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Scientists have discovered what they believe to be the first blog created by ancient man.

Uncovered in what is now southern Iraq and what was once the holy city of Nippur, clay tablet entries written by a citizen named Dubsar, a working class Cuneiform Scribe, show daily life in the city in a way that archeologists could never before fathom.

"What is truly astounding," said Peter Trummel of Boston University's Archeology Department, "is how much information Dubsar is able to give us about the life of the Sumerians. Here we've been conjecturing and quarrelling for years about the people who created the world's first written language and now we have literally hundreds of documents pertaining to life during those times. What they thought, what they believed, how they reacted to the world around them... It is, without a doubt, one of the most important Mesopotamian finds to date."

The tablets have also been sending shockwaves through the Web industry, who was just as surprised at the discovery of a blog written over 5000 years ago.

"Though not technically a 'Web' log, what this fellow was doing is jarringly close to what we've been working on for the last 13 years," commented Justin Hall, a man previously recognized as the world's first blogger.

"He was crafting tablets of his personal thoughts then leaving them outside his front door for everyone to add their own comments. Trackbacks, Links, Permalinks, and Categories, this guy thought of it all first. It's amazing," added the second oldest online diarist.

"His work, from what I've seen of it, reminds me quite a bit of Virginia Woolf's 'The Mark on the Wall'," commented Paul Stevens, General Editor of The Norton Anthology of English Literature. "On one level it's a record of Dubsar's daily thoughts. Yet on another level, the thoughts Dubsar thinks and more importantly the way he thinks them, amount to a manifesto for modern literature. Which is curious, as modern literature wouldn't be invented for another 4000 years."

Over the next few years (or decades) archeologists will be carefully translating each of these documents then releasing them to anxious archeologists, scientists, professors of literature, and bloggers around the globe.

The first four translated entries have just been made public, and we're extremely proud to publicize, for the first time in over 40 centuries, the work of Dubsar, the Nippurian Cuneiform Scribe.

Enjoy!

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4th Day in the month of Nanna:

I hate Anunnaki.

I hate the way he wears his hair, the way he breathes, the way he brings his lunch every day and eats it at his desk instead of going out to lunch with everyone else.

I hate the way his big, fat hands press his stylus onto the wet, clay tablets all day long.

Cuneiform Scribe, hah! My donkey, Anshe, is as much a Cuneiform Scribe as he is.

Will he never shut up about his big night last night in Nippur?! How many times must I hear about that beautiful girl he danced with? If he tells that story to another person who comes by, I swear I'll throw a ball of clay at his head.

Comments:

Don't worry, Dubsar, good things come to those who wait! (MDR)

Categories: Work, Personal, Bad Coworkers

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6th Day in the month of Enlil:

What a commute!

The route through the center of Parabus was blocked because they were rehearsing a play, and every man, woman, and child had to be rerouted through the city.

Of course, the detour meant all of us were traveling at a snail's pace on a small, broken road through the poorest part of the city. I almost got off Anshe and made a run for it, I was so late. As luck would have it, traffic eased up around the Inanna Temple (perhaps people were sneaking in to take a nap, because the month has been so hot).

I came in tardy only to find a full Inbox and all the barley cakes already gone.

Comments:

0

Categories: Commuting, Food and Drink, Work, Personal, Hoofed Beasts

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6th Day in the month of Utu

Has anyone checked out the fig cakes over at Belit-Sheri's Cakes 4 Less? They are nothing less than AWESOME!
 
Comments:

Are you on barley paste? Surely you must be being paid for this. I wouldn't buy my sister-in-law one of Belit-Sheri's fig cakes! (ML)

Categories: Food and Drink

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12th Day in the month of Enlil:

Mother Ninhursag, I've got to get another job.

One more day working beside with Anunnaki, and I am going to commit murder!

I should have listened to my mother and become a used donkey salesman. There's always money in that!

Why did I want to become a writer? Why was I so obsessed with the arts?

