That's it. Not so hard, really.

Patrick and Teresa, Annals of Truly Bad Ideas is too important a title to use only on this topic. I would suggest that it would make a fine running feature, much like Open Threads. I am sure there are enough Truly Bad Ideas to keep it going.

To me, buses and trains are a sort of "quiet space", like libraries. A certain aural privacy should be respected.

I AM SORRY TO INTERRUPT YOUR DAY

MY NAME IS JOSH, AND I HAVE BEEN AN UNPAID POET FOR NINE MONTHS

I DO NOT TAKE DRUGS, OR SELF PUBLISH

I HAVE THREE SMALL ANTHOLOGIES TO SUPPORT

ANY DONATIONS NO MATTER HOW SMALL WILL BE GREATLY APPRECIATED AND MAY EE CUMMINGS BLESS YOU ALL

I recommend that all Minneapolitans do a little contingency planning. Find some embarrassingly bad poetry,* print it out, and keep it on your person at all times. When the Serious Poets start reciting on your bus, whip the piece of paper out, unfold it and start reading it aloud, stressing syllables at random.

* anything from this website should do nicely.

I don't like poetry readings, either.

No uninvited poetry on the public bus system! Aux armes, citoyen! To the barricades!

And if you do that, please put the video on YourTube.

There's a group in the Cities -- the Rich Suburban Turds for What They Pretend is Tax Reform -- who would throw lots of money at that organization, at least as much as they pay our beloved For Sale Cheap governor to cut library funding and sign imbecilic videogame bills.

The capo of this gang announced, two days into the transit strike a couple of years ago, that since the city hadn't stopped cold (because people had taken days off and arranged carpools in anticipation) public transit was utterly unnecessary. This achieved the impossible: labor and management joined forces to call him an butthole. (Is that nicer than, you know, the other word? Because I'm sure not trying to be nice.)

And poetry on transit (and in other public places) is quite widespread; we've had it here, and I've seen it in other cities, including the London Underground (where I believe it was sponsored by London Transport, though I may misremember -- LT has a long history of giving people cool things to look at, including their posters).

The idea of keeping some Julia Moore on hand as a defence against live poetry has an appealing feel to it...

In a theater.

Far from the bus.

I'm personally a big fan of spoken-word poetry, but bus-time is hush-time. I don't want to hear the annoying tourists whining about how they should be allowed to eat on the train; why would I want to listen to an amateur slam poet whining about how much he suffers for his art?

Also, I can't imagine any jury finding any fault with an angry mob forcibily de-busing a rush-hour poet.

... the boring, preachy, rhyming epitaphs they had posted all over the Catacombs, though, not so much. Ugh, shut up! The bones speak very well all by themselves.

Says it all really.

Le petit rhume
C'est dure et fort;
La toux, le goutte,
Alors, le mort.
Birmanie-Raser

If you don't like it, there's always showtunes.

In Hong Kong, commuters are trapped by the bus companies and the KCR (Kowloon Canton Railway) who have screens playing info-adver-tainment.

The television screens run set programs in several places on the buses without any possibility of control by the commuters. After some complaints, the downstairs sections are now silent (but the screens still go).

I used to love sitting on the upper deck of a bus and looking out. I still do, but now I have to try and position myself carefully to filter out most of the TV screen.

On the KCR, the screens go in all the cars of the train (including first class) except one, the designated "Quiet Car".

Even some of the minibuses run them.

There is a group trying to stop this practioe, called Hush The Bus but so far they have not met with much success.

Some riders gazed intently at her and applauded when she finished...

I'll bet.

Lee, your suggestion is brilliant. Bravo.

Of course it IS Minneapolis. Why not board the bus with replicas of Crow and Tom Servo and provide your own commentary?

AuugGGhhGHh.

I can live without the guys who sing, out of tune, in the subway stations and (sometimes) on the trains. (I also can live without the information-TV screens they're starting to install. The station acoustics are bad enough already.)

Speaking of unwanted entertainment in Minneapolis: we drove down there with our children for the Easter long weekend. When we stopped to fill the tank on the way out of town, a television screen on the gas pump -- precisely eye level with my five year old son in the backseat -- blipped on with gory details of the most recent bombing in Iraq.

Thanks a LOT, Citgo. Like we're not subjected to enough random TV.

I also hate the screens that seem everywhere. I like TV, but I want to be able to choose when and what I watch. I have cultivated the ability to read while on the eliptical at the gym, just so that I don't have to watch ESPN, CNN, or the Soap Opera Channel while exercising; the fact that I'm at the gym is difficult enough.

The most annoying TV placement I've yet seen was in an elevator in a Manhattan office building. Thankfully, I was only going to 6, otherwise I'd have been tempted to commit vandalism. (One of my NYC colleagues told me that someone routinely slaps a post-it reading "TV Kills" over the offending display.)

I have no objection to, in fact I approve of, poetry on signs (typically where they would put ads if they managed to sell them). I can choose to read them or ignore them.

But if you insist on inflicting poetry on me, you take your chances.

Le petit rhume
C'est dure et fort;
La toux, le goutte,
Alors, le mort.

But shouldn't it be?

Le petit rhume
C'est dur et fort;
La toux, la goutte,
Alors, la mort.

Otheerwise it doesn't make much sense. On the other hand, we are talking about poetry

Long ago we used to have a collective of street poets who would hand out mimeographed poetry on street corners. I still occasionally wake up screaming, having remembered the first stanza or the first Street Poem I ever read:

"There's insanity in my brain
Driving me insane.
All those voices in my head
They start talking when I go to bed."

