Non Sequitur #2: The Lost Column

I wrote this some time ago for The Plainsman, but it some how never made it to the Web site. Rather than post it there now, I'll share it with you: the few, the proud, the potentially non-existent audience I write for. (To the three to seven of you who read this, thank you.)

For the love of Farmville

I love my e-farm.

Honestly, I’m only about two generations removed from an agrarian family history, so my interest in tilling online dirt on Farmville is some inborn trait manifesting itself because I can’t actually muster the ability to grow real plants.

Farmville makes me have psychological meltdowns. A game on a social networking site shouldn’t be allowed to do that to me.

Then, I see articles in the New York Times and other publications on how people are planning their lives around Farmville, and I think not “Wow, are those people nutjobs?” but “Huh, maybe I can find some tips.”

This scares me.

I openly discuss my love for my e-crops.

I gladly wander onto neighboring farms to fertilize seedlings for them and scare away the odd raccoon or two.

Considering the general public’s backlash about clogging up news feeds with adverts, I will occasionally post adoption notices to my wall when I come across the odd pink cow or inexplicable turtle.

(Sidebar: If anyone can explain to me why elephants somehow produce circus peanuts, please e-mail me. Also, who pays 86 coins to you for brushing a cat?)

I like Farmville now, but I worry about what can happen to a game when it gets noteworthy popularity.

Will real world agribusiness problems start to pop up within that realm?

Will there be a push to allow users to grow medicinal marijuana in states that have legalized that practice?

Can users be allowed to have their farms go organic, being offered more coins for choosing to be safer?

Will there be a Farmville EPA to swoop in for possible contaminations for having too many animals in a pen or having cows too close to the soybean crop?

Where are all of these coins coming from? Are we selling them to some sort of invisible consumer or are we getting government subsidies?

Should I grow e-corn so I can get an online ethanol kickback to buy some Internet carbon credits from Al Gore’s Interweb?

For that matter, why are we being paid in coins? I thought that sort of thing went out with the freeing of the Serfs. I mean, I don’t want to throw around the word “sharecropping,” but … it makes you wonder.

If we’re allowed to join forces with other farmers, could we soon form large agribusiness conglomerates (or, hippy-dippy communes … I suppose)?

Could we lobby our Farmville designers to put higher tariffs on Farmville crops coming in from overseas?

Of course, if tariffs are raised, we could see a vast amount of e-migration to get IP addresses on this side of the border. Get ready for some angry letters, Facebook.

Now that Facebook is popping up with memorial pages, I’d like to have an e-will put on the record on how to divvy up my farm after the Farmville government takes out the estate tax.

(For that matter, in the event of my untimely demise, anyone who attempts to create a memorial page on Facebook and anyone who would write on the wall of said page will be haunted by me for the rest of their natural days. You’ve been warned, readers.)

Are these legitimate concerns? No, probably not at all.

I’m well-established in the community for being slightly insane, so take that into account.

But, all of this is what comes into my head every time my online flannel-clad self harvests soybeans.

Well, that and how to taint those virtual soybeans to further my hatred for all things vegan. (Vegans, you’ve been warned, too.)

Non Sequitur #1

Rather than bog this thing down entirely with "Cliff Rules," we'll split things up a bit with a few non sequiturs.

From "Stranger than Fiction":

"As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be OK.

Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies.

And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction.

And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives.

I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true."

Think on that one, dear readers.

Cliff Rule #45

Spurred by a conversation by my friend Ben earlier, I decided that Rule #45, albeit one of my crazier rules, was worth dedicating a posting to.

Ben, by the way, is the author over at The Pigskin Pathos. It's a great blog (It makes me want to read about sports ... You know how rare that is), and it was partially Ben's stalwart influence that gave me the idea to start a blog of my own. I thank you, sir.

Cliff Rule #45: Lyrics from musicals can be cited as precedent. It is also acceptable to quote musicals as long as you are not discovered.

I've always been enamored with musicals. Perhaps I live in a fantasy, but I like to see a reality where it's socially acceptable to burst into song with little to no provocation.

In the world of musicals, farmers and cowmen sing about disagreements, teens in Baltimore dance their way through civil rights, and street gangs all seem to have three years of jazz tap.

Fact: Dancing street gangs are the scariest.

Sure, singing about one's troubling issues does seem a bit disturbing, but it is any worse than how we do it in real life?

You look at the musicals of Stephen Sondheim and find a treasure trove of helpful hints for how to deal with life.

"Company" shows us the isolation found in modernity and that "alone" is not "alive." For someone like me who is surrounded by married friends and well-meaning Yente, the message of "Company" really seems to hit home.

Sondheim writes the thinking man's musical, but there is useful life advice to be taken from even the campiest of musicals.

"Damn Yankees" preaches that "You gotta have heart."

"The Music Man" shows us the problems of having our expectations set too high for a potential mate, as we know Marian the Librarian may have trouble finding that mix of "Paul Bunyan, St. Pat, and Noah Webster (she's) concocted for herself out her Irish imagination, her Iowa stubbornness, and her library full of books."

"Cats" ... I can't defend. Have Sir Lloyd Webber try to rationalize that one. I can't.

Control the cat population ... shoot Andrew Lloyd Webber.

On an almost daily basis, I use musical lyrics to emphasize a point or rationalize a strange view or belief. If you've known me for longer than a month, I can guarantee I've done this to you without you even having realized it. (Fact: I'm always pleasantly surprised when people do call me out on this. I'm also quite impressed with their musical theatre knowledge.)

So, if I start speaking in verse, assume Bock and Harnick, not Swift or Pope. It might be superficial or shallow thinking, but sometimes Comden and Green say it better than the Bard, or at least make it more relatable.

Even if you hate musicals, give them a try. Open your heart a little and you might be surprised to find that you, too, enjoy a world where life's problems can be wrapped up by the end of a song.

Find the songs in your day. Use music to embolden you or give you a sense of purpose.

Life's always interesting when it's done in song.

A Beginning

Starting a blog might be a horrible idea. Lord knows I already have to write enough for the two papers I'm blessed to have a job at, but somehow ... I still want to do this. We'll see if this fever lasts.

I don't really know what sort of blog this is going to be yet, but I can guess it will probably be haphazardly placed observations about almost anything under the sun.

In that spirit, our first topic: Oprah.

I've always been an unashamed fan of Ms. Winfrey, even if she does occasionally feel the need to talk about her "va-jay-jay" on national television. Really, I'm reluctant to say anything negative about her because she could buy and sell me 100 times over and still have millions.

What I really love about Oprah is not her talk show, XM radio station, or magazine ... it's her role as Sofia in the Academy Award-winning "The Color Purple." The "You told Harpo to beat me" scene ranks comfortably ensconced at No. 3 in my all-time favorite movie scenes.

I watch that movie every MLK Day to celebrate self-help. If "The Color Purple" teaches us anything, it's that perseverance and tenacity pay off.

Learn to fight back like Sofia does. You may end up in indentured servitude to Dana Ivey for a while and have the crazy beaten into you, but you make a noise.

We could all stand to be a bit more like Sofia ... or Oprah herself. Let's not forget she's the woman who single handedly took on the cattle industry and took them down, not to mention the kerfuffle with Hermes. The Big O's not afraid of scrapping, so we shouldn't be either.

Life's too short not to fight for what you truly believe in, to protect and defend whatever small amount of happiness and life you've managed to carve out for yourself.

Cliff Rule #32: Learn how to fight back. Oprah calls that empowerment.