I ask myself that now whenever my hands are cramped proofreading someone else's sloppy inscriptions. Not to mention when I go to Xisuthros' big vacation house on the Euphrates. (Then again, he did just build a house for Urgil only to have it collapse on Urgil's whole family just a month later. So maybe there is justice after all.)

And I definitely will think about it every time Anunnaki tells me how sweaty his feet are then reaches down and takes off his terrible smelling sandals.

Murder, I tell you!

Comments:

Remember the Golden Rule! (PR)

It's okay, Dubsar, he'll get his in the end! "Wink!" (tp)

Don't give up! (bd)

Categories: Work, Personal, Body Odor, Bad Coworkers

As a Rocker Mom, my days are so busy that I just don't have time to slow down.

Whether I'm taking little Nigel to his guitar soloing lessons or visiting my husband in rehab, it just seems I'm always on the go!

But I insist on eating dinner at home, even if it's in front of the TV watching old concert footage of The Doors or reruns of The Osbournes.

That's why my family always gets SwanSong's Frozen Dinner Favorites.

You may remember Swan Song Records as the 70's label put together by members of Led Zeppelin.

Even though Led Zep may never get back together, guitarist Jimmy Page and vocalist Robert Plant have been "jamming" with top chefs to concoct some of the most delicious rock-based delights sure to fill up even the hungriest Roadie!

Who better to know the appetites of a hungry Rock n' Roll family than its most influential stars?

If your day is like mine, spent trucking equipment across town to stale-smelling bars and converted loft rehearsal spaces, the last thing you want to do at 6 o'clock is try to whip up a Pot Roast with Onions and Carrots for your hungry crew.

You must be mental.

Before we started eating SwanSong Frozen Dinner Favorites, my family didn't know we even had an oven much less that I could cook (or reheat) in it.

Now we spend many nights the dining room table discussing guitar licks and seven-minute drum solos with delicious offerings like:

Fretless Fried Chicken Dinner

Salisbury "Tube Steak Boogie" Dinner

"Two Outta Three Ain't Bad" Meatloaf

All Beef Angus "Young" Mini Cheeseburgers

Whole Lotta Spuds

Glazed and Cornfused Ham Dinner

Great Chops and Applesauce

Rock the Mic-aroni & Cheese

Yellow Submarine Sandwiches

Wok & Roll Over Broccoli and Beef

Breaded Chicken "Kharmagiana"

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, & Prime Rib Dinner

Peas & Rice by the Dashboard Lights

Really Baked Alaska

And my family's absolute favorite:

Stairway to Heaven-ly Potatoes & Ham

I'm sure you and your family will think these dishes are hotter than a '64 Fender Stratocaster!

Why should you choose SwanSong when there are so many choices down the frozen food aisle?

When these two young Rock Gods weren't trashing hotel rooms or partying with groupies, they were in the kitchen (or on stage) whipping up delights like Shepherd's Pie and Chicken Roasted Over 500 Audience Lighters.

Is there a Rocker Mom out that doesn't trust that Jimmy Page and Robert Plant know what it takes to keep a hungry crowd yelling for more?

Plus, with each frozen meal you buy from SwanSong a donation will be made for Veggies for Rockers fund. V4R is a non-profit formed by Jimmy Page's wife and dedicated to introducing guitarists, drummers, bassists, and vocalists to vegetables of every color and creed.

How cool is that?

Hey, can YOUR frozen food company say that their CEO ends his board meetings by smashing his guitar to bits on the conference room table?

Not bloody likely!

Take it from me, a tattoo-wearing, muscle-car drivin' die-hard Rocker Mom; don't make taking care of your family turn you into a wimpy Hockey Mom...

Let SwanSong Frozen Dinner Favorites help you and your family kick out the jams and rock on!

From the "Apostrophe Rocks" column,

Rocker's Week magazine, September 30, 2008

All right lads, this is it.

After years of writing this column and trying to teach you cloth-eared beets the most basic of English punctuation, I'm chucking the whole thing.

