After launching the following tirade, the “dropped” post re-appeared. Now I can finish it. Tomorrow.
Before heading off to bed, though, I thought I would quickly move the post into the “drafts” section, to remove but save. Since it no longer applies … right? But wait, there’s more! Move it, you say? “Quckly,” you think? HAH! Guess again!!!
So, after another (much shorter) passing of time, I’m thinking I oughtta leave the sum’bit right where it is. Bwaah-HAH!
OK, WordPress… we’re done.
You have disappointed and frustrated me once again…
You dropped a perfectly good write-up as I was working on it.
This time, you even confirmed that it had actually posted and up-loaded, pictures and all.
I was in the middle of a project and had to divert away, so I saved my work, natch… and when I went back… nada!
I know, I know: I should write on a separate document, like Word or whatever, but this “live in the moment” approach works really well for me. My little write-ups, or “memoiryviews” I still like to call ’em, just ain’t the same otherwise, and that particular feature is quite important- it’s popular, and has been right from the start. Gonna keep that going.
FaceBook has never lost a post on me, and it’s a whole hell of a lot easier to work with. Sure, I have to put the pics at the bottom of the entry only; no way else-wise, but dat be a weeny little price to pay. I mean, really– that right there is a great example of what an effing p-i-t-a you are, you friggin’ WordPress piece o’ time-wasting trash-tech, you . . . – When I first started this whole bloggy-thing, you used to let me have my way with you, as far as putting my pictures wherever the hell I wanted. Then you got uncooperative in that way, one more of the many ways in which you refuse to play nice. I’m sure it’s all about your “WHSIWYG” technology, but FB is basically the epitome of the same, and it works just fine. Besides, with the quality of results I get with my low-ball device, 2MP camera and all, it ain’t worth the worry.
So I no longer have a PC and internet access in the same place at the same time… I do my thing, all of it; in fact I do pretty much all my things on my mobile device. Whatever’s the deal with an Android system, as soon as the constraints and conditions of my indigency-induced reality necessitated a more complete reliance on the SamTab, you got more cantankerous and difficult. Come to think if it, I had similar issues with you when I tried another tool, a Windows phone- Operating system more to your liking, or so I hoped; but still a mobile device, so not good enough I guess. Sorrr-REE!
I realize, as well, that things might get easier if I forked it over for a “fully” functional account and its seeming web-site. I would like to, really I would, especially for the credibility that a bona-fide “dot-com” address would bring to a blogger. But come now, do tell: why, oh WHY would I cough up the cash in the indiscriminate hope of expected improvements over something that just doesn’t work in its basic format? I figured I’d get used to you in your free form, and then later, further on down the road when I get my affairs in order, I’d go for the upgrade. Now, though- no freakin’ way- you suck!
When I am in a position to spring for the full package… a better device; maybe a Mac i-thing; I hear that might solve my problems, but at a premium… or maybe they’ll start making Tablets with better cameras, and then in another little while the cost will come down to where a hand-to-mouth chump like myself can swing it (which just ain’t quite yet, anyways)… HELL man, even the working space on my screen is a bother with you; do you have any idea how annoying it is to focus a finger of my mannish ham-hands on the 32nd-of-an-inch (if even that much) margin you give me to swipe you back into place once I’ve gone back ^up^ to look at my earlier text to check for mistakes or revel in the brilliance? Nay, I think not.
Anyhoo… when I have it to spend wisely, I’d be an idiot to spend it on you. Whether other so-called “easy-to-use” web-net resources are all about the same as you in terms of heart-wrenching recalcitrance I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that it might be likely- I’m told that it’s about the “What-You-See-Is-What-You-Get” techno-crap; and cuz it’s a freebie-version. So I suppose I can’t blame just you, my dear WP. But surely you understand that I can not continue with this frustration. This has become one of the most exasperating experiences- relationships, even- of my entire existence. How can I go on?
Some of the fault has to be mine, of course- much, in fact. I realize this. Others my age manage to hold up in the face of such frustration, so it can’t be just that. Although some of those, I really really think they don’t find it as easy as they say- you know what I mean, they struggle their porculent butts off, but once they “got it” they forget their toils in getting it. Or their kids did it, set ’em up and cut ’em loose. Either way, they’ve long since lost the accountabilty that would allow for actual honesty; denial keeps them convinced of just how very easy it all is and how straight-forward this stuff is for them. Too, they stick with what works, once it’s up-and-running; they keep it all inside the boundaries of what they already know how to do- if they tried to stretch out, the whole cycle would start up again. That’s what I think, anyway. I’m not stupid!
Or maybe it has something to do with neuro-psycho-inner-working issues. [Aw jeez, here we go with that crap] But wait! Let me try to explain … let me see if I can make this make sense … to you. Not that there should be any need for defense, of course, but just so we can all understand… or try to… will you? Try, I mean? May I…? Alrighty then- meter’s running…!
Let me see if I can put it this way: A friend of mine told me about something he observed at a certain “support center” for men. Not unlike the kinds of support groups that women might find, or maybe almost anyone with some sort of something such as no one need bear alone; but not so much like twelve-step recovery, or even actual therapy, either… These fellows were given a suggestion, an idea for how they might start a project, see it through, and come to satisfaction at the end. This would serve to bolster the self-image and their self-confidence; they would come to a new (or renewed) sense of Self (appropriately, that is), and all that-there good stuff like that. That was the general gist of it, anyway.
These men lived with post-traumatic-stress disorder and various other issues that will often come with the cluster of complications and compounding ‘satellite syndromes’ in association with PTSD. Of course, being men, we -I mean, they– were generally expected by others, society, and themselves, to “grin and bear it” or keep the ol’ chin up, or nose to the grindstone; whatever… they are -I mean, were– supposed to be strong, or at least silent, and work it out. Which makes it worse. So after some length of time, as my friend “reported” the “experiment,” these guys not only didn’t manage to pick through the process of creating their own little corner of the world by way of this system designed for ease-of-use for the end-user, they in fact became increasingly discouraged and dejected, their hopelessness resurfacing and rearing its ugly, noisy, and self-defeating head. The “assignment,” or suggestion they were given, was for each of them to start a blog.
Jimm O’D ~ The Dusty Turntable