That was in '84, right? One of those poems hit me so hard I copied it into a notebook. I think I still have it, somewhere.

(The demise of most of my mid-eighties notebooks is too sad and stupid a story to tell just now.)

Serge,

The day I knew I was in a poetry class taught by a great man was the day he gave us a piece of anonymous Elizabethan verse to explicate. After we'd struggled with it for a while, he suggested our difficulties might be due to the verse not being very good.

Could be, but the verse was in Perrine's Sound and Sense, sixth edition (but not in the half of my copy I can find just now). Something about a dead infant, maybe a fountain, possibly in the chapter on simile and metaphor. '03, '04, I forget.

Lizzy L,

This was the one about the man fixing his roof. Umm...got it! "Neighbor in May". I think.

Le petit rhume
C'est dur et fort;
La toux, la goutte,
Alors, la mort.

translates literally as

The little cold
It's hard and strong;
The cough, the gout (*),
Then Death.

(*) or, the drop that makes the cup spill over?

Whoops! I thought you were replying to something I said, not what you were actually replying to. My bad.

So, you start coughing up blood, and then you die.

So, TB? Pneumonic plague? Ebola? Or are even these too good for attack-poets preying on helpless commuters?

There are poets whose words stand through all the ages,
Such as Shakespeare, and the one who wrote the Psalms,
But, let's face it, you're not one of the great sages,
And you won't write very well with twisted arms.
For we like a verse whose lines with grace are written.
We's rather hear a verse with lines that scan.
You have with rhyme and reason not been smitten.
Can you tell yet we are not your greatest fans?

Hooray! We greet the slowing to the next stop.
Whoosh! The doors are open. What! You want to stay?
Pray, driver, summon hence the valiant bus-cop,
To drag this loathsome poet far away.
Constsble, now act to save enjoyment.
Let law, not tribal justice, guide our fun.
A constable engaged in his employment,
Now finds his duty is a happy one.

OTOH, the first verse alone gets the message across nicely -- and I wonder what the likelihood would be, if one person started it, of finding a few more G&S adherents aboard who would spontaneously become the chorus?

And this, from http://www.defectiveyeti.com/archives/000935.html:

Waiting for a bus in downtown Seattle, I see a disheveled and possibly deranged man with an enormous duffle bag sidling down the sidewalk, stopping to bellow "Are you going to the library?!" at each and every person in turn. Most ignore him until he moves on, but some -- out of compulsive politeness, or because they have somehow mistaken this raving for a sincere query -- begin to reply "No, I'm waiting for my --" at which point the man cuts them short with an impassioned and spittle-intensive "GO TO THE LIBRARY!!!"
I dunno. Call me cynical, but I just don't think Seattle's literacy program is all that effective.

Presumably that should read "[...] it's more crazy people [...]".

And, Chris Clarke:

anything from this website should do nicely.

Somebody actually admitted to writing that? Like, put their name on the copyright notice? I mean: "Your/cavities and mounds ignore all/similes"? "One day the latitudes of everything/will change, but not your breasts"? "I am not in touch with/summer or some season thing"??

I am in awe.

Of course, Vian. (As in Boris Vian?) How could I not think of that?

On the other hand, that reminds me of the ending of Moulin Rouge. No, not John Huston's great movie about Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. I'm talking of the so-called musical of a few years ago.

Hey, another bad idea for public transportation...

Poetry readings? Bah. Let's have people belt out arias from Puccini, or from Joe Green (as the SF Chron's Herb Caen was fond of calling Giuseppe Verdi).

On the other hand, I don't agree with the categorical dissing of mobile phone users. It's not mobile phones, it's people who thing they need to pitch their voices twice as loud as the ambient background in order to use them. Maybe it's just me, but it seems like this is a social problem that's been on the wane over the last few years, as people gradually get a clue.

I often call people at random and read my poetry to them. sometimes just to their voicemail. While on public transportation. With my voice very loud.

This is a labor saving device.

I sung it to the tune of "What keeps mankind alive".
What was it supposed to be sung as?

Having ridden the #9 Bus on Cleveland's RTA for the five years I worked for E&Y, I can say that I was so jealous of my private time on the bus that I would only mumble good mornings/afternoons to the very beautiful women who'd sit next to me and wanted to strike up conversation (I guess I didn't look as crazy then as I do now). What hope does spoken poetry have then?

Another good MTA policy is that they hold auditions for subway buskers. You only get to perform if you're good, and you can only perform in the stations and on platforms, not in the cars.

My father often travels for work, and says it has made airport lounges much easier to handle.

I wonder if a TV-B-Gone would work on hk-reader's Hong Kong telescreens.

No jury would convict you if you faked an orgasm right next to her.

I'm with Patrick, the generation of truly obnoxious mobile users seems to be gone; the people who loved interrupting everything to yell into a mobile so that everyone could see how important they were have faded into the background now that everyone and their dog has a phone.

Hello? Hello? Who's there? Damn you, speak!

Woof!

I know that I was chiming in with "cent enjoyment" and "culty smother" right away.

Ah, to be in the chorus of a G&S operetta!

Behavior and social norms change around technology. Cell phones don't just communicate with the person you're talking to; how you use them also communicates things to the people around you. "I'm busy and important" is the most common message, but it can also say "Please leave me alone," or "I am so interested in what you are saying that I am texting a friend about it, and thereby including you in my social network," or "I may be utterly lost, but I have people right here, on the other end of this line, and if I disappear in this sketchy neighborhood you're getting yours, buster."