Because I'm knackered.

Did you bunch of rockers even clap eyes on the apostrophe in that last sentence?

The one in "I'm"?

I'd lay my bets not.

I've been writing this column for FIVE bloody years and I STILL see articles entitled "Ozzys Black Sabbath" in this very publication.

Could you lads even pick out an apostrophe in a lineup?

Did you realize this column is actually named "Apostrophe Rocks" and its ONLY concern is the use of the bleeding apostrophe?

Mates, it's bad enough I have to walk into a fresh produce section at a grocery store and be surrounded by "potatoe's" and "tomatoe's", but to see apostrophes mangled by my own brethren rockers just gives me the worst kind of tandoori two-step.

You do know most mugs think we're a bunch of mullet wearing, Harley riding half-brains, right? Well, do you have to go out and bleeding prove it to them?

See here, I'm going to give it one more go, then we'll see how it goes next week.

Listen up.

The apostrophe.

You eyeballed one the last time you scratched out the words "Rock 'n Roll" on the bathroom stall. It's that curlicue that's hanging there before the little "n". (I know it should technically be "Rock 'n' Roll", but this is the only abuse of an apostrophe that doesn't bug the knickers off me.)

You use an apostrophe when you write "Elton John's latest CD is a load of rubbish" or write about "Steve Vai's awesome guitar lick".

You do NOT use one when you're nattering on about "A stack of Randall Amp's". "Amps" does not need an apostrophe, so don't mess with it! You might as well replace the humbucker off your '72 Les Paul, old marra. You're just trying to improve upon perfection.

Did I ever tell you I taught a young bloke named Jimmy Hendrix the difference between "it's" and "its"? I can teach you a thing or two.

"It's" is ONLY used in place of "it is", got it? You can say, "It's a mind blowing riff", but you do not say, "Our van lost it's transmission".

Same for goes for "who's". If you can swap it out with "who is" or "who has", then use "who's". "Who's been drinking all the Pabst?" and "Who's going to pick young Tommy up off the floor?"

I'm not asking you to toff it up like that Morrisey bloke, quoting Yeats and prancing about the cemetery. All I'm asking is you don't put a phrase like "Rock Babe's Pix" on your Web site.

A "Rock Babe's pix"? Of whom? Her dear old granny? Her little sniveling Pomeranian? NO! You want to let blokes know this is the place to find pictures of birds in their skivvies!

Use your heads, lads!

If you know where to put the umlaut on Motorhead and Motley Crue, then you can certainly play "Pin the Apostrophe to Form the Possessive of a Singular Noun", right? (That means "Nikki Sixx's tongue ring", chums, so start nodding your head in the affirmative).

It's your last shot to make me proud. Do your old pal Jimmy Morrison a favor (taught him a thing or two about taking the apostrophe off possessive pronouns, thank you very much.)

So go out and win one for Mr. Mojo Risin'.

(See, the apostrophe is indicating the omission of letters!)

God speed, lads.

Nigel Grace

P.S. And one last thing: I do not care how lagered up you get for your gigs or recording sessions, stay sober when you proof your liner notes and mind those bleeping apostrophes!

You can always go out and neck a pint of Guinness after.

Any punctuation errors in this article are not the fault of this publication, as it has been reprinted verbatim (with permission) from Rocker's Week. Inquiries should be directed to Nigel_Grace@punctuation.rock.org.

Fact checking is good.

Especially when it comes to rock n' roll.

Which is why you should always take the opportunity to read the words on the karaoke screen before you blurt out the lyrics that you've been singing aloud for years in your shower.

This way, during your rendition of "Walk this Way", you won't find yourself crooning about "Marcus Wayne" during the chorus.

"She told me Marcus Wayne. Marcus Wayyyy--ne. Marcus Wayne! Marcus Wayyyy--ne!"

There is no Marcus Wayne.

