Is this a New Version of Spam?

Tags

Fake Reblogging, Reblogging, Spam, writers, writing

Yeah it is easy . . . for a “fake blogger.”(Photo credit: digitalrob70)

Has this happened to you?  A dozen or so of my posts were recently (in the last month or so) reblogged by different bloggers. I though, “How nice. Someone liked what I wrote enough to put it on their blog.”

As the conscientious and polite blogger that I am, I promptly went over to thank my fellow blogger.

What did I find when I traveled over to their blogs? A shell. Nothing but a handful of reblogged posts, no comments, or “About” page. The first few times I didn’t think much of it. I figured it was someone starting out and they weren’t sure how to go about it and thought, “Here’s an idea . . . I’ll use other people’s stuff til I get the hang of this world-o-blogging.” After the next few times I was suspicious. Then I figured there is a room filled with “fake bloggers” trying to take over the world, one blog repost at a time.

It happened again today.

Several bloggers reblogged some of my posts, so I know what a real-reblog looks like.

I’ll ask again. Has this happened to you? Is this a new version of spam designed to play evil tricks on the ego of we bloggers? My “real” spam has slowed to a trickle.

Strong vs Weak Words ~ Part 35 ~ Pleonasm and Tautology

Tags

Pleonasm, Strong vs Weak Words, Strong Words, Tautology, Tautology vs Pleonasm, Weak Words, writers, writing

I owe you an apology.  I made a mistake.

I can hear you all gasping in horror. “What? The Maven of Strong vs Weak Words made an error? That can’t be! My world is shaken.”

Sadly, it is true.

I’ve called phrases like “rate of speed” and “at this moment in time” tautologies. Wrong-O. They are examples of pleonasm, or where more words than necessary are used to convey an idea.

Your car can:

“Travel at a rate of speed of 50-miles-per hour. 

~ Or ~

“Travel at a speed of 50-miles-per-hour.”

~ Or better yet ~

“Travel at 50-miles-per hour.”

A tautology, on the other hand, is using a series of words that mean the same thing. For example, “tiny little spider” or “big huge spider.” If a spider is tiny, can it be anything other than little?

See the difference?

For the record, I dislike tiny little and big huge spiders. Not crazy about mid-sized medium spiders either.

The lines of distinction are blurry at times because both pleonasm and tautology refer to redundancy. But let’s not split hairs here.  Think of Mr. Pleo as using too many words to introduce or transition an idea, and Mr. Taut as repeating, reiterating, and restating yourself.  (My kids accuse me of being Mrs. Taut.)

Mr. Wick E. Pedia (a good friend of Mr. Pleo and Mr. Taut) pointed me to this quote when I educated myself on the subject at hand.

“At the risk of being redundant and repetitive, and redundant, let me say that tautology is the last thing children need from their parents, especially when they are in trouble.”

~ Tom Sturges, Parking Lot Rules & 75 Other Ideas for Raising Amazing Children

Tommy-boy knows what he is talking about.

A parent shouldn’t say, “You stupid, idiotic, and daft child. Why did you waste time reading Robin’s pointless, inane, and moronic blog when you could have watched Dancing with the Stars? (Tautology for those of you I lost.)

If a parent were to scold using pleonasms, it would sound like this. “In my personal opinion, it is a true fact that the amount of time you spend on Robin’s blog is a waste of time.

What does this all boil down to? Don’t use more words than you need to say what you have to say. (Better yet: Don’t use more words than you need.)

 P. S. I will sift through my examples on previous tautology posts and correct my wayward behavior.

Related articles

• Strong vs Weak Words ~ Part 33 ~ Tautologies (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

Strong vs Weak Words ~ Part 34 ~ Tautologies

Tags

editing, editing tips, Strong vs Weak Words, Strong Words, Tautologies, Tautology, Weak Words, writers, writing, Writing Advice

This is the second part of a “This isn’t necessarily a Strong vs Weak Words” post. It is a “Why use redundant words?” post. I can’t wait to see that you have to add. Comment here and I will do a post summarizing your “ack” phrases.