I find people who communicate that they're busy and important by talking loudly into their cell phones really, really annoying... but I also find them annoying when they communicate the same message by talking really loudly to their compatriots, or by complaining really loudly to the flight attendant about a ten-minute flight delay (no, really, they do that). The cell phone is just a tool that makes the behavior easier to engage in. (Confession time: if I'm trapped at an airport, and it's been a long day, and there isn't anyone else in immediate voice radius and a Mr. Really Loud Cell Phone Talker Guy is getting on my nerves, I will engage in retaliatory Really Loud Cell Phone Talking. Thus far none of them has gotten the point.)

Poetry while we're commuting
s'an idea that's not worth instituting.
We in Minne-St Paul
already have call
ers whose musings could really stand muting.

Just add your own (loud) commentary: "I heard that neighborhood has the highest level of termite infestation in the tri-state area."

Or just rip her lungs out.

Aagh! I hate those! The last year I lived in Milwaukee, they put those thrice-damned LCD screens in every frigging bus on the 10 and 67 lines and cranked the volume to a headache-inducing maximum. Whatever soulless wank of a bureaucrat thought those things up has surely earned himself an eternity in the deepest pit of hell, where demons wait to force-feed him LCD panels displaying ads for mass transit.

As for bus-poetry, the poets will be richly repaid with a heaping pile of soul-crushing despair. Consider the following scene as a bus-poet shares his heart-loved work with the public:

Bus-poet: "I awoke one morning, gave myself a hug/ To discover I had become a giant bug."

(The sound of seventy passengers simultaneously putting on headphones, starting iPods, dialing cell phones, firing up GameBoys, and cursing loudly.)

I can't help but feel, though, that if this was an attempt to showcase people's work, it hasn't been very successful.

Could the people at the back of the bus even hear the poet, or were they supplied with microphones?

And yet, the Metro's Korean hymn-singing guy roams free.

The thinking in library circles is coming around from "ban all cell phones" to the realization that it's simply another version of the noise problem, and if they're speaking as quietly as the rest of the patrons, there's no need to hush them -- as long as they turn off the ringer. Still, there's something about hearing only one side of a conversation that is more distracting than two voices murmuring back and forth...

I have been seeing mini tv-screens appearing on the gas pumps lately that play ads for junk food you can buy inside; since you can no longer legally prop the nozzle handle and have to stand there holding it, you are a captive audience. And they're LOUD.

When I spent a summer living in France, there were people who would get on the Metro trains and sit there quietly until the doors closed, then they would stand up and begin to rant loudly and passionately to the rest of the passengers, passing around a little can for donations. As soon as the doors opened again, they'd get off the car and get on the next one. Since I speak almost no French, I had no idea at all what they were going on about and generally found it entertaining. We'd try to guess who the ranter was before they stood up. At the time I assumed it was politics, though if it was poetry it lacked any discernible rhythm.

I occasionally suffer from a related phenomenon -- the black, male preacher to a captive audience -- on buses and trains in Atlanta.

Then there was the MARTA bus driver who would address everyone on the bus, and comment on every single thing that caught her eye....

/* Waits for applause to die down, and then strides purposefully to the front. Takes a deep breath, and ... */

"When I was a lad I used to busk as
Poet stationed on a metro bus.
I said my verses when they closed the door,
And I -- "

Ow! Hey! Quit pelting me -- Ma'am, I believe this is your purse -- alright, who threw that? -- Ouch! now that smarted. Look we're almost --

/* sound of air brakes */

"I rhymed my verses so carefully
That now I am the chairman of the D.O.T!"

Watch your step. Have a nice day!

Michael Croft: No jury would convict you if you faked an orgasm right next to her.

I'd prefer to yell, "Hey, Real Estate lady! You want some more of this crack or not?"

I too resent the "captive audience" phenomenon. Ubiquitous, non-turn-downable ads are a prominent trope in Ursula LeGuin's fiction, and they never fail to elicit a shudder from me.

(into phone)

I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU PLAY AS LONG AS YOU PLAY IT LOUD!

She wasn't the one who was practically shouting into the phone, "How much was it? How much was it?" then got disconnected because, duh, she was in an elevator, and then called! back! to say, "Sorry, I got disconnected. How much was it?" was she? Maybe they don't have offices, so they just ride elevators all day.

As for the auditioning of buskers, yes, it applies to those who play in prominent spots in the busiest stations, but I can't believe the MTA actually approved that guy who's always playing drums on the platform at Union Square. Gaaah! I'd be happy to take a dozen dueling poets in exchange.

That's because regular, old-fashioned land-line phones feed your voice back to you through the earpiece, so you can hear yourself talking as you speak. It's a subliminal thing, but it really helps people to modulate their voices. Cell phones don't do that (it would waste bandwidth), and they should. The processors in phones are powerful enough now that it could be done completely inside the phone. This has the added advantage that the people who use cell phones the most - and who also tend to replace their phones the most - will get that feature first. And they're the ones that need silencing.

Also, I second the motion to do "Annals of Truly Bad Ideas" periodically. I might even borrow that myself, with appropriate attribution, for my humble blog.

Nor on the platforms, most places and most times. Near platforms, though, appears to be fair game.

