Dateline 4:20 Online brand franchise to consider turning my back on it now.
The bottom line is that I no longer drink or do drugs, and as you already know from Rule Number Four (www.myspace.com/dateline420 ---> "About Me" ---> "The Rules") I choose not to have sex anymore either, at least for the time being. But that's old news.
Don't get it twisted, I'll still eat the pussy like there was a prize inside. It's traditional man-lady relations I choose to forego, and believe you me, it's a hard choice to make and an even harder one to keep. But keep it I do, hot college girls be damned. It amounts to an overall reduction in the aggregate stress and drama levels that would otherwise permeate and punctuate my life, and now I'm clear-headed to boot. Well, reasonably clear-headed. I'm still me, after all.
As far as cigarette smoking, I had the opportunity to do the Pepsi Challenge at the beach this summer, pitting Camel Menthols head-to-head against Newports. In my opinion the Newports are the clear winner. Simply stated, they are the better cigarette for when you're on the beach. I don't know why this is true, but I swear it is. Point for point, however, you're better off not smoking at all. I'd like to see non-addictive cigarettes, so that we can still enjoy them when it's appropriate, such as after a meal or during times of stress, but without feeling the unwanted compulsion to light up right before, say, taking a swim. They affect your ability to enjoy the smells of the sea-side, for instance, and they thin out your blood temporarily, which causes you to feel colder than usual once you're in the water. But it is what it is.
IMPORTANT NOTE: I guess I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, because this only just occurred to me, but this issue may in fact be the first issue in the entire 12-year history of Dateline 4:20 to be written completely stone-cold sober.
My dispatcher has informed me there's finally some work to do, so I've got to go. Please stay tuned.
(This issue will be receiving periodic updates to content and formatting, from changing a question mark to a comma, to adding extra words such as this very message. The finished product, should there ever be one, will perhaps be recognizable only when an entirely new issue is posted following this one, but the truly astute will pick up the differences and the real fans won't mind either way.)
TO BE CONTINUED
