Here is the recent production of the Mill. It is all dreck, but if you insist on not doing the work that you sat down to the computer to do, it may be of some use to you. It can also serve as a counter-irritant. Read on, and you will forget the other things in life that cause you pain. You’ll also change your mind about what the phrase “waste of time” means. …


Photo by Braden Collum on Unsplash

Medium will be spared my midsummer rant. I’m not sure why this is the time of year when I usually pick up my poisoned pen. …


Like some middle schooler wearing a straw hat, Medium continues to thrash about in search of “identity”. I’ve been here since 2015, and I’m not really sure what we are doing. What is this place about, man?

There are a few things that I know. I’ll give them to you as a listicle. I use listicles because I am a “old skool” soulblogger. Listicles have been deprecated in the Medium universe, but, back in the Halcyon Days of the Bloggosphere, listicles were “the bomb”. …


A Plug for Watching “Shtisel”

Netflix/Dori Media

As I say in almost every post, “I hate the world we have created”. I just bought a used car. Back in the 90s, we were promised that the Internet would give us information. Making an “informed purchase”, like a car, was supposed to get easier. That hasn’t happened. I’ve been duped. The crap now fed to me by the iron pig is garbage. This is not what I signed up for.

In the old days if you wanted to make an “informed decision” about a used car, you went to the library and looked for the special edition of…


Interview for a New Editorial Assistant

Boston Terrier photo Photo by Tanawadee Supraphakorn on Unsplash, background of Dogs Playing Poker by Cassius Marcellus Coolidge.

Here at the Mill, which, for those of you not steeped in the arcana of dreck, is the center of the most boring “high fantasy / mensch role-play” metaverse in the entire Blogosphere, we spend the early part of the season lining up new editorial assistants. They become fodder for sophomoric jokes and potty talk, then, later in the season, they either quit or die so I don’t have to remember what I wrote about them when I start writing again next season.

Long time readers (there are at least two) will know that each year’s new crop of assistants…


I heard a voice on the stairs. A big voice. I knew immediately it was Hughes.

Panic stricken, I looked at Pee Wee with the hope that he might convince me that yesterday’s edibles were still in effect.

“Do you hear Hughes?” I asked.

Pee Wee nodded “yes” without looking up from his Sudoku puzzle.

“Holy fucking shit,” I said, “If he wanders into the editorial department and finds them all watering their plants and playing Hades Star or stops by the art department and sees the cavalcade of edibles displayed by the coffee machine, I’m going to lose my…


Are These MY Problems, or Are They Our Problems?

Fools! Covid-19 is a trick! Another false-flag! The virus pretended to be one deadly thing so it could us infect with ANOTHER, more insidious, brain worm.

One of the “side-effects” of Covid-19 is that the infected become depressed, whiny, complaining freaks who drive recklessly in parking lots. Here is the crazy part: YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO GET THE VIRUS TO END UP AS ONE OF THE COVID ZOMBIES. IF YOU HAVE LIVED THROUGH THE PANDEMIC, YOU’RE ONE OF THE FAMILY.

I would like to think that I am still on the right side of the Body Snatchers. …


On the now infamous Ev Williams post;

…which Normal Earthling explained to me, even though I persist in “not getting it” because, like many things in life, willful ignorance and denial seem like the winning strategy… there are 156 comments! If you are attracted to dumb like I am, you read those comments, every one of them. Some… a really small fraction… are very good. Few of them are really bad. Not that bad comments aren’t good. I like to read dumb comments. That’s why I read the Yahoo Finance message boards, reddit/r/skindiseases, and Yelp reviews.

In that stream of…


“There is no way to leverage the backlist on Medium, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.” —Pee Wee

Sir Tom Jones just became the oldest man to top the…


Dear Sirs,

Those of us at the Society for the Preservation of corresponding arts are very happy that you are going to continue publishing letters! We are so excited that we almost wet our dungarees, which would have been embarrassing. Like picking up a tea sandwich and dropping a big glob of oleo on your slacks, or tripping on macadam and scraping your knee and not having any iodine to clean it, or asking the milkman to leave the receipt in the letterbox, or… well… you get the idea.

Sincerely,

The Society for the Preservation of Corresponding Arts

Dear Sirs…

Gutbloom

Tribune of Medium. Mayor Emeritus of LiveJournal. Third Pharaoh of the Elusive Order of St. John the Dwarf. I am to Medium what bratwurst is to food.

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