The closest Calgary gets to the sort of public literary display Patrick mentions occurs during Freedom To Read Week, which is a yearly pro-lit event. Along with the child and adult literacy drives and the library events and the fair and everything else that happens, there is a day for 'guerilla readings' in public spaces. Volunteers read aloud from banned or challenged books to (often surprised) downtown office workers, usually with a before and/or after explaination regarding what they're doing and why.

I hear the Harry Potter books are a popular choice.

I wonder if TV B Gone works on those things?

Cell Phone "bubble of privacy": This is the most flabbergasting anecdote I know. Apparently, our hero gets in an elevator and finds it already occupied by a young woman who's occupied in earnestly giving a friend every intimate detail of her last night's date. Shortly after the doors close this twit turns to our hero and says, "Do you mind? This is a private conversation!"

(Our hero, in fact, would be Steve Rasnic Tem, who took writerly revenge upon the twit by sharing the anecdote with Melanie, who in turn shared it with her semi-monthly writing class in the form of an exercise prompt. In the five minutes allotted, we came up with all sorts of unfortunate fates for the twit.)

Captive audiences: Sometimes as the St. Charles street car makes its right turn onto Canal Street, you get "treated" to evangelistic ravings being shouted in at the always-open windows. One of these days I'm going to sit down and memorize "The Charge of the Goddess" to shout back on just such occasions.

It would also be kind of cool to be able to go to one car on the train to listen to, say, "The Frost You Didn't Get Every Year in High School." Or maybe get on the redeye and find out that the little headphones and DVD players you can rent have a channel with somebody giving a mellow reading of "Endymion." I might actually be able to sleep in those cramped seats with, say, Anne Murray murmuring "Endymion" in my ear.

This is in contrast to our gas station, which does not have TV screens yet (I'm sure they're imminent) but continually plays annoying advertisements at top volume.

Yet another lesson in the intrusiveness of sound.

The thing is, most people, at least based on their actions, aren't irritated by television sets. I was at my car dealership earlier this week (my car is having weird problems). There's a waiting room, with a large, loud TV. Everyone in there was just passively watching whatever was on TV - I'm sure no one considered changing the channel. While I personally can't imagine going to a place where I know I'll have to wait without my choice of entertainment - a book or, in this case, a laptop (the dealership has an open wireless network, bless its heart), there's little evidence to suggest that the majority of people actually mind. Otherwise, most of the waiting people would have vacated the Zombie Room (I'd say the ratio was about 15 people in the TV room, and three of us outside).

At which point, our hero says, "No, it's an elevator."

I assume Twit said ... I don't know how that sentence ends. What could Twit have said?

"There are two types of people at Open Mike Poetry Night: Those who brought poems. . .and those who didn't know it was Open Mike Poetry Night."
(Maybe a Life In Hell cartoon?)

This week's winner was: "Fine! Then I'll just sell my twenty-seven inch TV! I'll just SELL my twenty-seven inch TV!"

The SFO CNN monitors can be a bit loud, and annoyingly, there are lots of spots where the sound is blaring, but the TV is pointed the other way.

But for compulsory TV, it's got nothing on the Northwest terminal in Detroit.

I made a nice nest of newspapers behind some benches, draped my towel* over some boots as a pillow, and settled down.

As things got quiet 'round 1 am, the formerly unobtrusive audio for the CNN news playing on the monitors overhead became unignorable. Man, that was an awful night; I got more sleep on the puddle jumper I completed my trip on the next day.

* Always carry a towel.

Jen and Northland: Yeah, me too. Preferably printed in raised letters on 1/4-inch steel plate. Hand grips near one end would be nice, but not really necessary.

I was sitting next to a friend, who makes his living as a tenor; we looked at each other and he said, "He's really good." I asked, "Are they usually this good?" to which the reply was a stark "No." I felt kind of bad that I could only come up with a quarter when the singer passed the hat.

When I first realized the guy was about to sing, my reaction was dread. For once, I lucked out.

I ate lunch today much earlier than I usually do at work (my contract client.) I was sitting in the lunchroom by myself, enjoying the beautiful view and my thoughts, when another employee came in. He looked at the turned-off TV and asked, in a horrified tone, "Is the TV broken?"

On the other hand, they did (temporarily, it turns out) fix my broken car door mechanism for free a couple of weeks ago.

I love the SHHH! cards, but I think they need one that goes on to say, "...and we're all laughing our asses off behind your back." And yes, those would also work very well for people who make noise in movies or during concerts or...

Dear gods, no, that's not so; the sidetone is electrically provided. I think battery life is the reason cell phones don't do it.

I assume Twit said ... I don't know how that sentence ends. What could Twit have said?

My 5-minute scribble went something along those lines, and Twit rolled her eyes, and then the elevator got stuck.

The guy sitting next to me, his Our Hero character turned out to be seriously creepy so that we actually were scared for Twit by the end. Things were presumably going downhill for her after he prevented her leaving the elevator two floors later.

The writing class devolved shortly afterwards into a discussion of privacy bubbles, cell phone etiquette, and how we sometimes get speechless in the face of breathtaking rudeness. (Second anecdote: upon being told that he ought not to pet the guide dog, what with the sign there saying "don't pet me," the guy petting the guide dog says, "Yeah, so?" True. Made her jaw drop. I am sure that she, being an excellent writer, thought of a million great comebacks within five minutes of leaving the 7-11.)

