by Holly Jahangiri | May 1, 2022
I look forward to May! Every Sunday in May, my friend Marian Allen turns me into a character—yes, even more of a character than I really am!—and my alter ego’s story unfolds on the planet Llannonn, where she—er, we—are Assistant Head Librarian in a Public Living Library.
This year, May 1 happens to also be a Sunday, and Marian reminded me that 2022 is a bonus year—five whole Sundays! I’m excited.
See Holly and the Danger Noodle #StoryADayMay! My reward, perhaps, for being calm enough to breathe, snap this photo, and post about it last week. I wrote:
Stay alert while walking in the park! (Especially national, state, or local preserves.) I almost stepped on this copperhead yesterday.
I’m quite proud of myself. While I’m not afraid of non-venomous snakes, I can’t identify them quickly in the wild and my first impulse is to shriek, “Kill it, kill it, kill it!” while running like my tail feathers are on fire.
I was pretty sure those markings spelled “danger noodle.” But I just stepped back a step, grabbed my phone, snapped a pic, told myself to BREATHE, warned walkers coming up behind me, and the snake turned back to the woods.
No authors or wildlife were harmed in the making of this photo…
Now you see the real Holly and the real “danger noodle” that inspired the wonderful story by Marian Allen – a much better one than might have been written, had I not noticed the copperhead and stepped on it, or had I panicked while taking it’s picture and faceplanted on the poor thing. I’d say it was all worth it, to have the experience immortalized on two planets!
by Holly Jahangiri | Mar 22, 2022
“It can all change in the blink of an eye.” Marianne sighed, waving around the quaint little village square at the new shops. Global brand names, like Kettle & Crock, or La Belle Epoque, carrying Chinese-made goods, had begun to elbow out the colorful little local merchants and their local crafts, giving the landlord more than they’d asked for in rents.
“That’s progress, Marianne. Everything changes, in time.” Alex had an eye on one of the lots overlooking the sea, and grand designs of his own to build a boutique hotel with breathtaking views on all sides. Marianne had her misgivings; the new hotel would block a lovely view of the cliffs from the ancient cottages across the street. Surely the community would not be so welcoming as the overseas landowners and their agents.
“I suppose so,” she answered, trying ineffectually to hide her doubts.
A woman, made of wind-weathered marble and brass, stood in the center of the square, silently willing Marianne to speak, for she could not. Her name, forgotten a thousand years ago, was Rhodos. She knew well how quickly things could change; she had seen nations come and go. As long as she had the sun on her face and the stars to gaze upon at night, she was content to serve as a sort of sundial for the little town. But the buildings men spoke of where they thought she could not hear them would tower over her like Colossus, blotting out the light, robbing her of the stars, making of themselves the only thing her eyes could drink in. She would not have it. She would will herself to crumble and fall away to dust and rust, as only stone and brass could do.
The one thing she could not do, the one thing she longed to do, was to effect change of her own. She had tried that, once; now, her lips were sealed. Her tongue, immobile. Oh, yes! It could all change in the blink of an eye. But Rhodos, Poseidon’s daughter, frozen in marble and brass, was cursed with an inability to blink.
This story is brought to you by Fiction Monday Ninetieth Edition ~ Reflections ~ Vinitha Dileep and the word, “blink.”
by Holly Jahangiri | Feb 21, 2022
Half a Century Ago and Far, Far Away…
I was bored. I made no secret of that fact to Mrs. Brown*, the woman whose unpleasant duty it was to watch over me that summer. “I wish I could go swimming,” I muttered.
“Why don’t you, then?” she asked.
I told her about the lake, and how an early thaw had left it overgrown with thick, slimy, bilious-green algae and duck droppings. “It’s like that at the start of every summer,” I explained. “It’ll be a few weeks, yet, till they clean the lake.”
“How do they clean the lake?” asked Mrs. Brown.
I had always assumed they did it with chemicals, harsh things like chlorine and copper and things with names I couldn’t pronounce. Or maybe Mother Nature took care of it in due time. In a few weeks, the water would be clear and clean and fit for swimming, a fact we village kids took for granted. But looking over at Mrs. Brown’s expression of sincere interest and willingness to listen, I couldn’t say that. It would be too boring. Too depressingly mundane.
“It’s the pygmies,” I said.
“Pygmies?” she exclaimed. “What pygmies?”
What pygmies, indeed. “The ones from the Allegheny Mountains. They’re in Pennsylvania, you know.”
“I see. And what do they have to do with cleaning the lake?”