Robin is wise beyond her 25 years-of-age.

Pffft. 25. Ha!

Robin lies about her age. There is no way she is 25-years-old. 

~~~~~

At this point in time, to thank Robin for her wisdom, wit, and wise words, I will send her my first-born-child. 

Rather drastic, don’t you think? 

At this time, Robin is off my Christmas card list.

(Don’t need the “at this time” either.)

~~~~~

I love Robin’s blog, but however, I wish she posted more often. 

Good GAWD. Don’t encourage her! 

I dislike Robin’s blog, however, she hangs on my every word. 

~~~~~ 

Robin celebrated her annual birthday by doing one post for every year of her life.

You know where the delete key is, right? Do you know how many posts that is?

I ignored Robin’s plea for birthday wishes. She needs to take a long walk off a short pier.

~~~~~ 

The reason why I celebrate Robin’s birthday is she means so much to me.

What did you buy Robin? She is hard to please.

The reason I ignore Robin’s birthday is she is needy, needy, needy.

(Don’t need “the reason” either. Add “because” after the word birthday.”)

You know, I’m not “that” emotionally needy. However, all gifts are welcome.

Quick update on my folks . . . Dad is still in the hospital and likely to be there two more weeks. So you don’t have to get out your copy of Gray’s Anatomy (the medical reference book, not your DVD collection of Dr. McDreamy), I’ll keep it simple. He had surgery to remove a blood clot from his chest cavity, a filter was put in his leg to prevent a blood clot from travelling to his heart or brain, and his oxygen concentration is good, even though there is an air leak somewhere.

Mom continues to be mystified by what is going on, but her fears and anxieties eased a bit when he moved out of ICU.

My sincere thanks for the support you blessed me with over the past two weeks. Your concern means a great deal to me, my friends.

My thanks to you . . .

~ Robin

The Endeavor Welcomed Amanda Home

Tags

Space Shuttle Endeavour, writers, writing

Look who welcomed Amanda back to California yesterday!

Our daughter Amanda graduated from Army Basic Training in South Carolina and flew to Los Angeles to then catch a plane to the Defense Language Institute in Monterey where she will be learning Arabic. When she landed in Los Angeles, the space shuttle Endeavor was her runway partner. She shot this photo out the window of the plane.

Wasn’t it nice of NASA to welcome her home?

The space shuttle flew over my husband’s office in Sacramento on its farewell journey. Sacramento area residents packed rooftops, overpasses, and the Capitol Mall to witness the event. Hundreds of thousands turned out for the open-air retirement party.

I’m sorry I didn’t get to see it in person. Spontaneous tears took me by surprise when I watched the Sacramento flyover on the news. I suppose my tears stemmed from a mixture of pride, gratitude to the brave astronauts and their families, and awe of the American engineering ingenuity.

Did the Endeavor fly over your town? Did you see it? Did you watch it on the news? I’m curious . . . how did it make you feel?

P. S. Amanda finished Basic Training, but I have one more of her letters home I will share with you soon.

Our Daughter Entered the Army ~ An Update ~ Part 14

Our daughter Amanda is in Army Basic Training in South Carolina. I have been posting her letters home because the experience and her observations are too good not to share. Her letter from August 19^th is in serial form because it is 14-pages. Ladies in the group, be sure to read to the bottom for some good news. Click here if you want to check out Part 1 and Part 2.

I left you with a cliffhanger last time. Shameless of me, I know.

Part 3 picks up with Saturday.

Letter Ten Dated August 19, 2012 ~ Part 3

Saturday. Oh man, Saturday. What a HUGE day. It started with a 3-mile Ability Group Run (AGR). It was our last AGR before next Saturday’s final physical fitness test, so I went all out. I have to drop 20 seconds to max and I better f**king get that. I’ve been putting my whole heart into these runs.

