March 13, 2013

Do No Evil?

Chances are that if you’re reading this blog, you’re probably reading a feed of it, whether it be via a Twitter link, via Facebook or Google+ or by what is called an RSS feed. Many folks that follow blogs and the like via RSS use a service from Google called Google Reader.

Google announced today that they’re sunsetting their Google Reader service.

In the interest of trying not to use salty language, I won’t type what I said when I found this out. To say this is disappointing would be accurate. There are worse things in the world, but I keep up on all those blogs in the right hand margin via the Google Reader service. Using Google Reader, and apps that use the API, I am able to keep up on news from many sources and I’m also able to read the blog entries of many fellow bloggers that sit down and take the time to write out their thoughts in spurts that are longer than 140 characters.

By the way, I added a new blog to the blog roll today. Hello Tom Whittaker!

I’m bummed (but not about Tom’s blog).

Since Google has randomly decided to end support for Google Reader, and judging by the outrage on Twitter and the like, I’m not the only person that’s bummed, I begin to wonder what other services Google might kill in the future. Tired of supporting Gmail? Kill it.

Tired of supporting Blogger? Kill it. (That’d be hard for many bloggers, including the very popular Joe.My.God..

Tired of supporting Google Wallet? Kill it.

They’ve done the same thing with countless other products and quite frankly, Google is just erratic enough to make me stay solidly in the Apple/iOS walled garden. Apple might be thought of as evil by some, but at least their evilness is complete and solid.

Google’s mantra has always been “Do No Evil.” I hope that someday they live up that mantra. Because right now they’re failing at it.


The sounds of helicopters were heard a little while ago. They were on their way to nearby Herkimer and Mohawk, where a gunman shot six people today. Four of them are dead. Four people were shot at John’s Barber Shop in Mohawk, the other two were shot at a car wash in Herkimer. The gunman apparently set fire to his house before heading over to the barbershop.

It’s kind of weird knowing that this is happening so close to home. What’s really weird is that I know John the barber. He used to cut my hair back when I had hair. Earl and I have both been to his shop on many occasions. He has a really great singing voice. I hope he is safe.

The area schools are in lockdown. The story has made it to the national news.

Though the shootings took place 10 miles away, I’m still locking the windows and doors. It never hurts to be cautious.


I eat dry toast and cardboard that is scented like bacon. My sandwiches are devoid of bread at lunchtime because the carbs are bad for me, so they say. Any soup I have tastes and looks like it is just rinse water that was ran over a cow. I count calories, compute body fat and bargain with the scale every morning.

I want a cheeseburger. I want a double Big Mac with a super-size fries and a Gloomberg-defying 32 oz diet pop (must watch the calories, after all). I want to relax for a moment. I want to consider a bloomin’ onion without the masses shrieking in horror. I would kill for a hearty soup. I would rejoice over a reuben made with corned beef instead of a healthier turkey substitute. And pile on the sauerkraut while you’re at it, honey. And yes, double the Russian dressing, double it.

The old scale and the new scale are arguing over four pounds. The new scale won’t budge on his number. He’s a mean, spiteful, son-of-a-bitch that goes and tattles to the world what he just read my numbers as via a nifty wi-fi connection. Who’s friggin’ idea was that? Why does my phone care as to why I weigh? Old scale, always filled with the fear of another dropkick, gives me a number that I can deal with.

I went to the gym last night and spent an hour working out at a pretty good clip. It was a cardio experience. There was lots of sweat, horrible infomercials on the screens and toothpicky people working out for a mere 5 minutes all around me, all so they could go enjoy an evening snack consisting more of inhaling the cat’s food vapors. Not me. You better work it, boy. You might earn a dried grape if you work off 800 calories. I’d rather eat a dog biscuit. I did my tricks.

Somehow I gained 3% body fat in my sleep last night, according to the new scale. Well the new scale can go suck it, as far as I’m concerned.

And today I will soldier on. Cheers to you with a piece of dry, toasted cardboard!