“We hire them. They travel across the States, cleaning up the lakes after they thaw. It’s a long way, you know. Just outside Johnstown.”
“Pygmies, just outside Johnstown.”
“Yes,” I said, warming to my story. “They camp out on the side of the lake. They’re vegetarians, you see. They like the algae. It’s sort of a, a delicacy to them.” Eeewwww. Sometimes my imagination runs away with me. I pictured little brown-skinned men and women, about four-feet tall, munching clumps of algae dripping with duck droppings. Seasoning, you might say. “It’s actually quite nutritious. In fact, they don’t charge us a cent. We could probably charge them for the meal, but it works out to everyone’s benefit this way.”
“I see,” said Mrs. Brown, nodding earnestly.
Oh, give it up already. Aren’t you tired of playing ‘humor the twelve-year-old’? I thought. Adults can be such dorks. “There are plenty of lakes around here. By the end of spring, they’ve had their fill.”
“Where do they go then? What do they do the rest of the year?”
Oh, so glad you asked. “Why, they go back to the Alleghenies and, um,” I thought hard. “They hibernate.” Oh, right. She’d call me on that for sure. Pygmies are people. People don’t hibernate.
“Really? All winter long?”
“Yeah, all winter. You know, they travel by foot. Won’t have anything to do with cars or planes or trucks or anything. After gorging themselves on algae and marching back to the mountains, they’re exhausted. It’s all they can do to digest all that food. Did you know that it takes seven months to digest a pound of algae?” I improvised.
“No! I had no idea. That’s fascinating. Thank you for telling me all this. It’s amazing, the things I learn every day…” Mrs. Brown shooed me out of the house. If I couldn’t swim, I could at least ride my bike or play in the sunshine. It wasn’t healthy for a growing child to be cooped up indoors all day, with nothing but a thick book for company. I slipped a book under my sweater, anyway, before slipping out the back door. I read under the apple tree until dinnertime.
A few nights later, we went out to dinner, my parents and I, with Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Mr. Brown was a business associate of Dad’s. I’d forgotten all about the ridiculous pygmy story, until Mrs. Brown began eagerly telling it to her husband. Mr. Brown looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head and a third eye. My mother looked at me, and I began to slide under the table in the vain hope of disappearing. “You didn’t–“ my mother began.
“You didn’t!” my father said, trying to look stern as he politely stifled a giggle for the Browns’ benefit.
I nodded silently, trying to look contrite.
Secrecy is the one thing the villagers had always promised the pygmies, and I had violated the contract. You see, they are a very private people, those pygmies…
*Disclaimer: Names have been changed to protect the gullible and the not-so-innocent. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is…well, not meant to be insulting or embarrassing. Truly. Hi there.
Author’s Note: Honesty is very important to me. Both of my kids know that just about the only thing that makes me really angry – see red and snort like a bull enraged – is dishonesty. Lying, cheating, stealing, sneaking – all manifestations of the same basic character flaw. But honest to G-d, if someone’s going to be this gullible… No, really, mea culpa. I’m sorry. No I’m not. There are three times in life when it’s acceptable to lie:
- When writing fiction that is clearly labeled “fiction.”
- When answering questions like “Does this dress make me look fat?” but only when changing clothes or otherwise fixing the problem is not an option.
- When talking to college-educated adults that could not reasonably be expected to believe such a hare-brained tale as this one… I mean, really!**
** Updated 2021: It is deeply disturbing, to me, the number of people who believe this story, despite my disclaimers and the obvious fact that this could not possibly be true. I have received urgent pleas from the Allegheny Mountain Ecotourism Board to update this and inform you that it is truly fiction – please, please stop trampling the natural surroundings looking for the indigenous peoples described herein. They existed only in the imagination of my 12-year-old self. You absolutely will not find them at 40.340345, -78.918745 (last known sighting); after all, it’s spring time and they’re foraging—I mean, they’re fiction.
** Updated 2022: I give up. If you’re looking for a place to stay, try one of the Bed & Breakfast Inns in the area. And be a good Scout – leave the natural scenery (and its locals) better off when you leave than when you got there. Print out this story and show it when you check in, and maybe they’ll give you a discount.
by Holly Jahangiri | Dec 31, 2021
The “Fire Tetrahedron” of Social Media
Most of us learned about the Fire Triangle back in grade school. To burn, a fire needs three things: fuel, a heat source, and oxygen. Take away one of those things, and you can extinguish the fire. But there is also something called the Fire Tetrahedron: Add a chemical chain reaction to the fire, once ignited, and it feeds itself. It becomes significantly harder to extinguish.
