ratiocinations out of thin air and elsewhere
RATIOCINATIONS OUT OF THIN AIR is the title that I wanted for this blog. But it would have been confusing as most people don’t know what “ratiocination” means and few would bother to look it up. So we’re stuck with my name with “dot com” tacked on and this is the introduction to that blog. [Read more] “introduction to neal umphred dot com”
I ASSUME THAT FACEBOOK’S EDITORS are, in fact, computer algorithms. Or, perhaps, applicants for the position have to score somewhere on the autism spectrum to be hired. Hell, maybe they just ain’t got no sense of humor! These guesses are based on the few run-ins that I have had with them and their warning messages. [Read more] “when the food is gone, I’m eating you first”
EACH MORNING, I SIP MY CAFE BUSTELO and read my email. There is usually at least one from Quora pertaining to topics that me—primarily current events and politics. Perusing the questions, answers, cartoons, and memes, I hope to learn something new. Occasionally, I even attempt to politely interact with those I disagree with! [Read more] “how to politely interact with lame attempts at “owning the libs” on social media”
WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT! This topic is often on the minds of all types of writers. It’s an especially important topic for writers who have to fill pages in a print or online publication where there is a deadline and quantity is often more important than quality. So why not a blog post idea generator? [Read more] “giving the new blog post idea generator a look-see”
No Sweat
(A poem by Ananda)
I am tired of the excuses.
I am uninspired by the same song.
Seems like everybody wants a quick fix.
Seems like nobody wants to put in the work.
No pain, no sweat.
No gain, no loss.
Seems like everybody wants the promotion
but nobody wants to climb that mountain. [Read more] “no sweat (a poem)”
(A poem by Ananda)
Grow up, Peter Pan!
You can’t stay in Neverland forever.
There will be a day when the dust rubs off;
you’ll hit the ground and look up at the stars;
you’ll sit and wonder, “Where did my life go?”
‘Cause you’re no longer a Lost Boy,
just an old pirate creeper playing little boy games. [Read more] “grow up, peter pan (a poem)”