Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.

Otherwise, hello, and welcome.
Mail Trillian here<





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Women, The Internet and You: Tips for Men Who Use Online Dating Sites
Part I, Your Profile and Email

Part II, Selecting a Potential Date

Part III, Your First Date!

Part IV, After the First Date. Now What?


"50 First Dates"






Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.

Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Find Federal Officials
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or Search by State

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or Search by State

Contact The Media
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Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)

Quasar
Hyperbole
Amenable
Taciturn
Ennui
Prophetic
Tawdry
Hubris
Ethereal
Syzygy
Umbrageous
Twerp
Sluice
Omnipotent
Sanctuary
Malevolent
Maelstrom
Luddite
Subterfuge
Akimbo
Hoosegow
Dodecahedron
Visceral
Soupçon
Truculent
Vitriol
Mercurial
Kerfuffle
Sangfroid




























 







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Highlights from the Archives. Some favorite Trillian moments.

Void, Of Course: Eliminating Expectations and Emotions for a Better Way of Life

200i: iPodyssey

Macs Are from Venus, Windows is from Mars Can a relationship survive across platform barriers?
Jerking Off

Get A Job

Office Church Ladies: A Fieldguide

'Cause I'm a Blonde

True? Honestly? I think not.

A Good Day AND Funyuns?

The Easter Boy

Relationship in the Dumpster

Wedding Dress 4 Sale, Never Worn

Got Friends? Are You Sure? Take This Test

What About Class? Take This Test

A Long Time Ago, in a Galaxy Far Far Away, There Was a Really Bad Movie

May Your Alchemical Process be Complete. Rob Roy Recipe

Good Thing She's Not in a Good Mood Very Often (We Knew it Wouldn't Last)

What Do I Have to Do to Put You in this Car Today?

Of Mice and Me (Killer Cat Strikes in Local Woman's Apartment)

Trillian: The Musical (The Holiday Special)

LA Woman (I Love (Hate) LA)

It is my Cultureth
...and it would suit-eth me kindly to speak-eth in such mannered tongue

Slanglish

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations


Parents Visiting? Use Trillian's Mantra!

Ghosts of Christmas Past: Mod Hair Ken

Caught Blogging by Mom, Boss or Other

2003 Holiday Sho-Lo/Mullet Awards

Crullers, The Beer Store and Other Saintly Places

Come on Out of that Doghouse! It's a Sunshine Day!

"...I had no idea our CEO is actually Paula Abdul in disguise."

Lap Dance of the Cripple

Of Muppets and American Idols
"I said happier place, not crappier place!"

Finally Off Crutches, Trillian is Emancipated

Payless? Trillian? Shoe Confessions

Reality Wednesday: Extremely Local Pub

Reality Wednesday: Backstage Staging Zone (The Sweater Blog)

The Night Secret Agent Man Shot My Dad

To Dream the Impossible Dream: The Office Karaoke Party

Trillian Flies Economy Class (Prisoner, Cell Block H)

Trillian Visits the Village of the Damned, Takes Drugs, Becomes Delusional and Blogs Her Brains Out

Trillian's Parents are Powerless

Striptease for Spiders: A PETA Charity Event (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids)

What's Up with Trillian and the Richard Branson Worship?

"Screw the French and their politics, give me their cheese!"


















 
Mail Trillian here





Trillian's Guide to the Galaxy gives 5 stars to these places in the Universe:
So much more than fun with fonts, this is a daily dose of visual poetry set against a backdrop of historical trivia. (C'mon, how can you not love a site that notes Wolfman Jack's birthday?!)

CellStories

Alliance for the Great Lakes


Hot, so cool, so cool we're hot.

Ig Nobel Awards

And you think YOU have the worst bridesmaid dress?

Coolest Jewelry in the Universe here (trust Trillian, she knows)

Red Tango

If your boss is an idiot, click here.

Evil Cat Full of Loathing.

Wildlife Works

Detroit Cobras


The Beachwood Reporter is better than not all, but most sex.



Hey! Why not check out some great art and illustration while you're here? Please? It won't hurt and it's free.

Shag

Kii Arens

Tim Biskup

Jeff Soto

Jotto




Get Fuzzy Now!
If you're not getting fuzzy, you should be. All hail Darby Conley. Yes, he's part of the Syndicate. But he's cool.