Social media runs on things commonly called “social proof” and “engagement.”
Social proof is a lot like a middle-school popularity contest.
Engagement requires slightly more than passive eye-rolling from observers. The trick is to get your “followers” to do something. Basic engagement could be as simple as clicking the thumbs-up icon on Facebook. “Yay, you,” thinks the user. “Whatever.” If you can get them to spend a little more effort – to change the thumbs-up to a heart emoji, for example – you actually got something like a “reaction” out of them. But the holy grail of engagement – getting a thing to “go viral” or “spread like wildfire” online – requires the equivalent of fuel, a heat source, and oxygen. Add in a chain reaction – getting others to share and build on it – and “the algorithm” (a mythical, poorly-understood, often reverentially referenced or cursed) will “reward” you with its attentions.
Will it reward you with sales? Will it reward you with paying jobs as an internet “influencer”?
Honestly, I’m not sure what the ROI is on this largely thoughtless, mechanical attention. Some businesses see it as a matter of economic life or death, while others wisely ignore the whole thing. I think it depends on how much customers need, or more importantly, want, to interact with their favorite brands online and how good the social media teams behind those brands are at making their customers feel special.
That said, when individuals get caught up in playing “Burn, Baby, Burn!” on social media, it can come across as desperately pathetic. My theory is that it is killing genuine conversation and relationships online, spoiling everyone’s fun, and will eventually lead to burn-out and the (possibly overdue) death of social media altogether. Unfortunately, it will drag things like “community” with it, because by the time it’s all said and done, we’ll be so tired of each other we’ll wish we were hermits.
Fuel
Advertisers have long known that there are three things that reliably sell product: sex, fear, and death. You don’t need all three, but a combination of any of these three elements is best. Thus, “fear of sex” is good; “fear of dying in the middle of sex” is even better. Buy condoms and life insurance.
The fuel for engagement is a good story, a controversial opinion, a funny meme, or a cute cat. Throw in fear, sex, or death, and you’ve got a winning formula, for sure! “Fear of dying without ever getting laid” is another good one, and it’s not an unreasonable fear for those obsessed with promoting their “personal brand” and “going viral” on social media. There’s nothing wrong with knowing your “personal brand” or “going viral” with a good post, but when it requires the equivalent of an over-smoothing filter and animated sparklies on your entire life – when you start talking about “curating” your Instagram or “optimizing” your LinkedIn profile, consider the possibility that, as a living, breathing, flawed and ordinary human, you may be taking the whole thing too far.
Speaking of taking the whole thing too far, if your goal is to appear trustworthy and employable, don’t steal others’ good stories from somewhere else on the internet, then try to pass them off on LinkedIn as your own.
Heat Source
To get a “Like” requires very little effort beyond your followers’ desire to make sure you feel “seen” and validated. I could click “Like” all day, just to make you feel good about yourself. This is where a little pot-stirring can come in handy. In today’s powder-keg of social media, you probably don’t want to ask “Why isn’t cannibalism a good idea for population control?” Asking whether it’s okay to put pineapples or anchovies on pizza is about the right amount of heat. If you want to stand out from the crowd, don’t be an ordinary troll.
Oxygen
In all seriousness, the unethical social media “influencers” and wannabe “influencers” out there rival the number of zombies it would take to equal an “apocalypse.” Avoid giving them oxygen – also known as “attention.” It’s harder than you think. For years, we’ve been told “don’t feed the trolls.” We are still feeding the trolls. But next time you’re really tempted to share something from someone you don’t know, personally, stop and think, “Do I really want to do this? What are they gaining from it? Do I want to give them that?”
I’m not going to share the original links that prompted me to write the following posts on LinkedIn, but with very little effort, you could find them. And there are countless more examples – these are but two drops in a sea of superficiality and nonsense.
Nobody wants to end up as a bad example posted to Reddit’s r/LinkedInLunatics. And if someone asks you if you used ShlinkedIn, maybe you should scrub all your social media and rethink your life.
Chain Reaction
You are the chemical chain reaction. Each time you share, you fuel the fire and fan the flames. Before you do that, here are a few things to think about:
- Does the headline match the content or is it just “click bait” that will set a reader up for disappointment?