...and back to the ubiquitous TVs: I always turn the dang thing off at the car dealership where I have to take my car every 3,000 miles. It is a wonderful feeling to say to a roomful of people, "Is anyone actually watching that?" and watch them all shake their heads and murmur, "No... no, not me... how about you?" to each other.

Of course you hear your own voice through the electrical circuit.

I would pay heavily if we could film this with Crow T. Robot doing The Tay Bridge Disaster and Tom Servo doing A Little Belgian Orphan.

Lizzy L: My pet hate (talkin' 'bout TVs in places I don't want a TV) is the television in the hospital waiting room.

There's nothing quite like visiting your mother in intensive care when the crash cart operators show up to work on her while the "ripping the heart out" scenes from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is on the room's TV. Trust me on this.

Fragano: Then there was the MARTA bus driver who would address everyone on the bus, and comment on every single thing that caught her eye....

I once rode the bus from downtown San Francisco to the Exploratorium with a bus driver who made the same sound as the air brakes would make (and for the same duration) just before the brakes did. Not a lot of fun.

While megaphone-on-the-mobile man is gradually dying out, a new pest is showing up, at least in the UK: textperson. Textperson is so focussed on destroying the cartilage in their thumb that they walk everywhere with head bowed over their mobile as they text approximately the word count of "War and Peace" to their friends in leet-speak. These people assume they have right of way over other pedestrians, street furniture, cars, trucks, etcetera. It's hard to avoid being run down by them on any sunny pavement in Edinburgh, and if you don't get out of their way in time they blame you.

Later in the preview someone says it will eat half the state. Um...it would eat the planet in short order, wouldn't it? And the solar system in due course?

The only good thing I've seen was that someone says that a black hole isn't something you can destroy by dropping a bomb on it. It's not enough. I'll avoid it like the plague it is...else I might get sucked in, watching in fascinated horror and howling in pain. This has happened before.

On the other hand, stealthily steering them towards loose paving stones might work.

This reminds me. Must do some SFnal extrapolation on the subject of future annoyances ...

I still wonder if they were talking to each other.

Oh, well, Britain...maybe they would.

Meanwhile, wouldn't a black hole just sink to the center of the Earth and start chewing from the inside? Or maybe it'd start orbiting the center of the Earth, with some of its trajectory taking it way up from Earth, and other parts of it punching thru the Earth. Someone wrote a novel about that in the mid-Eighties.

You might be thinking of Earth, by David Brin.

It started with protesters shutting down the power
on a 'containment field' of a mini ( quantum? ) black hole
used in an experimental power station.

The black hole falls through the floor,
and starts orbiting around the center of the Earth.

The protagonist develops a method to track the black hole
( first step in a plan to 'eject' it from the Earth ),
and finds there is more than one. . .

I'm gonna have to be very careful of going to that site. To that end, I've signed up as a member and bookmarked it and everything.

I'm nothing if not a fool.

We are crazy up here, but not *that* crazy.

Marketing. High end: makes you grateful for the privilege of being allowed to throw money at the object of adoration. Low end: vile and annoying spam.

Or you may be seeing the phenomenon of passive endurance: most public places I go where there's a tv on, I do wish it would be turned off. However, I almost never ask if it can be turned off, and if it remains on, inevitably, my eyes drift to the light-and-motion I keep seeing in the corner of my eye. If I lack a book, I may watch more closely, all the while thinking things like, "I can't believe how bad this program is. I could come up with more entertaining things to think about if that stupid thing would just shut up and go away."

Most times, when you get the guts up to ask, nobody is attached to the TV being on. Once in a while, yes, someone *is* watching, or wants it to stay on, but they're usually not so much offended by you asking as astonished.

This only matters to me because one of the places I run into public TVs is certain restaurants.

At my workplace, it's not uncommon to see a whole roomful of people busily pecking away at their laptops before (and sometimes during) a meeting.

And yes, they often *are* talking to each other.

Maybe everybody does it.

"Side effect may include decreased anxiety, increased social skills, increased cognitive ability, increased sense of well being."

I may have to get one.

I am a marketer, you are a salesman, he is a propagandist?

*No relation.
*No double-entendre. Much.

Postman Pat is a shill.

Cable TV is, of course, even worse. I mean, I'm paying for this shit, why do I need to eat ads on top? It'd be enough to drive me to video on demand, if it wasn't for the fact that my TV is 11 years old, my cable box is at least 6, and and I don't want to blow a thousand quid on a new TV stack just so I can watch Discovery Wings for a couple of hours a week.

I'd be quite happy to live in a world where all advertising was constrained to by law to the exact format mandated for pharmaceutical product data sheets; a two page black-text-in-times-roman-on-white-paper factual description and operational specification for the product. With grotesque and terrible punishments for hype, spin, misdirection, or attempts to encourage inappropriate use.

Print advertising is fine, as long as it isn't on billboards and doesn't blink at me. I actually like the art in some of them, and the wit in others, and find the notion of a world in which there had not been the vodka ad with all the pigeons in Piazza San Marco lining up in the shape of the vodka bottle to be absolutely blank and bereft.

If anything could spark a riot in the Post Awful line, I think a TV could. But I think the employees might riot first. Should TVs start popping up in the P. O., I would definitely find and buy a TV-B-Gone, you betcha.

What cracks me up is the displays in the gates blare away, but the ones in the airport bars are silent since local/state laws require a 'performance license' in order to have sound.

The texting phenomenon that gets to me is when I'm walking around with someone -- showing them a campus, say -- and they spend the entire walk glued to their cell phone, texting people, and trailing five steps behind me. Drives me batty.

