Good morning. Hello. How are you? #787
Year-end tasks, more Covid observations, a proposed employment contract for the next CEO of Twitter.
Good morning! Hello there, friends. How are you? All well. I am feeling okay, thank you for your kind words and sympathies. You are all wrong though, it is my fault, it was dumb, I am a bad person, etc. etc. I am “deep Gen X” self-loathing is our thing, at least any self-respecting Gen Xer not those fake ones that get into politics n shit.
SO. Let’s see.
I figured I may as well get started on my long list of end-of-year tasks, which always take up an inordinate amount of time during my holiday break. Many of them are computer-intensive. If I were the kind of area Substacker who linked back to past posts to juice the word count, I would include a passage here about it, long time readers probably remember. But in any case, I have to sort all my photos, turn my journal into a book, deal with my giant paper pile and file it away, swap out the Plex Time Machine drive (just did that last week! One done!), top up Jane’s 529 plan, update my goodreads, check my domain registrations, etc. etc. Its a fun list.
So Sunday and Monday I sorted about 3,000 photos into their appropriate folders using my amazing, high-speed fantastic photo sorting technique that is unmatched even though people always tell me there are better ways. They are wrong. My way is the best. It takes two monitors though. I also did my “to sort” folder — another important hack. Have a file on your desktop that you dont’ want to get rid of but don’t know where to file it? Put it in the “to sort” folder. It can stay there forever if you want! Or you can be insane like me and file everything in there once a year. It was only like 400 items but each one takes like a full minute, I swear to god. Same with your browser’s download folder. Not a lot of items (relatively speaking, compared to camera roll) but each one is a pain. Also, can I just say it sucks so hard when you’re working through a folder called “to sort” then inside it there’s another folder called, like “pix” and suddenly the single item to sort you had in front of you turns into, like, 500 photos? Thankfully that only happened once this year. Ironically it was a folder of photos from my December 2021 trip to NYC, one year ago, where I went to four shows and did not get covid. Bah.
I also took the time to fix a few lingering problems with the organization system. Another great thing about this system is it is self-improving and self-healing, rather than chaotic and decaying like most photo organizing systems. I did some reorg on the RDU/RDU balloons/Triangle/Chapel Hill/Carrboro folders to make it all work as the system, grows since, you know, I live here. I added a folder for the Elon/Twitter mess. I added a folder for raccoon memes. I added a folder for this Covid sickness. I also took a moment to name every photo in the “vinyl” folder so now I know which ones haven’t been posted in GMHHAY yet. Here’s one for you now!
Photo sorting is the most tedious year-end task, and it is done. Next most tedious is turning the Journal entries into a paper book, so I will start that tomorrow.
I am also doing, you know, my job, and there’s actually a fair bit going on, but most of it is me-with-vendors, not me-with-employees, many of whom are already on vacation, so I can sort of dictate timelines and whatnot. At least a little bit. I did do three calls today. That was maybe… ill advised. If I am at the 2-hour point past a drug battery, I feel great, barely even sick. Especially if I have my broth mug with me — god, broth is the best right now. But then I do a call and afterwards I am just exhausted. It’s crazy!
A few other notes before I try and fully return to GMHHAY programminc and never speak of this embarrassing affair:
My PCR test was positive, surprise surprise, but I am very sad and somewhat disturbed to learn it does not specify which strain of Covid I have, wtf. They know, right? Like the state reports this. Why can’t they tell me?
My Paxlovid regemin is completely unknowable. Zero side effects — people keep asking me if I have the metal taste, but no, its fine. And I started it so fast it didn’t have a chance to “improve” my symtoms. I am very glad to be on it, but it is an utter black box.
I have an unrelated doctor’s appt tomorrow and I emailed them asking if I should cancel and doc said “nah, it’s fine, come on in and thanks for letting me know so I can wear a mask.” WTF! First off! Whenever you go to this clinic, they ask if you have Covid, so, I’m just gonna have to say yes, out loud, in a waiting room? And freak out a bunch of other patients? Because this is what they want me to do? This is insane. Also… you weren’t gonna wear a mask otherwise? I know this isn’t true, she’s always wearing one but… weird thing to say! Does she only wear one around us patents who also wear one? I am flummoxed.