Who or what is HWNMNBS: (He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken) Trillian's ex-fiancé. "Issues? What issues?"







Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


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Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains

A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right

Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains





























Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero

 
Tuesday, December 09, 2003  
Deeper Thoughts

It's a Little Bit Me, It's a Little Bit You.
Blogging a Legacy for Future Generations.


Buzzkill day here at Life of Trillian.

I found a blog yesterday that brought up an issue which occasionally nags me. It's not the particular content, but the title which speaks volumes about: Life, death, the human condition and blogging. Pretty much in that order. www.forwhenidie.blogspot.com

So utterly poignant, that url, that it nearly knocked me off my chair. That profound little url packs a powerful wallop.

Not www.forwhenidie.com (which is apparently not taken and for sale, should you wish to purchase it), but forwhenidie.blogspot.com This address, this arrangement of words, is the epitome of zeitgeist. Blogspot.com is the perfect suffix. With its poignant title and "blogspot.com" suffix, the economy of words, simplicity of arrangement, to the point title and juxtaposition of words it's as close to 21st century Haiku as we're apt to get.

Yes, I do have a fascination with urls. I love them. That I would be grabbed and carried into deep introspection by one won't come as a surprise to anyone who knows me.

This isn't a sales grab for pre-arranged funerals. (Though the holidays are here, why not give the gift that lasts an eternity! Nothing says Happy Christmas like a pre-arranged funeral!)

Even for the most goal oriented among us, making plans for death is not a subject which consumes much thought or planning. Particularly those under 55. Oh sure, most of us went through "that" time in our teens - those wonderful angst filled years consumed by the realization that we're actually going to die one day, and getting all somber and serious about it so that every little thing that happens seems Important and Crucial and Relevant because We're All Going to Die! Some of us spent far too much time listening to the Smiths. But then we get a boyfriend/girlfriend life is wonderful, and we think about things other than death. We become consumed with setting and achieving goals for life: Getting through college, getting a job, paying taxes, earning a livable income, taking a vacation, finding a spouse, buying a home, raising the kids, trying to save for retirement . . . pretty much exhausts the goal achieving energy most of us have. Planning for death, well, that's a goal for another day. It's easy to put it off with viable explanations: "When I'm married." "When we have children." "When I figure out what my life means." "When I'm lying in the nursing home with nothing better to do with my time and thoughts." In short, when you figure out your legacy and there's someone to leave it to. To paraphrase Mr. Lennon: Death is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

But a legacy isn't just money and real estate. And it isn't left just to your spouse or children.

Who are you? What do you like? What do you hate? What matters to you? What is life like for you? How do you feel about that?

Guess what? Most of us are doing this every day or week. We're typing our little blogs out, sending bits of ourselves into the Universe for, well, all the Universe to read. This is our legacy. This is us. This is what we're leaving behind. Bits and bytes of us scattered who knows where. In all its good, bad, ugly, banal, inane, trivial, informative, vapid, humorous, salacious, pathetic, insightful, wise, profane, profound, stupid, wonderful glory, blogging is not only a global community of personal ideas, but a collective global legacy comprised of personalities.

And no, I don't think I'm the first person to have thought of this. (though reading some blogs, I do wonder if this thought ever enters some authors' brains. But then who am I to judge a person's legacy?) But stumbling upon forwhenidie.blogspot threw the concept into sharp focus.

And here's the part that knocked me off my chair. The moment of epiphany. And the blog part. I've been getting on bloggers' cases about being "caught" by their boss, parents, spouse whomever because they didn't take a few basic precautions. ("There's no such thing as Safe Blog. Use a pseudonym." (My new Public Service Announcement)) And I still stand by this. If you can't handle the repercussions of your boss, parents, spouse, friends reading your blog, be careful and don't be stupid.

But, in doing so, this is creating a legion of legacies, a lot of very profound, witty and insightful legacies, I might add, with naught but a pseudonym attached. Through our cloak of anonymity, we're revealing (sometimes) our deepest thoughts, fears and concerns. In short, the sort of things we don't tell our best friends or relatives.

