The most unuseful thing off the internet
The most unuseful thing on the internet
(By the way, exclamation marks are not allowed as part of tags/labels...how unuseful. By the way, I would argue that unuseful can be semiotically different than useless...or I am just illiterate.)
Oh, unuseful here is useful.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Unuseful
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51 comments:
I'm crying. I'm dying. I don't want to die.
Up is down, Joanie. You are a dinosaur, honey.
NOoooooooooOOOOOOOOooooooo!
idiot.
You people are freaks!
we need help.
In the hills around Sacramento, does it matter if distinctions need to be made, on a continuum of practicality, between "impractical due to danger of use", and "benignly impractical", and "impractical for most", etc?
I didn't look in a dictionary for "useless" and "unuseful", so I don't know their socially constructed denotative meanings. Even if they are the same, the Professor's distinction seems to imply she makes an internal distinction between "useless" and "unuseful", so that it seems honest to discuss it at that level.
I take the Professor's comment to mean she believes "useless" is something less than "without use", and for which a suggestion of use could be offensive or, at best, bitterly humorous. With respect to "unuseful", I take the Professors distinction to mean "little or no practical use in typical daily lives, but inoffensively so, and an enjoyably impractical benign use may exist". Quine would argue against the employment of "unuseful" if there is a benign and seemingly impractical use for a thing because, after all, that implies a "use", just a different sort of use.
But even if this is correct or, alternatively, even if the dictionary defines both "unuseful" and "useless" the same way (I didn't look in the dictionary), the Professor's distinction between "useless" and "unuseful" in her post appears to assist us in identifying distinctions along a continuum of practicality, and here's to that. Unless I completely misunderstood the Professor, which is always a possibility.
In a similar vein to Northern American Original Peoples, whose vocabulary apparently includes many words to describe variations in snow, perhaps English-speakers would benefit from additional words to describe variations in practicality or usefulness. Yee-hah!
Excuse me, Elly-mae, but the Professor made no such distinction. I did. The Professor is not capable of such distinctions. It is I who contribute all noteworthy materials to this website. In other words, it's about me, get it.
Elly, elly, elly.
Do not confuse Postillion with Professor Marvel. It would be more appropriate to confuse me with Professor Marvel, and, really, how appropriate is that?
All work posted on this site is property of Marvel Enterprises, LLP.
Therefore, yes, technically, we are all Professor Marvel.
And although the Professor referred to our one-ness with the words...
The Professor's mind IS the workshop. When you're in here, folks, you're part of it. If the Professor's stupid, you are too. If the professor is delusional, you are too. If the professor is giddy, you are too. Luckily, it shifts fairly quickly from state to state.
... in reality, the Professor maintains a great deal of separation from the dangerous mind of Postillion. It is treated like an intruder, like a parasite, an alien, like the X files, like an unwanted Siamese twin. Like a tumor, a government implant, or an ill-fitting hat.
Who is this Quine person? Can Quine participate in the Workshop? Is that a good idea?
Also, WTF, Elly-Mae. "She"?
Your assumptions about the Professor's gender are interesting.
Joanie, Quit. Just Quit. Jeff, look, it wasn't really all that great. I wrote a fucking song about it, for God's sake. Just find some other way to amuse yourself.
You were too young to understand what was really going on. My music speaks more to you and you know it.
The Professor is, understandably, afraid of superior minds.
Owwww, fight fight fight!
Drats! I should have had Challah bread French toast for breakfast.
Wait, Professor Marvel, are you saying that you are not She Who Knows It All?
I definitely am not She who knows it all.
Who are you?
Don't get all existential on us, Professor Marvel.
I think you are both mistaken about the concept of the self.
I never stop being exponential, she with the lightening fast reaction times.
I mean existential.
The Self is like a cloud...porous and diaphanous.
Waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh I love Joanie Mitchell! Waaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.
You are not the real jeff (female).
I am the real jeff(female) or not.
You can't be the jeff (female) because you don't have a space between jeff and (female)
Owwww, chiasmus. Well done, anonymous poet!
Good point Thomasina (female). However, I know you are sublimely crazy.
Actually, I am a sublime lime.
Really, she's a chanteuse in chartreuse.
You are all crazy. Bats. Bonkers. Nuthouse. Mice in the attice. In other words,, Crazy.
Oooh, I like where this is going.
Actually, I don't know where it's going. But I am not afraid of the unknown.
I am the King of Balls.
You've entered the Twilight Zone.
The Twilight Zone is another dimension that vaguely resembles a keylime pie.
Oh, maybe I should have eaten keylime pie for breakfast.
Who are you people?
Jeff (female)
Jeff(female)
Thomasina (female)
"Sequined non sequitur"
"Claus Cloud Appreciation Society member #143226"
"Zen-master, Cloud Appreciation Society Member #348606"
poet-writer
Virginie (male)
Ron Serling
Ron Serling's camera man
You all have some serious reform in your future, if you know what I mean.
Although, I have learned some things (scansion, chiasmus, emerging not budding) from poet-writer. The rest of you, though ...
I don't know what to say.
Make it real or get out, dudes.
This morning, I am eating pan-fried rice cake.
Owwww, fight fight fight!
I will put you into another dimension, King of Balls.
(Actually, now that we think of it, you probably are from one).
You lcloud people are crazy. Crazy. Bats. Bonksers. Mad, I tell ya. Mad.
Oooohhhh, come to my room, King of Balls, and I will show you real real good.
Hey, hands off, you bitch. He's mine.
Virginie (male) is not a bitch. He's a whore, a he-slut, a bastard, a jackass, a ball-flaunting toyboy. But he's not a bitch.
See, that's why I know you are not the real Jeff (female). Because you don't event recognize that Virginie (male) is a male.
To be fair, Thomasina (female), Jeff(female) did say "Hey, hands off, you bitch. He's mine."
Also, gender is of little consequence around here. We bend it and shit.
Easy for you to say, King of Balls. Your gender is never in question. Being a female named Jeff is not easy. I suppose if I changed my name to "Jeff, Queen of the Mammaries" or something I could have an easier time of it.
I think I will do this that.
No, wait, I meant "just that." These Mammarians are all illiterate, including me. I humbly return to being Jeff (female).
Can I join the cloud society?
What the hell? You have a problem with clouds? How could anything be more innocuous and less deserving of internet scorn? What do you do in your spare time, Postillion, eat puppies?
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