- If the thing you’re sharing is a news article, is it grounded in fact? Is it written by an ethical journalist or published by a reputable, reasonably-unbiased media outlet? Are sources cited, so that you can verify for yourself that the original information says what the article claims it says? Have you ever done that – checked the original sources to see if they say what it’s claimed they say?In 2008, a friend forwarded the email (shown on a blue background, dated Jan 6, 2008, though there were earlier versions of it as well) to me and asked me if it could be true. The original email contained a live link to snopes.com – where snopes is mentioned. Click the blue text – sure enough, there’s an article on snopes debunking the email itself. It was at this point I started paying closer attention to politics and political parties, and realized just how much seething hostility and lies lurked under the surface. None of this serves us, the people of this nation – or the world. None of it.
- If what you’re sharing is an opinion piece, is it clearly presented as such, and is the bias clearly understood by all? Do you agree with the content of the opinion piece you’re sharing, or do you just think it’s a funny, catchy headline that sums up a thought you had – until you thought more deeply on the subject? Read A Pillow Full of Feathers before sharing.
Good things to share include:
- A story about yourself, that’s true. Be sure to include details and avoid all temptation to exaggerate the heroic bits, unless someone else is the hero and you are thanking them.
- A story about someone you know personally, provided you were involved in the action or have their permission to tell the story where you intend to share it.
- Artwork posted by an artist-friend, which they shared online and which has sharing buttons you can use – to promote them and their art. (In other words, share – don’t download, then upload a copy of their art to your post!)
- Stories, poems, and blog posts written by your friends, which they shared online and which have sharing buttons you can use – to promote them and their writing. (In other words, share – don’t copy and paste their words into a new post of your own.)
- Links to books friends have had published, so that people can find out more and buy them.
- A funny meme found on a site full of funny memes, or a photo found on a free stock photo site – shared in accordance with their Terms of Service.
- A thought-provoking question and discussion of a topic that interests you.
- A poll you made.
- A compliment or expression of thanks to someone.
- A funny cat video (again, of your own cat – or use the proper sharing buttons!)
This is just the tip of the iceberg of social media awfulness and how to avoid igniting the trashpile and feeding the flames. Let’s all resolve to do better in 2022, lest we contribute to the downfall of civilization.
Any more tips you’d like to share? Please, add them in the comments!
by Holly Jahangiri | Nov 4, 2021
Locked Out – But Not in Facebook Jail
It happens. You forget your Facebook password – you haven’t had to enter it in six years, but you got a new PC or mobile phone and suddenly you’re being asked for that ancient password. Do they think you’re Sherlock Holmes, with a vault marked “Passwords” somewhere in your Mind Palace?
You admit that you’ve forgotten it and you request a reset. You wait, eager for the email containing the magic link. Then, you remember that the email you used ten years ago is defunct and you refused to give up a modicum of privacy to give Facebook a valid phone number that’s already listed in six online people finder sites.
If you had set up dual authentication or had a set of recovery codes printed and locked up in an actual filing cabinet, you’d be fine. But now Facebook is telling you that it won’t let you in without three forms of government ID, a utility bill, your last rent or mortgage statement, and a DNA sample. Don’t bother. It’s a black hole into which all your proof of ID falls – and nothing happens. This is where you compromise your privacy and proof of ID for no return whatsoSay good-bye to the last decade of your Facebook life, including any Groups or Pages you own, unless you had a trusted Admin who can give you Admin privileges and reassign ownership to you.
At this point, Facebook helpfully suggests you open a new account.
STOP! It’s a trap. Oh, it’s fine to open a new account, but there are a few things you need to do before sending your first Friend Request.
First, open that account. Choose a “friendly name” (if Facebook lets you) that resembles your actual name (without any spelling errors) or your high school nickname if it’s not too humiliating.
Add a new Profile picture that is different from your old one. Ideally, use a recent headshot that shows the real, recognizable you. It wouldn’t hurt to hold up a copy of today’s newspaper with the date prominently shown in the photo. Why? Because cloned accounts often steal public photos that you’ve posted in the past, and your Profile pic is usually public.
Add a cover image. This photo should show your personality, but should neither be too close to your core identity or too generic. OK – generic is fine, here. Use your own camera to take a photo of the wood grain on your desk. Include any identifying coffee rings and unique tchotchkes; you can use different photos at other angles to prove you are you, later.
IMPORTANT: Avoid using any of the following: patriotic images, treacly “inspirational” photos/quotations, military images, pictures of guns, images showing conspicuous wealth, religious images, children, winsome family pets, or free stock images. Why? These are used by and sought after by imposters. Get into the habit of assuming a few things that may or may not be true:
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- “Military man” in officer’s uniform with numorous decorations on his chesticles: Probably seeks connection with people who have relatives in the military. Looks for flags, eagles, military logos, photos of folks in uniform. Remember: Loose lips sink ships! Try a reverse image search. Play “Who’s that Admiral?”