When you step up to the microphone to sing the line from Elton John's "Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road" ("It'll take you a couple of gin and tonics to set you on your feet again") and instead belt out, "It'll take you a couple of Vicodins to set you on your feet again", you're going to get looks. It's an interesting interpretation, but maybe a little personal for public consumption.

It's not really your fault, as singers are often on their 50th take of a song when it's finally recorded. Sometimes they mumble. Many times, speaking of Vicodin, they aren't always in a clear "head space". And who knows what the heck they were doing when they actually wrote the song.

Thus no one can understand what Bruce Springsteen was thinking when he penned "Blinded by the Light". So it's no surprise by the time Manfred Mann slurred their to way to #1 on the pop charts with it, everyone was lost. Maybe you heard the correct phrase, "Revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night", as "Caught up in the noose, swinging in the night", "Dressed up like a dude, another runner in the night", or even "Held up like a loofah by the foreman of the night".

Whatever you heard, whether or not you want to sing that out loud is your choice.

The sad fact is that many of us learned to sing along to these Top 40 hits when we were kids, a time when the whole world was ripe for misinterpretation. Trying to deduce the garbled words of a half-passed out Kurt Cobain as a teen is on par with archeologists trying to crack the Rosetta Stone.

If you were 15 when John Mellancamp sang his hit "Pink Houses", there was a good chance that instead of hearing the correct lyrics, "And he looks at her and says, 'Darlin', I remember when you could stop a clock'", you may have heard "Darlin', I remember when you cooked sauerkraut."

Especially if you grew up in a German part of the Midwest.

And even though The Police were lamenting that "A year has passed since I wrote my note" in their hit "Message in a Bottle", you may have misinterpreted it as "A year has passed since I broke my nose". Maybe you thought someone threw a bottle at Sting. It wouldn't be the first time.

After a night doing history homework it might make sense that Billy Idol would be nattering about a girl with an "Eisenhower Face" instead of one who had "Eyes Without a Face."

Lyrics, by their metaphorical nature, are extremely hard on realists.

In "You're So Vain", a practical person would never expect to hear Carly Simon sing "I had a dream there were clouds in my coffee" when "grounds in my coffee" makes much more sense. Logic may have it that a band who toured endlessly on a bus like Creedence Clearwater Revival would sing about an upcoming "bathroom on the right", but they were in fact waxing poetic about a "bad moon on the rise". And certainly no one would fault a realist who believes Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson's duet "Ebony and Ivory" sounds better as "Agony and Irony."

But realist or no, everyone is cautioned to stand close enough to the karaoke screen to see that Jimi Hendrix wasn't uttering, "'Scuse me while I kiss this guy" (or "this fly"), nor was Michael Jackson singing, "The chair is not my son" in "Billie Jean".

Unfortunately, realizing that the Bob Dylan song you are about to sing has been translated into Japanese then back into English in some large game of Trans-Pacific Telephone, might not exactly give you the courage you need.

At that point it might be best to sit down, enjoy the sake, and see the next guy sing, "The ants, my friend, are blowin' in the wind."

More Misheard Lyrics, just click here.

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Bring this paper with you or you'll start thinking about dinner.

In a landmark case, the estate of Mr. Ronald Dodgson is suing the estate of Andy Warhol on the grounds that Mr. Dodgson did not receive his 15 minutes of fame before he passed away.

"It's an outrage," exclaimed the Dodgson estate's lawyer, Paul Nyquist, during his press conference held in the Colonial Meeting Room at Anaheim's Ramada Inn. "Ronald Dodgson wanted nothing but to be recognized on a worldwide scale. And whether he did anything remarkable in his life (which, notably, he did not), he deserves those precious 15 minutes, just the same as Emeril Lagasse or that guy at Walmart screaming, 'Isn't anything made in the United States anymore?!'"

In his own press conference, the lawyer for Warhol's estate articulated that the artist intended his comment as a wry observation on media publicity in the late 20th century, not as a guarantee of fame. He also indicated that Mr. Warhol did not wear a wig and name-calling was unnecessary, apparently in reference to previous correspondence from Nyquist.

