Stop Failing Me, Medium

Here Are Some Christmas Cards I Give As a Gift

Let me be clear: my feed suxors. I blame you… and you… and you in the coffee shop… and you reading on your phone in the bathroom. All of you. You people of my feed. I am not getting what I want out of this free service and it’s not my fault. I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. I’m holding up my end of the bargain. I’m reading. I’m obsessively hitting “refresh”, but it’s not working. That leaves you. The problem must be you.

What do I want? Well, it is a hard time of year. It is very dark outside. Here in New England “global warming” seems to mean that Winter will be a season of “cold rain and dangerous ice like they used to get in Virginia and Maryland.” The lonesome whistle of the seasonal affect train is sounding up the line. I want Medium to throw the switch. I want my feed to burn away the gloom. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

We could all use a little light, not just in the form of electric Christmas baubles, but also in the feed. We can all “lighten up”, can’t we? Everyone is trying too hard. The pros have made our beloved Medium community very serious. People don’t seem willing to let it rip anymore. If so, that’s a shame.

What separates the creative underclass and from the pros is that we don’t have to have a “peg”. We don’t need a reason to publish. We’re not selling the post to someone. The only rational I need for publishing an entry is that my publish finger is itchy.

If I want to hippo-splatter my dreck all over the tubes, I can. Guess what? I just did. You’re standing in it. I’m sorry it had to happen this way.

You have been good sports to read this far. Here is my gift. If you haven’t figured out your holiday card for this year, feel free to use any of the following. I created them, but I don’t own the rights to any of the images. If the lawyers knock on my door, I’m going to say “I got them from the Library of Congress. Last time I looked, the American people OWNED the Library of Congress, Bucko.” (lawyers like it when you call them “Bucko”).

These are very old. I didn’t even bother to change the dates, but since most of the people who were on Medium this time last year are now gone, that should not be a problem.

Advent is when we patiently await the arrival of a baby, like a pregnant woman. You know what pregnant women do? They eat a lot. I think “patient waiting” means eating quietly. Quietly by yourself. Whatever you like. You’re eating for two: your physical self and your spiritual self. Both like Fritos.
It’s funny, right? Australia’s seasons are backwards! That’s so fucked up! Don’t worry… they won’t see this post. Jules and Gloss, and Arin Basu are all asleep right now. When they wake up this post will be buried by 25 articles from Mel magazine and the Ringer.
I stole this joke from a guy on LiveJournal named flying_blind. Please don’t tell him. He still kind of likes me.
I stole this joke from someone I work with. I’m sure he got it in prison. Jokes come from prison. Did you know that? It’s true. You could look it up.
I stole this from some kid. That kid was telling jokes at a family gathering. She killed. When you have 20 adults laughing at a 10-year-old, a ham is born.
One pack, you get 52 cards. So EASY!!!!
Crap, I knew I couldn’t avoid referencing the election for an entire post.

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.

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.