Needless to say, there was no second date. That wasn't the only reason, though it was certainly sufficient by itself.

At least the subway poetry slamming is free, is it? The bad poets aren't pushing you to buy their books of self-published poems (50 pages with about five to ten lines of free verse per page, for $18) the way they do at community book fairs.

I am feeling particularly uncharitable towards self-published authors. I do temp work cataloging at school libraries, which are obliged to take most donated books due to lack of funds, so I had to catalogue these SFBs.

The Library of Moria, non-fiction section. Or perhaps the Library of Babel, only the books make a little bit of sense.

When I lived in Brooklyn, our local PO was a hideous 1970's fortress with one or two surly clerks protected behind bulletproof plexiglass. 45 minute waits were the norm.

To be fair, if you drop something in a mailbox, it tends to get all the way across the country in two to three days, which isn't bad for $0.39. Just don't ask me to actually enter a post office. Ugh.

Oh, and many US Post offices have blinky signs and blaring television sets. :-(

I don't think he ever got caught.

Or I'd wait until he was about 6 inches away and yell "STOP!" I'm just helpfully keeping him from running into me, of course.

Larry, unfortunately any package or envelope weighing a pound or more *must* be handled by a post office clerk for security reasons. So standing in line is frequently unavoidable.

The only real temptation to use the Post Office is the new fixed-rate box. I have an acquaintance who received an entire set of letterpress type in one of those, and it was still only $7.50 or so to send.

(Or, failing that, whatever novel it was ripping off?)

Child of the '80s, checking in...

Sometimes someone would get up and walk across the room to continue the conversation in person. It was sometimes quite eerie to observe, because you knew you'd missed the beginning of whatever they were talking about.

TVs in airports. Yeah, they're pretty bad. It was almost as bad trying to get some shut-eye waiting for the next bus in Fort Worth while the video machines kept up their "Hit me! Hit me! ""I'm due! I'm due!" chatter. Of course, it was just one incident on a trip rich with them. Hurricane aftermath, bus out of gas, fire ants, missed connnections, physical deterioration of the self, capped off with the discovery that an old friend was having a sex change. Well, actually it was capped off with my best friend deciding to break off the friendship, but that didn't come to fruition until the trip was over. I was put on double secret probation, but didn't know it.

Glad to hear the bus poetry was a temporary aberration, though. I don't even like having music I enjoy pumped in on me. Maybe they could make the buses free and try that. See what sort of riders they get.

The first thing that came to mind, though, was "Hi, I'm a poet, and I'm going to read from my latest epic. Unless I get $100 in the next ninety seconds."

I mostly use the APC these days, but for things that require customs slips, I have to stand in line.

(The only thing stopping me from going and doing likewise at ThinkGeek is the fact that the money is not physically in my account to be spent.)

(Not that money is physically anywhere, these days.)

Ah, but in the Brin story ( Earth ),
there had been some extra handwaving physics.

His black hole had not been a 'natural' black hole,
but something created by 'tuned strings'
( or something similar... I don't have the book handy to check ),
and therefore might have different behavior.

There had been an earlier Larry Niven short story ( The Hole Man )
where a quantum black hole had been dropped into Mars,
and the story ends with the possibility it might eat Mars.

It may be that real physists responded with the answer you've given.

So Brin may have adopted the synthetic black hole
to get around that objection.

As it was, his heroes discover
the black hole lost in the industrial mishap
was evaporating, and would disappear in a few weeks.

But the other black holes were getting larger,
and their orbits indicated their origins
had to have been off earth . . .

And wrt volume: I've had callers complain I was inaudible unless I put the microphone of my cell set right up to my mouth. Since the set is a clamshell \and/ has an effective volume control on the earpiece, I can usually keep a conversation going -- but I have some sympathy with people who can't. Do older units typically have an automatic gain control on the microphone, or is that also a drain on the battery? (Yes, cellphone shouters are annoying; some of them have reason. And probably I should just get another unit....)

Rob Rusick: that wasn't even Niven's first attempt. In a very early story a careless time traveler let loose a black hole in the Moon; when he got ]home[ the Moon was shreds too loose to continue collapsing and the Earth was a second Venus. (So this was after we discovered that Venus was very hot and pressured rather than wet; I don't know whether it's still thought that the Earth might have been the same without a moon to stir things up.)

"Wrong-Way Street" (1965). That wasn't a black hole, it was a magic-tech alien disintegrator tool. Same effect -- the Moon eventually gets eaten -- but this was a few years before Wheeler coined the term "black hole". The idea of teensy black holes emerged in the 1970s, and Niven published "The Hole Man" shortly before Hawking showed that such holes would be short-lived.

OH.

You're right, I should have.

Caroline, that's all right. I was upset right after making the purchase; I'll be happy as a clam when I actually get the loot!

I remembered you demoing something akin to juggling in the hallway at the 2004 WorldCon; I guess the skillset doesn't completely transfer...

The iPod keeps the cell-phoners blocked(Good Manners straw poll: is someone giggling at a podcast noone else can hear as annoying as half a conversation? Should I stick to soothing music?), and the book means my eyes aren't on the ads. I've ended up in a few interesting new locales, but at least I'm spared the poets/people with Important Conversations/exhortations to buy something, NOW

Vian
(not Boris)

No more so than someone giggling at a book nobody else can read.