When Nyquist was asked what kind settlement the Dodgson estate was seeking, he replied that the Warhol estate merely needed to provide his deceased client with his additional 12 minutes of fame, however they saw fit.

"We're basically giving them carte blanche in their handling of this," Nyquist said. "We'll take anything except those ugly 'Lipstick' paintings Warhol was always doing. I don't think Mr. Dodgson would've wanted that."

When asked about why his client was only requesting 12 minutes instead of 15, he calmly responded that Mr. Dodgson had already had his 3 minutes of fame.

Apparently in 1967 Mr. Dodgson stood in a grocery store line behind singer Lena Horne's business manager, John Hammond, while Hammond was in a heated debate with the checker over the price of Wrigley's Spearmint gum.

"It was a moment he'd never forget," Nyquist said. "He milked that story for all it was worth, telling everyone he met and repeating it at all family gatherings. " Indeed the story told once again by a speaker at Mr. Dodgson's funeral. And then again another 10 minutes later.

Nyquist quipped, "We are fully satisfied with those 3 minutes."

The lawyer also answered queries regarding his current suit against Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Nyquist asserts both actors have been hording thousands of 15-minute segments of other people's fame and using them for their own celebrity status.

"It's unfair and un-American!" the lawyer said before posing for newspaper photographers.

The Dodgson case will go to court this November.

Hollywood, CA - Mark Kempinski, postal worker for over 35 years, had led the quiet life of solitude, whether it was raining, snowing, or under the gloom of night. That is, until this weekend, when his life came under the scrutiny of Hollywood's brightest searchlights.

Postal investigators, who visited Kempinski's apartment on an anonymous tip, turned up hundreds of bags of mail that had never been delivered.

The story might have ended there had the bags not contained more than 762 Hollywood movie plotlines and plot elements from scripts that were being sent via US Mail before they made it into hundreds of Hollywood pictures.

"This is an embarrassment of a most grievous nature," lamented Thomas Polanski (no relation), spokesperson for the Los Angeles U.S. Postal Service.

Polanski added, shaking his head, "I myself have been complaining to my wife about absurd storylines and poor plot twists in movies for years. The fact that it's the result of one of our own employee's pilfering is just astounding."

Missing plots and implausible storylines due to lost plot elements has been costing the American film industry millions of dollars each year in lost revenue, according to some experts. When you multiply that by Kempinski's 762 (and counting) plots, you have a figure that could be up into the billions.

It's been a wake-up call for the Industry (as the entertainment industry insists on calling itself) and has answered the burning question that's kept many Producers and Directors awake at night, "What happened to my film?"

That answer may be found in Mr. Kempinski's living room.

Among the piles and piles of paper revealed were believable storylines for Glitter (2001, Mariah Carey), Catwoman (2004, Halle Berry), Stop! or My Mom Will Shoot (1992, Sylvester Stallone, Estelle Getty), Georgia Rule (2007, Lindsey Lohan), Battlefield Earth (2000, John Travolta, Forest Whitaker), and every film made by "comedian" Pauly Shore.

So good were many of the original scripts that investigators were quite moved as they read their way through the piles of evidence.

"I walked out of Gigli (2003, Ben Affleck, Jennifer Lopez) because of its inane plot," said a tearful Inspector 2nd Class Louis Mayer. "But after reading what really was supposed to happen to Larry and Ricki, I feel I have to go back and give it a second chance."

Inspector Patrick Davis pondered aloud, "If only the movie Cool as Ice (1991, Vanilla Ice, Deezer D) had been like this in the theaters, I wouldn't have dismissed Vanilla Ice quite so readily. In this script he really IS the next James Dean. Looks like I owe someone an apology. "

Many of the detectives compared the newly found storyline for Ishtar (1987, Dustin Hoffman, Warren Beatty) to the classic A Streetcar Named Desire, calling it a "masterwork" and "existential tour de force." Indeed, some officers walked next door to discuss the script afterward over espresso and French cigarettes.

