When Django the Poodle had a tag removed from his eyelid recently by his expensive ophthalmologist (he also has a cardiologist; he has two more drs than I do) he was outfitted with a blue fabric cone of shame. But he found no shame in it, wearing it jauntily around the neighborhood and calling to mind something Elizabethan or Rembrandtian. As a plus, after a few days, It contained enough remnants of dinner to keep him entertained. Anyway, best wishes to Sallie.
I think that Sallie is purposely wielding her cone as a battering ram. The other human member of the household can’t quite see that she’s that willful. (Though she’s plenty willful.) The cone doesn’t seem, really, to bother her, behind preventing her from scratching her head, which is its entire point, but I’m sure we’ll all be happy when it’s gone. (She’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon for a bandage change etc.) (God bless doggie health insurance, right?)
Ditto. I adored their Mad Men write-ups, even when I didn't always agree with them. And they save me hours of viewing time when I can simply read their take on various television programs instead of watching the shows.
My dear, late, friend Jim Walker called me on my birthday years ago and asked how I was doing. I replied that although I've never been one to think about my age, and none of the 5s or 0s had been a problem, forty-seven was really hitting me; it was the first time my age sounded old.
Jim said, "You are so [expletive in gerund form] stupid."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you're forty-six, idiot." He ran through the math, and it checked out.
I instantly felt like a yoot. And a year later, forty-seven was no big deal.
If you’re going to possessivize a word in quotation marks, the first thing to do is to try not to do it. But if you’re going to do it, the apostrophe most definitely goes between the quoted matter and the s.
I like the original definition of enshittification established by Cory Doctorow, which offered a useful and specific description of how markets and investment have changed in recent years.
Unfortunately, it's come to be used to mean, rather generically, things getting bad with no relation to Doctorow's essay. As such, the word's lost its usefulness. (Although Docotorow's idea has not.)
Yeah, in the original sense defined by Doctorow, enshittification uniquely describes a specific dynamic in the life cycle of platforms and online services. More than that, the concept expands our understanding of how this dynamic works, on what that life cycle consists of. I now *recognize enshittification in action* thanks to Doctorow’s thesis.
I don’t need the word for this concept to be the specific word that Doctorow chose, and I can appreciate your aesthetic objection, Benjamin! On the other hand, I also appreciate jargon having a transparent connection to ordinary language, and the humor of the term is not a drawback for me.
I have not myself often encountered the term used colloquially without reference to the dynamic that Doctorow identified. I do find that when I use it correctly, there are technologically savvy people who know what it means and people who assume that it just means “things getting worse” who need it explained. But this is an opportunity to educate them on the phenomenon, not just the jargon, so in my view it’s all good!
Since my comments tend to be lengthy, I’ll isolate them.
1. it was exciting, in a synchronous way, to see you mention two coinages in the same sentence that I used to introduce a solo night spent in a hotel room in a Substack post a couple of weeks ago.
I wrote, “The photos above are self-portraits—selfies, as the kids say.” And two paragraphs later, “Trapped in a shoebox, not wanting to write or doomscroll, I photographed myself with one of the plastic waste basket liners on my head.”
Yassir, that’s my Arafat. Nosir, it don’t mean squat….
The footnotage excels.
Excessively, even.
"Nevah."
Just another gimcrack adventure, says this up-to-date hepcat!
So’s your old man!
Aw, yer mother wears combat boots!
When Django the Poodle had a tag removed from his eyelid recently by his expensive ophthalmologist (he also has a cardiologist; he has two more drs than I do) he was outfitted with a blue fabric cone of shame. But he found no shame in it, wearing it jauntily around the neighborhood and calling to mind something Elizabethan or Rembrandtian. As a plus, after a few days, It contained enough remnants of dinner to keep him entertained. Anyway, best wishes to Sallie.
I think that Sallie is purposely wielding her cone as a battering ram. The other human member of the household can’t quite see that she’s that willful. (Though she’s plenty willful.) The cone doesn’t seem, really, to bother her, behind preventing her from scratching her head, which is its entire point, but I’m sure we’ll all be happy when it’s gone. (She’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon for a bandage change etc.) (God bless doggie health insurance, right?)
And: Thank you! And Sallie thanks you!
Wind chime and two skateboards. Your endnotes sustain me.
Sweet Sallie! Give her lots of snuggles. Though that might be challenging with that headgear.
So many endnotes! I appreciate your keeping me up to date on the kids’ lingo.
Don’t forget “yeet”.
I love “yeet”! Yass, “yeet”!
How delightful to discover that you, too, are a TLo fan.
All the way back to Project Runway and, especially, Mad Men. They are amazing.
Ditto. I adored their Mad Men write-ups, even when I didn't always agree with them. And they save me hours of viewing time when I can simply read their take on various television programs instead of watching the shows.
My dear, late, friend Jim Walker called me on my birthday years ago and asked how I was doing. I replied that although I've never been one to think about my age, and none of the 5s or 0s had been a problem, forty-seven was really hitting me; it was the first time my age sounded old.
Jim said, "You are so [expletive in gerund form] stupid."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you're forty-six, idiot." He ran through the math, and it checked out.
I instantly felt like a yoot. And a year later, forty-seven was no big deal.
🫢
What a wonderful and strange piece of punctuation: “yassification”’s. I have never seen such a rare beast in print.
If you’re going to possessivize a word in quotation marks, the first thing to do is to try not to do it. But if you’re going to do it, the apostrophe most definitely goes between the quoted matter and the s.
I like the original definition of enshittification established by Cory Doctorow, which offered a useful and specific description of how markets and investment have changed in recent years.
Unfortunately, it's come to be used to mean, rather generically, things getting bad with no relation to Doctorow's essay. As such, the word's lost its usefulness. (Although Docotorow's idea has not.)
See https://www.wired.com/story/tiktok-platforms-cory-doctorow/
Yeah, in the original sense defined by Doctorow, enshittification uniquely describes a specific dynamic in the life cycle of platforms and online services. More than that, the concept expands our understanding of how this dynamic works, on what that life cycle consists of. I now *recognize enshittification in action* thanks to Doctorow’s thesis.
I don’t need the word for this concept to be the specific word that Doctorow chose, and I can appreciate your aesthetic objection, Benjamin! On the other hand, I also appreciate jargon having a transparent connection to ordinary language, and the humor of the term is not a drawback for me.
I have not myself often encountered the term used colloquially without reference to the dynamic that Doctorow identified. I do find that when I use it correctly, there are technologically savvy people who know what it means and people who assume that it just means “things getting worse” who need it explained. But this is an opportunity to educate them on the phenomenon, not just the jargon, so in my view it’s all good!
Since my comments tend to be lengthy, I’ll isolate them.
1. it was exciting, in a synchronous way, to see you mention two coinages in the same sentence that I used to introduce a solo night spent in a hotel room in a Substack post a couple of weeks ago.
I wrote, “The photos above are self-portraits—selfies, as the kids say.” And two paragraphs later, “Trapped in a shoebox, not wanting to write or doomscroll, I photographed myself with one of the plastic waste basket liners on my head.”
2. 👇This is a beautiful thing.
“yassification”’s
Even more so in the default typeface of your piece.
Let me know if you drive to Vegas and drop acid. I’ll meet you there. Now I’m itching to publish my In Search of Oz story I’m sure you’ll appreciate.
Oh, dear. Being in my seventies, I fear that when I enjoy new words coined to annoy the elderly, I’m falling down on the job.
❤️