In the years since I stopped watching the zombie-vision, I have noticed ads popping up like daisies on the sites I go to. Example: the little ad-screen at the top of the aol instant messenger. Wasn't there a few versions ago.

Is it my duty as a member of society to put up with advertising, the only alternative being living like a hermit (which I've tried and don't recommend)? If there's another way, I'd really like to see it.

Is it my duty as a member of society to put up with advertising,
the only alternative being living like a hermit
(which I've tried and don't recommend)?

If there's another way, I'd really like to see it.

If you're using Firefox as your browser
you may have some alternatives.

There had been an obnoxious ad
by the Discovery Channel on the Pharyngula blog
( a tornado that animated over the text on the page ),
so bad that PZ Myers posted an apology for it.

On the comment thread of his post,
someone recommended a Firefox extension named Adblock Plus
( and suggested using it with FilterSet.G )

Another one which was mentioned was Flashblock,
an extension which blocks Flash animations on a web page.
It seems the most annoying ads are done in Flash.

I installed both of these
after getting distracted by an ad
trying to read an article on another site
( purple and yellow and green things were animating about,
   catching my eye and making it difficult to follow the text ).

The downside is that if everyone did this,
then the advertisers would no longer sponsor websites.

But advertisers also have a responsibility
not overwhelm the pages they're put in.

Adblock allows you a fair bit of control.
You can disable the extension for a given page,
or for an entire site.

For instance, I have it disabled for nielsonhayden.com .
I thought that would be polite, if I was going to post this here . . .
and our hosts don't have any of the spastic ads
that compete aggressively with the content.

Flashblock by default blocks all Flash,
but leaves a placeholder
so you can play the ones you want or need
( a lot of sites use Flash for their interface ).
You can set up a whitelist
for sites you don't want it to block.

       Example: the little ad-screen
       at the top of the aol instant messenger.

Neither of these would take care of the ad screen
in AOL Instant Messenger, however.

In that case, vote with your feet,
and find another instancer messenger app.

I'm using GAIM,
which I found on this page
of open source windows software.
It would allow you to use your AOL account.
I'm using it with an MSN account.

No, the skills don't really transfer, alas. The poi LOOK like they're going all around and through each other, but they aren't really. Juggled objects really are; strings connecting them to your body would be hopelessly tangled in short order.

"Cool" is exactly the right word to describe the poi spinning. So much so that we kept asking you for repeat demos...

Although at least as far from both juggling and poi spinning as they are from each other, one of the coolest things I saw in Ferrara last year was the flag-throwing games -- actually, I saw several of the eight teams rehearsing in advance of these games. Think precision marching combined with formation exchanges of flags (on poles maybe four feet long) by tossing them in a high arc to a partner fifteen feet away. Most teams carried two flags per thrower, but one used three each.

There's also Privoxy. It's an ad-blocking program that sits between your browser and the internet - and unlike Adblock, it comes with a pretty good set of filter rules built in. The Windows version, in particular, is very easy to install and use.

That having been said, I actually use Adblock and Flashblock as well, to catch the ads that get through Privoxy. O tempora, o mores and all that.

Try this site for poi

Pure coincidence that I came across it last night.

One of the ads is by a language school (Berlitz I think) and is a short English conversation lesson. The first installment I saw got me thinking that the segment might actually be something useful. It was about the difference between the words "rest" and "break," which are often the same word in Japanese. It had a pretty, happy blond girl teaching her cute and energetic student. She asked her student the question, and her student acted it out with very good pronunciation and memorable pantomime. At the end, the teacher summarized the lesson and said her catchphrase: "Do you get it?" Hmm. Here was a train-media-thing where repetition and sound could help.

The next day was monday, the big ad switchover day. The second installment in the series would shatter my illusions. This one featured Piotr, and a smarmier, more condescending man you couldn't easily find. This lesson was about the difference between the words "handle" and "steering wheel". Instead of the teacher and student having fun together, this segment featured Piotr harassing an absent-minded-looking student. Piotr asked the student "when you drive a car, what do you grip?" and the student responded "I grip the handle". At this point Piotr shoots the camera a "god, what a moron" look and holds up a picture of a car. Pointing to the door handle he snidely says says "The handle???" The student furiously backpedals and says "No, no! I meant the Steering Wheel!" And then Piotr ends this horror with his catchphrase "Now Don't forget it!" Arg!

At first I thought the idea of cute language lessons was as beneficial and benign as onboard advertising could get, but after Piotr all I could think was "How did that horrible man get in front of a video camera? I'm glad I don't have to study at Berlitz. He should be fired."

Keir, a bunch of people were spinning firepoi at a Pagan gathering I went to. Then I went on http://www.homeofpoi.com/ and looked around, eventually finding some spinners in NYC. I went and learned a lot from them.

Dave Bell, your link appears to go to the NielenHayden.com "we can't find your link" page.

Flashblock by default blocks all Flash,
but leaves a placeholder
so you can play the ones you want or need
( a lot of sites use Flash for their interface ).
You can set up a whitelist
for sites you don't want it to block.

Those short line lengths are really distracting: I keep interpreting it as some sort of free verse. I always have an image of you wearing a beret, pounding away on the bongos while typing your posts. (There's probably someone ironing their hair in the background.)

Are you using lynx or something similar?

dave "damn the electric fence!"

(Of course you know we mean the Maori kind, not the Hawaiian.)

www.neonhusky.com works from here.

Windows is weird.