Kempinski, who is being held without bail, will have a great deal of answering to do in the months and possibly years to come. The major Hollywood studios are already lining up legal teams now that they finally found the fall guy for their box office fiascoes.

At least two of those studios are also opting for his life story to make into a Summer 2009 release.

Plans are already being hatched to remake many of the original scripts, including Can't Stop the Music (1980, Village People) and It's Pat: The Movie (1994, Julia Sweeney).

Though the mail carrier did not seem to be targeting any specific studio or filmmaker, he appeared to lean heavily toward stealing plots from low-budget horror films, films with meteors, Ninja films, and any film made in Smell-O-Vision.

Mr. Kempinski could not be reached for comment, but his mother has been quick to say he is a very nice boy who wouldn't hurt a fly, much less a plotline.

 

As a veteran Blogger and Internet Merchandise Rater, I hope you'll understand that, as a Citizen of the Web World, that there is nothing in my life that cannot be rated, recommended, or commented upon.

Just so you can understand a typical day in my life, I'd like to give you a rundown of this morning, which started off with a wholesome breakfast of Kashi's Good Friends Cereal.

On a scale of 1 to 10, Good Friends cereal scores a 2 out of 10. Sure, it's fibrous, which is what we're going for here, but does it need to taste like the box it's come in? The site, amazingly boasts "20% more granola, tastier twigs, and 12g of fiber!" as if somehow by replacing the words "new blue marshmallows" and "Power Ranger Prize inside!" with "twigs", "granola", and "fiber" would blow your over-30 mind. It's rare to see a First World country hawk any product by using the word "twig". Sorry to say, but if you serve this to your Good Friends, you might just turn them into Bitterest Enemies.

The box containing the Kashi cereal gets a solid 3. Where's the fun, Kashi? Did you grab people off the street to pose for your box of organic whole grain goodness? Sure looks to be the case. Why don't you find some organic beautiful people to stick on the front? Say, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Now there's something we can all get behind. What better way to start your day than by pretending you're in a relationship with either of them. Or that they're your friends and you're all hiding in France, far away from the American paparazzi.

The cereal bag liner gets a solid 7 out of 10. While not particularly recyclable, it's easy to open, easy to reseal, and has many other uses once it's empty (Say fill it with quartered potatoes, a drizzle of good olive oil, and a packet of onion soup mix, then shake to coat and put into a crock pot to bake while you're at work. Or to pick up dog droppings. The possibilities are endless.)

Horizon's organic milk is my milk of choice and always rates a solid 9 out of 10. Before you say, "Whoa, Ken, give me a break here!", just hear me out. Even Horizon's 1% milk product is good, which is more than I can say about many milks, most of which taste as if they've been frozen into cubes then had the fatty goodness hacked right out of them. Horizon also contains Omega 3s which, sadly, I know little about. But I figure if I can get them without eating mercury-laden salmon, that's a bonus. The copywriting on the side of the carton is informative without being preachy and is in a font I'm a huge fan of, Arial Narrow. Horizon also opted for the easier opening round cap, instead of the "gable top" cartons which I've come to loathe. What's not to love?

This morning I had a choice of two spoons with which to eat my cereal. And those choices were not, as you might think, teaspoon and tablespoon. My ex-wife took all the tablespoons with her when she left, so I have two sets of teaspoons of which to eat my cereal, soup, and whatnot. The white ceramic handled variety is much easier on the eyes, but if you drop it on the floor it's bound to break. For this reason I usually go with the stainless steel ones we picked up from Target a few years ago. Easy to grip, they're the ones I prefer for all my spoon, fork, and knife endeavors except when serving guests (which, admittedly, is rare). Today's spoon, however, wasn't washed very well, so gets a 4 out of possible 10 points.

