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Drat! Just when we seemed to have cleared the path towards
one of the very top slots at the Berkman
Center blog server slots, due
to the untimely departure of former fellow Dave
Winer to new projects and greener pastures,
a new contender has entered the fray, and is eating our collective lunch.
Not that the Dowbrigade is obsessed by ratings or rankings, but since our
Blog began climbing the Top Blogs list in our admittedly provincial corner
of the Blogosphere we admit to keeping a discrete eye on the flow totals.
We remember during those early days being closely matched in the daily
results with the inestimable Christopher
Lydon.
Always in awe of Chris’s
encyclopedic knowledge, incisive perceptivity and honey-dipped delivery,
we knew there was no way we could compete in profundity or professionalism,
we attempted to outnumber him in the sheer volume of our postings.
Having noticed that our hit total took a jump every time we posted a new
entry, due no doubt to aggregator and automated hits combined with our
own auto-hits in the process of composing and posting each entry. On numerous
pathetic nights during that first long blogging summer we would sit at
our computer inventing post after post until our daily total inched past
Chris’s.
Luckily,
this childish, ego-fueled behavior was rendered moot when Chris transcended
to an independent and personalized blogging
platform, and we pretty much inherited his
spot in the Berkman hierarchy (although he still beats me like a rug some
days, despite the fact he hasn’t posted since March).
But outlasting the competition had become for us a quietly effective, not
to say insidious style which has become a mainstay of the Dowbrigade’s
survival strategies
for a
long
time now.
Keeping
a low
profile
while the opposition beats itself and each other to a pulp has worked for
us at least since grade school playground recess and gym class showdowns
at
that
prototypical
American Darwinian elimination activity known as Dodge ball.
As vicious
an outlet for pre-teen and adolescent sadism as has come out of middle
America, Dodge ball has been largely condemned and forbidden in these
"enlightened" times. For those of our readers too young or alien to be
familiar with
this childhood trial
by fire, let us explain the basic rules of dodge ball. A large group
of players, often mixed boys and girls, especially popular in "primary"
school, grades 1-6, which in the US means 7-12 years old, start out standing
in a loose
knot
in
the center of an indoor gym or outdoor blacktopped playground.
One or more round rubber balls are introduced into this mix, and the
object is to take the ball, and fling it as hard as possible at any of
the other
players. Should the ball strike any part of the target player, he or
she is "out", and required to leave the field of play. Should
the target manage to catch the ball before it hits the ground, the thrower
was
declared "out". In a time-honored American tradition, reminiscent
of the Shootout at the OK Coral, the "last kid standing" is
declared the winner.
Although seemingly innocuous, that textured red rubber ball, in size
and weight somewhere between a volleyball and a basketball, flung with
all
the force sugar, hormones and frustration can generate in a pre-teen
body, could sting exposed flesh, and who would aim anywhere else.
Many of the non-athletically incline kids would
awkwardly
expose themselves on purpose, or even throw gentle poofballs at each
other, in order to be
eliminated as soon as possible, retiring to the sidelines to relax
and watch the remaining contestants embarrass themselves in a variety
of manners.
The bigger, more coordinated kids took sadistic pleasure in eliminating
as many of these dweebs as quickly as they could, flinging the ball with
all their strength in attempts to elicits cries of pain or better yet,
cowardly spastic efforts to avoid the physical and emotional pain of
early elimination. For these and other reasons Dodge ball has largely
been eliminated
in today’s enlightened educational environments.
Being almost totally bereft of athletic skill, yet cursed with a highly
competitive nature, the adolescent Dowbrigade developed a cagey tactic
of blending in with the crowd, trying to avoid attention or attractiveness
as a target by becoming invisible. Moving around the fringes of the group,
keeping away from the other players still "alive" (offering
the aggressive players less attractive shots and fewer chances to fling
the ball at a knot of victims hoping to kill any one of the group), we
were usually able to survive until there were only three or four players
left. By then, rivalries had developed between the most vicious killers
so that they were often blindly determined to eliminate each other, forgetting
us entirely until we were the only opponent left. At this point, at least
we had a chance, to dodge a few shots and hope to catch one before one
caught us.
It was a surprisingly effective tactic, and quietly outlasting rivals
became our modus operandi in multiple endeavors. Years later we noticed
a similar
effect in another sport – tennis. The Dowbrigade has been playing tennis
for 42 years, and not very well, even after all that time. However, whereas
in high school we were just another uncoordinated spaz on the court,
second-to-last man picked in pick-up baseball games (we were usually
picked just
before Willie the Gimp), as we settled into middle age and kept playing,
quietly learning a new trick or shot every 10 years or so, our erstwhile
conquerors were one by one falling by the wayside. A broken ankle
here, 30 pounds of excess baggage there, our former contemporaries were
becoming
bloated, busted-up couch potatoes. Eventually, we were among the
few in our age group still out there competing. We hadn’t gotten any
better, but just about everyone else had gotten a whole lot worse. Once
again,
by patient inaction we had turned survival into victory.
So our strategy was the same vis a vis the Berkman blogging hits parade.
Lydon was gone, on to the big time, and best of luck to him. Sure,
Dave Winer‘s three Berkman
Blogs were still out polling mine, even though
he has left the Center and posts about twice a month. Besides,
Dave was holding down the fort at Scripting
News, embarked on exciting
new projects and investing his energies elsewhere.
Now all we needed was to help get Philip Greenspun a dream job at the
University of Hawaii, and out path to the top would be clear!
When, WHAM, out of the blue we were blind sided by a dizzy dame with
a wicked way with words. We are talking about the incredible Jessica,
the Cyber-Librarian! From out of nowhere she has emerged to monopolize
the top spot in the Berkman universe, day after day. Unfortunately, it
couldn’t have happened to a nicer dame.
However, on closer inspection, her hit totals raise some intriguing
questions. For one thing, checking out her referrers
list, we notice
that the top outside sites directing traffic her way are: www.adultnonstop.com,
www.live-cam-sex.info, www.7gay.com, www.gay-twinks-gallery.com, and
www.zoo-porn.net.
What’s up with THAT Jessica? Are you involved with some shady X-rated
hit skimming scheme? There is also the possibility that the girl has
made a pact with the devil, and
is actively promoting some Satanic mass merchandising operation in
collaboration with Beelzebub himself.
Quite apart from that side of the equation, it also seems that Jessica
has an unfair advantage in her professional position. After all,
she is an electronic librarian. She get PAID to sit around all
day and review internet information sources. Of COURSE she picks
up choice tidbits to share with us proles. As a blogger, she’s swimming
in her home medium.
Seriously, folks, j’s
scratchpad is a GREAT blog. The girl writes
like a pro, and knows more useless shit about obscure areas of intellectual
endeavor than anyone we know except for our father, who was known in
college as "Small Facts Feldman" and kept himself afloat through an endless
series of bar bets.To boot, she’s got a heart as big as the great outdoors.
If there’s anyone out there who reads the Dowbrigade and hasn’t discovered
the scratchpad, check it out. Its almost a pleasure getting our
ass kicked by such an elegant act.
read J’s scratchpad
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