- “Military man” in fatigues, blowing shit up: See above, only now you can assume that they’ve assumed your military connections are all enlisted, not officers. Or that you love men who blow shit up and have ready access to lots and lots of firepower. “Hey, ‘bro – wanna hang out at the gun range, some time? I just need to move $900,000,000 and travel to wherever you are, first. Where are you?”
- “Single/divorced/widowed man with sad eyes, holding small child or puppy on lap”: Ordinary phisher. Appeals to loneliness and kindness. Poor, tragic soul. Probably a teenager overseas, using his one hour at the local internet cafe to try and score a few hundred bucks from idiots in the USA. Real romantic prospects don’t cold DM anyone with “Hey, beautiful” or “what u up to babeeee”.
- “Man holding cocktail in/in front of his private yacht/jet/exclusive resort, inviting you to join him with his bedroom eyes”: Oh, please. This is the gold digger version of the previous type. They just think you’ll be more likely to bite if you think his prospects of paying you back with exorbitant interest, later, are better. The guy can transfer his own money out of the country on his boat or plane, unless it’s drug money. If it’s drug money, you don’t want any part of that.
- “Girl taking selfies of her impossibly round ass or boobs in a truck stop bathroom mirror”: Do you men get any variety at all? Do they even try? I get one of these women about every 12th attempt. I didn’t fall for “sad, rich single dad on a yacht”? Maybe I’m a lesbian. Send truck stop girl. I figure they’ll just keep baiting the hook with different worms to see if I’ll ever bite. I am a little insulted that no one has sent me a “Professor buried under a mountain of books in the university library archives” yet.
Seriously, no man or woman worth spit cold DMs a stranger with “Hey beautiful” or “ur pic make me so [adjective] I wan to [obscene verb] you.” But apparently, the flattery and the appeal to empathy/pity/abject horniness work all too well or they’d have given it up a decade ago. So just try not to bait the hook if this isn’t the kind of fish you want to catch.
Do all of the things outlined in this post: So You’re NOT Leaving Facebook? Do not even post on your Facebook wall before taking care of your account settings!
Post one explanatory post on your wall: Why did you start a new Facebook account? Be honest here. Did you forget your password? Were you locked out? Was your old account hacked? (Be sure you understand the difference between “hacked” – taken over by someone else, who can log into the original account, post to it, etc. – and “cloned” – where someone steals your public data and creates a whole NEW account (like you just did, here) to impersonate you. There’s a big difference.) Do not start sending out Facebook Friend Requests just yet!
Find 5-10 real life family members or friends who are known to your other friends and known to be “social media wary.” In other words, the sort that would never accept a Friend Request on the strength of “Mutual Friends” alone. Ask them to post on your wall first, explaining why you opened a new account and asking other relatives and friends to contact them if they have any doubts or questions. Make sure that these people know what’s going on.
Wait 24 to 72 hours. Allow others to send you Friend Requests, but do not start sending them out to all your former connections. Talk to people you know. Go ahead and post to your Profile, and the more you sound like yourself, the better.
Slowly start sending Friend Requests. Start with people you know best, and work outwards towards acquaintances. ENCOURAGE “Mutual Friends” to check with one another before accepting any Friend Requests.
Locked Out – In Facebook Jail
Wait it out. Seriously, just wait it out. Appeal your sentence. Rattle your virtual tin cup against the jail cell bars. Sing loudly and off key. Blog – now is a great time to start your own blog and focus on building a website that you control, rather than donating free content to the Mark Zuckerberg Empire. Think about why you need – IF you need – Facebook at all.
Try
https://www.facebook.com/help/contact/801409666590556
Notice that question about AdSense, on the form? Odds are, if you aren’t a Business User, you’ll be met with resounding silence. Facebook Support is not there to help you. It’s barely there to help people who earn it revenue. You’re the product, not the customer. Abandon hope.
Whatever you do, though, do not get scammed into paying a third party “provider” to help you hack your way back into your own account on Facebook. There are thousands of those. As one friend of mine said, recently, “Where there is prey, there are predators.” Just tweet “I’m locked out of my Facebook account” on Twitter, and you’ll see. Just say “no.” Because whatever they’re proposing to do to “help” you will get you in (more) trouble for violating Facebook’s Terms of Service, and will just cost you money. Money that would be better spent on building your own website where you can complain at length about Facebook – or, better yet, ignore Facebook completely, right?
