Blogiversary 15

If there’s one thing you can be sure of, as a writer, it is, after having written, the feeling that what you just wrote pretty much completely sucks. It is the anticipation of that feeling that serves as one of the primary deterrents to starting anything in the first place. I mean, who wants to go through all that effort just to disappoint yourself?

But I woke up today realizing it was my “blogiversary” (for lack of a better word—seriously, is there a better word?), and a big one, at that. Fifteen years ago, after much urging, and more frustration, I joined the madding crowd, and, though I didn’t realize it at the time, began one of my bigger life transitions—from god-knows-what I was, to journalist.

For the last half of these last 15 years, I haven’t done much actual blogging, feeling that, as I have often commented, the web is now lousy with hot takes. But I still defend the blog as a valid journalistic format, and, as much as I want to spend most of my time deep diving into dark waters, I still often miss the low-stakes thrill of an almost daily shout into the void.

Since I last posted at this place (or this place, or this place), I have had gigs at slightly more trafficked websites and magazines, and I have written a thing or two or three or four hundred. (Maybe I’ll post a few links.) And now, taking stock after a year that is pretty much defined by taking stock, I have decided that there is maybe a second thing writers can be sure of: after the certain initial disappointment, there is the Dorothy Parker-ian sense of satisfaction, and the conclusion, five, or 10, or 15 years later that maybe all of that work didn’t suck quite so completely after all.

I won’t toast to the next 15 years (like, crap, 15 years is a long fuckin’ time), but, in the grand tradition of my original blog (“a journal of politics, popular culture, and mixed drinks”), I will toast. And, in the tradition of previous blogiversaries, I will offer a cocktail recipe—this time one I crafted myself for drinking during those agonizing presidential debates. Cheers? Cheers!

The Black Helicopter

1 ½ oz Dark Rum
½ oz Rhum Agricole
1 ½ oz Amaro Nonino
1 ½ oz Aperol
1 oz lime juice

Mix all ingredients in a beaker, stir with ice, and strain into double old fashioned glasses each containing one large-format ice cube. Garnish with a lime twist.

Makes two.

Oh, yes—some of the last seven years… 

7 Years on, Sailors Exposed to Fukushima Radiation Seek Their Day in Court

Pilgrim’s Progress: Inside the American Nuclear-Waste Crisis

Key safety system not installed at site of deadly Amtrak derailment

Older safety technology could have prevented Amtrak tragedy

The Amtrak Tragedy Has Roots in the Swamp

Amtrak crash: state-of-the art safety gear was operational at time of fatal collision

States Are Using Taxpayer Money to Greenwash Dirty Nuclear Power 

Psychologists worked with CIA, Bush administration to justify torture

New ‘bomb train’ rules welcomed with a bang

a moving experience

It's my blogaversary! My sixth, to be exact. Six elegant, swellegant years of blogging, writing and/or editing what we now like to call "online journalism" (actually, I like to call it the "New New (new?) Journalism").

But, you might ask, where have you been lately--and well you might. Well, after two-and-a-half years in the editor's chair at Firedoglake, I am back writing more regularly--but I have consolidated my work at capitoilette (the new capitoilette.com).

Follow me there, and follow me on Twitter here. And also look for some of my posts on Truthout.

And in honor of this sleepy journal of politics, popular culture and mixed drinks, one more mixed drink for the sixth anniversary: The After Six Cocktail.

1 part Cream Liqueur
1 part Kahlúa
1 part White Crème de Menthe

Add all ingredients into a chilled shot glass and serve.

Yes, it sounds disgusting to me, too. Better drink it fast, then zip on over to my new home to work it off.

(photo: Leo Reynolds)

three is a magic number

Oh. My. God. Three simple words to celebrate the completion of my third year of words—that’s right, guy2k is three today!

Another year, another 300-plus posts, trips to Netroots Nation in Austin and the Democratic National Convention in Denver, and, to top it all off, my jump to the editor’s chair at Firedoglake just three—no, make that four—weeks ago. Quite the magical year. . . as personal/political blogger years go.

My only regret (OK, it is doubtful that this is my only regret, but it is the one to which I will limit myself today) is that since joining forces with FDL, I have neglected this little place where it all began. The editorial workload has surprised me a tad, so I have not found the rhythm that allows me to both do my new job and bang out posts that meet my absurdly strict standards. If I have a new year’s resolution, it would be to write more.

But, this month, alas, not so much. What started as “a journal of politics, popular culture and mixed drinks” has delivered precious little on all three fronts. . . until now.

In honor of my third anniversary, my move to Firedoglake, and my annual obligation to include at least one topical cocktail a year, I present to you the Flaming Fireman:

2 oz Goldschlager
2 oz 151 proof rum
2 oz triple sec

Three simple ingredients. Mix. Set aflame. Slam. Enjoy (or so I’m told).

Thank you all for making me part of your 2008. Here’s to a triple-good 2009.

‘2k turns 2!

My word! Or, should I say, my 10,000 words (give or take). guy2k was born on this day in 2005, and after two years and nearly 800 posts (between here and my other blog, capitoilette), it is still hard for me to believe that I have a blog. . . and even harder to say to folks that I’m a blogger.

Like last year, I have this feeling that I should be greeting the next year with a selection of links to my favorite posts from the last twelve months, but, like last year, I will have to disappoint myself (and maybe you?). I am just getting back from New Hampshire after a weekend of volunteering for John Edwards (more on that later), so there was just no time for such a self-indulgent trip down memory lane (or such a shameless attempt to generate more hits).

So, before this anniversary day ticks away, let me, as I did last year, wish all of you a healthy, happy, and peaceful new year filled with progressive politics, enjoyable popular culture, and tasty mixed drinks.

Now, without further ado, year three!

—“guy”