The garbage man who decided to back up then haul off the dumpster down the street gets an incredibly low 1 out 10 points. If I'd had my druthers, I would have gotten the name and vehicle number off his truck and blogged about him before copying and pasting the whole thing to their customer service department. Hey, it's 7am, dude, don't you think people are eating breakfast or even sleeping at this hour?! I realize your life sucks because you cut classes and hung out at the 7-11 smoking cigarettes and now you're stuck hauling garbage in this awful summer heat, but think about the rest of us. (Actually if that's the reason you're doing it, I'll up you to 3 out of 10 points, because that'd be a pretty good method of revenge.)

4 out of 10 points for the bird singing near my window. Pretty enough but the song… would you even call it a song? I'm guessing it was a Gnatcatcher of some kind with its warbling song, which I'm not wild about. I lean toward the Cardinal family, most especially the Indigo Bunting with its lively whistled notes.

Radio Deejays commenting on weather, road conditions, and celebrities: 2 out of 10. Really, you guys are not funny, and if I could figure out a way to position my radio to get anything but your station, I would. Though I'm happy you fired your annoying female sidekick, I can't believe your axe missed whoever that is playing the "ironic" funny sounds on your board. You can pay $50,000 for a soundboard and clips, but if the guy operating it hasn't gotten out of 5th grade, you've got a serious problem. (Once again, if the Sound Guy is just looking to upset guys like me who finished college, I'll up you to 4 out of 10 points.)

And this is all before I've even finished my cereal!

A quick rundown, without commentary, of the next hour goes something like this (each item out of 10 possible points):

Sonicare Elite 9500 toothbrush: 3
Tom's of Maine fennel toothpaste: 7
Itchy Toscano mock turtleneck wool sweater: 2
Clarks "Orion" shoes: 9
Door handle on the front door: 5
Courteousness of other drivers during commute: 3
Left turn signal at Wilshire and Fairfax: 6 (up 2 points from yesterday)
Guy running through crosswalk even though I have the green arrow: 1
Beverly Hills Chihuahua bus wrap: 4
Errant thoughts about my former wife as I pass by her workplace: 2
Strange whistling coming out of my nose: 3
Outfielders: 4
American Bison: 8
Pandora's Box: 3
Slack-Key Guitar: 5
Type O Blood: 9

As you can clearly see, I'm a busy guy!

I'll let you know right now, while you're ringing up my groceries, checking my oil, or trying to converse with me at a bar, I may be multitasking, that is commenting about you on one of my three blogs or giving feedback to your marketing department courtesy of my iPhone 3G.

Unless, of course, you happen to be my manager.

I'll extend you the courtesy to blog about you and whatever it is you said after you've left the room.

Well, maybe not what you said.

Kind of hard to hear you over all this internal noise.

To: All Budding Writers, Actors, and Musicians currently employed at Rupert Hafley & Sons
From: Rupert Hafley, Esq.

It has come to my attention, repeatedly, that many of our law firm's staff members have been endeavoring to introduce more "creativity" into their work.

I understand that we all work in the so-called Entertainment Capital of the World and many of you have dreams beyond working here at Hafley & Sons, but I must request that you curb your creative instincts until the time you leave our premises.

Though I myself enjoy a great book, concert, or subtitled film, I do not wish, upon entering our law library to be greeted by the "Tax Attorney Gone Acoustic," as just happened this past Friday. Nor do I expect to be treated to a Poetry Slam while I am trying to use the men's washroom.

Memos and emails are used to conduct business and layout policies and procedures, they are not your personal forum to attempt to write in poetic forms such as iambic pentameter, sonnet, or haiku (e.g., "Brand new procedure/Please use recycled paper/The Earth will thank you"). If you are compelled to write in verse, save it for notes to your loved ones and for bathroom walls at the filling station.

The same goes for writing a memorandum in the style of Shakespeare, James Joyce, or (and I still have no idea why anyone thought this would be a good idea) Snoop Dogg.

Likewise court presentations should never read like the latest independent film offering. I'm not going to point fingers at whose work this is, but I'll let you consider for yourself how this would sound to a judge:

"The plaintiff looked around, and, seeing no one, took the confidential papers from the drawer."