Okay, so: Elon. It really is stunning how he can be even more crazy each day. I am somewhat saddened he backed down from his batshit rule changes yesterday. They were just so over-the-top even his fanboys were starting to feel light bulbs go off. They were so close. But now they have spun the whole “have a terrible idea and compulsively implement it even though a two year-old could see it was bad and then quickly recant when it goes exactly as bad as everyone but you knew it would go” routine as… “an exercise in transparency” lol. Yes. Okay. I’m going to announce to everyone I’m going to stub my toe because its cool, but you know what? Stubbing your toe is still stupid! Whether it’s announced in advance or not! Sometimes things are just stupid!
Regarding his stupid-ass quit poll, yes, of course he already made up his mind. And yes, you could game it out a million different ways but I’m going Occam’s Razor here: it is just f’n hilarious he got to see himself losing that poll so badly. Just like getting boo’d at the Dave Chapelle show. It brings me immense pleasure when he is confronted with concrete, real-world evidence that people are sick of his shit.
As for the job, though, I would like it, please. Absolutely. First off, I mean, I am a better choice than virtually every idiot in the running. They are all bad ideas. And sycophants! And publicity hounds! And have no experience! I literally work at a company whose raison d’etre is making money for mobile apps, so, you know, not too stressed about the second-biggest problem at hand. If Twitter implemented Nimbus they’d be good to go. Twitter used to report their CPMs in their public filings, I know the CPMs our product does, bob’s your uncle. Problem solved.
The entire rest of the job is putting out fires, prostrating yourself to regulatory bodies, and triage and repair. It will be unpleasant but it is doable and mostly plays to my strengths.
The first-biggest problem, of course, is Elon Musk himself, and him owning the company. Him telling the world he’s going to quit being CEO and hire someone else literally doesn’t mean anything, because he will still own Twitter and the problem with Twitter is that Elon Musk owns it.
But it could be done. The deal would look like this. This is what the employment contract looks like:
Elon must hand me a cashier’s check for $20 million. Elon will never see this money again. I set my own salary on top of this, once Twitter is profitable. It will include a percentage of the profits. A fairly hefty one.
Elon must never mention my name, ever, or Tweet about me, or talk about me in public, private, or on Twitter. If he does, he forfeits his entire stake of Twitter to me. This is instantaneous and irreversible, at the sole discretion of a retired Delaware Chancery Court judge, whose identity Elon cannot know. This judge will be Very Online and will have a big button at his house that immediately does this when he presses it. He will be paid by Twitter.
Also to make this threat stick, cuz Elon does not care about money, Elon will be permanently banned from Twitter, forever, regardless of who owns it, if he violates rule 2.
When I say “me” I mean me, my family, my closest friends.
Elon can never speak to me at all for the next four years.
This can be repeated a second term of four years, same terms, if we both agree.
Rule 2 stays in effect in perpetuity, even after the term is ended or he (inevitably) fires me.
That’s it. Ideally you’d be an anonymous CEO but I don’t think that’s workable. So you probably gotta have that fucker Tweet out something like “I chose this person to be CEO. I trust them. Please leave them alone to do their job.” The abuse would still be a nightmare but I suspect managable thanks to the $20 mil. You would have to leave your house for a year or so I suspect.
Also if this were all real he’d have to buy my current company cuz I don’t want to quit, but, you know, we are living in fantasy land here so no need to dwell on that.
Jane and I had a nice Zoom last night. Here is a still:
Shoegaze playlist for you I was so, so wrong about getting to the bottom of the Spotify shoegaze K-hole there are so many more shoegaze bands and here are 14 more, 12 of which I have never heard of until the last month or so. No classics, no hits. Also “Conheartist” is a great band name. Also, apologies for getting the date wrong in yesterday’s playlist. Perils of writing these in advance (I am doing it again now, shhh. It is Monday evening right now. I need my sleep!)
Talk tomorrow!