Let's pretend 150 years from now archaeologists unearth an old blogspot mainframe. They turn it over to the government. A research grant is developed - there are debates about whether or not the government should spend money on this project. George Bush IV uses it on his presidential candidacy platform. Sociologists take on the project of scouring Blogs circa 2001 - 2005. 22nd century techies are trained in defunct technology. They have a glorious moment when it springs to life and reveals thousands of blog archives. They read. They study. They cross reference. They do this to achieve a sense of what life was like at the turn of the century. They are amazed, impressed and a little scared at what they find. They write books. They go on talk shows. They publish and read excerpts of the good, bad and ugly blogs.

Let's say they happen to quote your blog. Something they hold up as a truly remarkable piece of 21st century insight. And then say, "written by takethatyoumutant.blogspot." Takethatyoumutant is being touted as one of the century's deepest thinkers, but they have no idea of takethatyoumutant's "real" identity. Theories of author identities emerge. (The Shakespeare-Bacon-Earl of Oxford debate finally long resolved, and the profession of literary scholar subsequently extinct, blog authorship causes a new industry to spring up, colleges churning out literary scholars to keep up with the demand. DeVry even offers a 2 year program.) Stephen King is attributed as the author of 120 blogs. But, poor Takethatyoumutant is one of thousands, millions, of blog authors lost in anonymity. Takethatyoumutant may have children and grandchildren who could a) be proud and honored to have such a notable ancestor and b) could claim copyright and publishing residuals. Intellectual property lawyers begin advertising on every daytime and latenight time slot. "The government could owe you thousands of dollars. Call now for my free Claiming Your Ancestor's Blog info tape."

I know I personally would give anything to have even a few blogs written by any of my grandparents, aunts and uncles when they were my age or when they were going through various points of their lives. I'm sure I'd be a bit surprised and more than a little embarrassed to read some of their deepest thoughts. And maybe not. But I'll never know. I have a few letters, some photos and a rather rudimentary diary to piece together my grandparents' stories. But from my own memories and through family lore, I know there was a lot more to all of them than what was written in those letters and that diary, and behind those for the camera smiles.

So here we are back in 2003. A challenge. a) We shamelessly strip off our cloaks of anonymity and say loud and proud, it's me! I'm writing this! And I don't care who knows it or reads it! b) We modestly strip off our cloaks of anonymity and quietly edit out the more sensitive or embarrassing bits of our blogs. c) Continue on as is, cloaked in anonymity, saying what we really mean, really meaning what we say and make peace with the fact that the legacy we're leaving is part of a bigger picture, a global legacy. Personal legacies will have to be tended other ways.

All three options seem viable to me.

Option c, however, is fraught with responsibility. Take a good look at some blogs. Even your own. There's a lot of riff raff out there. Cyber detritus. You will be part of a legacy with all these other blogs. This is us. Warts and all. A lot of warts. If you're a blogsnob, this might alarm you. I hope blogsnobs don't falter away, not wanting to be brought down by the lowest level of our incompetence. Or not wanting to be caught by their boss/parents/spouse. Blogging might actually be important to society in ways we can't even imagine right now. There's no room for snobbery. The greater good is at risk by losing even one blogger.

I do suggest carefully scanning archives and pulling out anything you would want people to know is yours and either discing it, or if you dare, write it, gasp, in your own handwriting. Technology changes everyday, that spiffy cd burner you just bought will be obsolete very soon. (Sorry) Case in point: We recently unearthed several boxes of 5.25 floppy discs in my office. Carefully labeled, containing what could be some useful or at least interesting data. Without a lot of time, effort and money, there is no way to read those discs. The discs were promptly thrown away, discarded as relics of another era, and all information on them is now forever lost. But at the time of their inception, they were cutting edge. The data painstakingly archived forever!

You might also want to consider forwhenidie.blogspot's idea of listing favorite things, things important, things that matter and those not so much, things no one but you really cares about. Until you're gone. Believe me, if you die tomorrow, your parents, girl/boyfriend, spouse, children and friends will suddenly care immensely what your favorite song was, whether or not you liked beets, and what you were thinking about the day before you died. And who knows? Perhaps a sociologist or literary scholar 150 years from now will find it interesting, too.

9:17 AM

 
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