"Enter, ED BEVICK, Security Guard. Ed is 38 and has never had much to offer since his successful high school football career ended. Ed's life is just as you would think it might be, eating his dinner alone in an empty apartment watching TV and drinking a Miller Lite."

There's a reason why courtroom scenes in movies are so unrealistic: courtrooms are tedious places. Please do not try to brighten things up with your dramatic flair.

Which brings me to my next point: if you are a budding actor, please refrain from introducing theater to the courtroom by acting out testimonies or hiring your acting "buddies" to do so. You may not have been around long enough to realize that our firm was found in contempt of court when three junior partners staged a "rock opera," with full orchestral accompaniment, in the late 1970's. This is an episode we have been trying to downplay for more than 30 years, let's not bring it back into the light of day.

Judges do not wish to hear you cross-examining witnesses in phony cockney, South African, or German accents, nor do they expect to see Al Pacino, Tom Cruise, or Susan Dey presenting a case. I guarantee each of the judges and jury members has a DVD player and a local video store if they feel the need to be entertained.

Using acting exercises, such as proposing the plaintiff be blindfolded and asked to fall back into someone's arms to prove her or she has trust issues, is not only preposterously bizarre, but verifies that you know absolutely nothing about the law.

Do I really have to point this out?

As of this memo, I do not expect to find any staff member on premises uploading their latest mini-film onto YouTube, putting the finishing touches to their latest hit single, or painting a tromp l'oeil on their ceiling to "generate inspiration".

This is a tax law office, people, it is supposed to be quiet, boring, and mind-bogglingly tedious.

If you don't feel like working in a place where, comparatively, a Jane Austen novel moves at lightning speed, please make an appointment to see me.

If you're looking to see some speed, I think you'll be surprised at the pace in which we fill vacancies at our firm.

Thank you for your time.

I am an opera singer.

So you should listen closely when I tell you which is the world's greatest aria.

Or where to get the city's best great pastrami sandwich. (Langer's.)

You should also take my advice when I let you know which cars are safest to drive. Not because opera singers are such outstanding judges of car safety (most are not), but because this is a subject I have always taken seriously, and I consider myself expert in this particular matter.

If I let you know that velvet is the best material in which to make a cape, you might want to write that down.

However, I beg you, do not take my advice on faux Arts & Crafts furniture or where to get a good kayak.  If I am speaking to you ad nauseam about either at a party, please just take it with a grain of salt, as I do have a tendency to go on after a few glasses of Pinot Noir. And while I'm an authority at diagnosing my own maladies, I am not a trained doctor, so my asking to see your lower lumbar region is in no way appropriate.

If you see me backstage after one of my performances, please give me some room, as singing for hours takes its toll, and I need plenty of fresh air. This means no crowding for autographs. Though this has rarely been a problem in the past, I would hate to see it become one in the future.

If you happen to run into me while I'm shopping for groceries, please don't ask whether I think Verdi or Andrew Lloyd Webber is the better composer. Really. I probably just came to get Hebrew National Franks and more clumping cat litter. I did not intend to give a formidable lecture on what is right (and what is so very, very wrong) in musical theatre today. And if you make me forget to give the checker my Discount Club Card, I will be extremely cross.

I come from a long line of trained professionals in what so many consider to be the highest form of art, so please treat me with great care.

The fact that I am treated like a national treasure in Austria, but don't rate for a convenient parking space close to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in our City of Angels, does not in any way translate to you treating me the same way you would the man who stands outside a seafood place dressed as a lobster.

And though we are all in a rush to get to where we are going, shoving me while we are both in a line does not mean you will wherever you're going any faster.

Speaking for all of us craftsmen who practice this fading art, I will let you know we would all appreciate a great deal of courtesy, patience, and genteel treatment whenever you come upon any of us, in this city or while traveling abroad.

I'd like to thank your teachers and the Franklin Elementary School Principal for letting me come and speak with all of you today.

I hope you enjoy the rest of your recess.