I was probably the stick-in-the-mud who opined, when you mentioned flaming poi, that the Sheraton would probably object to the open flame and the sprinklers going off if you used real fire. With any luck I didn't then go into how Boskone (and, almost, Noreascon 3) lost the Sheraton as a venue after an excess of fire alarms and other alarums at a Boskone. :)

I know I've tripped up a couple of people that way.

candle commented on it,
and I responded in detail in this post.

In less detail,
this is a style I like to use
when I'm not concerned with a printout
( and conserving paper ),
i.e, for documents to be read on the screen.

I like to 'chunk' the information into smaller bits;
a paragraph for each sentence ( usually ),
with line breaks to help parse the sentence out.

I like to think it makes for a quicker read,
but maybe it only works for me
because of how I read,
and because I broke the lines.

I have an image of you wearing a beret,
pounding away on the bongos while typing your posts.
(There's probably someone ironing their hair in the background.)

Beret and bongos, no . . .
although I like the notion.
My relatives think I'm a beatnik.

No one ironing hair in the background,
but there is a turtle in the bathtub.

I could come up with a couple more bona fides for eccentricity
( but I'm far from ready for the pro circuit ).

There's a very good, though not recent, book on military food (Chow, by Paul Dickson), but maybe it's time for a . . . . more philosophical one. Like, oh, If I Dine in a Combat Zone. Or The Book of Five Courses.

Well, not from me. Not now, anyway.

Something else: because I have RSI and scrolling can hurt after a while, I have a strong dislike of people deliberately creating unnecessary additional scrolling that adds nothing to the actual content of the post. Were this Usenet, I would have long since killfiled you for this, no matter how informative or entertaining your posts might otherwise be.

Beret, bongos: no,
Although I like the notion.
Per friends: a beatnik.

Beret, bongos: no,
Although I like the notion.
Family says: beatnik!

This is probably why I never saw the earlier explanation you gave.

Your basic formatting idea probably worked better in the days of fixed-width fonts.

Why on earth can't I remember stuff that would result in financial recompense?

-r.
*I'll even take Anglo-Saxon alliteration

There is also a nifty usb device that is nothing more than a large (2.5" diameter) knob that can be mapped to different kinds of inputs on your computer - handy for musicians, artists, and those who do video editing. I'm told. Homebrew version here, for the technically inclined, requires the blood sacrifice of one (usb) mouse.

-r.

Oooh, a jrrafl! They eat the leaves at the top of decision trees, you know.

No diff.

But I'm not bothered by public musicians of less than concert quality, either, and I suspect I wouldn't be bothered by poets on the bus.

I figure, public space is noisy. People reading poetry is just more noise. It might be interesting to engage with, it might not. It might be irritating, but if I were irritated by everything that has a potential for irritation, I'd be a very irritated irritatee indeed, so it's my policy to give potential irritators slack.

Thank you kindly, especially for taking the time to track down all those links. I am currently using Firefox, Adblock, the FilterSet.G and GAIM, and they are working wonderfully.

Once again, I can internet without hurting my eyes! For joy!

The thing with pre-shortened lines: I find that it's hard to predict what's going to be the right information intake for many annoymous people, so better to let them decide on their own.

Well, I've read the nays and yays ( gratified to have gotten a couple of yays ), but I'll go with 'less irritating', and resolve to post with fewer line breaks. The stereotype of 'polite Canadian' is worth trying to live up to.

On my HTML projects, I'm using a stylesheet which gives the paragraph tag a 'whitespace' setting of 'pre'. Changing this would be enough to collapse the paragraph into a block. If and when I learn PHP, I expect it would be possible to design a page where this 'feature' could be checked on or off.

Julia Jones: I don't give scrolling a thought; although if I were using a scroll wheel all the time it would irritate me. The mouse I've been using ( a Logitech Mx700 ) has small buttons above and below the scroll wheel; holding the button above the scroll wheel scrolls up; holding the button below the scroll wheel scrolls down.

rhandir: putting it in a proper meter would be quite beyond me! ( cool if I could do it... ) As I was originally using it as a transcription method, I wouldn't be changing the original words.

Chris Clarke: Hey! I was never breaking words! As an alternative to re-sizing the browser window, you can ( at least in Firefox ) use Control+ to enlarge the font size ( Control- to bring it back down ).

In conclusion: New! Less Irritating! Fewer Linebreaks!

Thank you for your patience. I like this community, and endeavor to be a good citizen.

Yeah, I know: Just riffing.

As an alternative to re-sizing the browser window, you can ( at least in Firefox ) use Control+ to enlarge the font size ( Control- to bring it back down ).

Font size is rarely the reason I resize a browser window: limited monitor real estate is more usually the case.

To cook a hundred successful quiches on a hundred occasions is not the acme of skill. To nourish oneself without having to cook the blasted quiche in the first place is the supreme excellence.
(Art of Cooking, 5th century BC - attributed to General Tse).

"Rommel has had his chips." - General Montgomery.

Though I wonder if someone has hacked together a macro for Word that combines syllable counting with autocomplete. Hi! It looks like you want a word with three syllables that is a synonym for idiot...

-r.

It was delicious, but the next time I'm jonesing for a souffle I'm buying a whisk.

"To make a souffle without a whisk is to overcome adversity. To put oneself in a position of adversity is fckng dumb" - General Tso (He was a good egg.)

"For a list of the ways in which technology

has failed to improve

the quality of life:

press 3."

twice. I should remember the author... Aimee Mann?