House Rules

This is not your blog, and contrary to an especially ridiculous idea that seems prevalent today, you do not have the “right” to post here or anywhere else, except on your own pages. Someone is paying for every page on the Web, with various combinations of money and effort.
We are the ones with the rights.

The First Amendment of the United States Constitution protects freedom of religion and freedom of expression from government interference. (If you’d bother to learn something about your country instead of watching the Fox Network, you’d know that.) I am not a government,
so I’ll interfere any time I feel like it.

I am ready and willing to delete, or reply in kind, to name-calling, cursing, or general disrespect toward me or others. This is especially true of ethnic and gender slurs. Our opinions about those may vary, but — like art — I know it when I see it. The same goes for comments that are not
germane to the post or comment thread.

I prefer that people be willing to take responsibility for their views, so anonymous is a short route to comment hell if you don’t mind your manners.

I treat this blog as I treat my living room and, as is true of my living room, if you come here and act like an ass, you’re out the door. On the other hand, as in my living room, I get to be an asshole if I feel like it — and I often do.

If you choose to leave comments and I find them amusing, informative, entertaining, egregiously stupid or ignorant, off-topic, ill-considered, fail to agree with them, or if any number of other conditions apply, you may expect a response (if I bother) ranging from applause, to belittling your mental powers and education, to detailed discussions of your probable ancestry. But here’s the catch: you don’t get to respond to my response. You’re stuck with whatever you wrote, and however I choose to answer. See, I don’t like arguments, I just like having the last word — and it’s my blog.

So think things over carefully before you post them, because when it comes to snotty, unpleasant remarks, you’re probably not even in the same county as me, let alone the same ballpark. You’ve been warned.

The Galloping Curmudgeon

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Next Time You're In Reykjavik

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