After that we got all our gear and went to a training site called Urban Assault Course. That was a great part of the day. There were 4 lanes but only two squads from my Platoon could go at a time. The lanes were as follows: grenade obstacle course (not live grenades), an IED and HMMV (High Mobility Military Vehicle?) course, a Medevac lane, and a clearing room. I let other people do most of the lanes because there was only 30 minutes at each lane so not everyone had a chance. All this stuff is so freaking cool to the newbies so I wanted to give them the opportunity. I did the Medevac lane though. That is because I love that stuff and many people are not comfortable with it. You have to do a radio call-in for a Medevac and it is the longest radio report we have to do. I already have that bitch memorized, so I might as well do it. Every lane was fun and we learned a lot. A Bomb Specialist taught the IED lane. We didn’t have much practice time because we kept asking him questions about his job. Super crazy. Those Iraqis and Afghanis have smart sons of bitches on their side too. They are creative in exploding you from a safe distance.

After chow, which I ate in like 30 seconds because I had detail (that is like chores in the Army), we had a 4-mile road march in full kit. Now I know I’ve said we’ve had full-gear road marches already, but those are actually what we call admin walks. I just think road march sounds cooler than admin walk. An admin walk is a short mile or mile and a half walk to the training site. A road march is an actual training event. It wasn’t our longest yet, but it was our first with all our gear so it felt really long.

Road marches are my forte, as you guys know, so I get behind the weak ones and motivate them. I sneak up and down the ranks to get people going if they start to fall out. Sometimes I get caught moving or they hear me cheering on my Platoon members and I get yelled at. I don’t understand why they keep saying we are a team, but then yell when we act like one, and then yell when we don’t act like one. Make up your mind!! Regardless, I’ll be talking to my Platoon members and getting them to step it up. It’s the right thing to do. I’ve been smoked for it already, I’m sure I will again, but that’s just me.

 

Not my idea of a fun activity.

So after 4 miles, we got to our destination called NIC. I don’t remember what NIC stands for. I’ll draw you a picture and try to explain it to make it sound as cool and intense as it is.

The objective of NIC is to use crawling tactics to get from a trench on one end, to the finish 150 meters away, in the dark, with live fire overhead. There were three towers on each side of the course with live machine gun fire. Plus, they had stuff to make other stuff explode. We crawled in the sand from the trench to the finish with absolutely no standing or kneeling. You can’t even put your hand in the air for help. One person stood up. Idiot. One person got caught behind an obstacle and couldn’t figure out how to crawl around it. Another was a Heat Cat. She didn’t drink enough water. You always have to be drinking water here. Like always. You will notice immediately if you didn’t drink enough.

We had 30 minutes to complete the course. In the beginning, I was flying and thinking, “How cool is this?!” It felt like the movie. I could see fire and stuff go “BOOM,” and muzzle flashes out of the corner of my eye. But by the time I was halfway, I was smoked. The cadre watched us through Night Vision Goggles, so they knew who was f**king up. “Don’t stop!” Oh, man. There were three kinds of crawls: high crawl, low crawl, and on your back. Sand gets into every single spot. My knees and elbows are rubbed raw. Eventually, it was like crawling on sandpaper. Thanks to Madre, I have stuff to take care of my “owies.” It was intense.

When we were finished, a crazy-ass thunderstorm rolled in. It was some of the best lightning we’ve had. We had to sit in a lightning protection area and it poured down on us. It felt great and miserable at the same time. The rain cooled us down, but also made the sand covering us wet and it scratched even more.

We got back to Bay around midnight. Imagine the kind of shit I had to put up with when I made the fireguard roster. Everyone feels so sorry for themself. I got cussed at and people slammed lockers. I kept thinking . . . we’re not the first to do this and we have it significantly easier than the people deployed. Just shut up, man up, and act like the mother f**king soldier you are trying to be.

When you are on fireguard, it is your job to clean the bay. It is shitty, but necessary. Plus, it helps you stay awake at that hour and makes the time go faster. We were all so sandy that sand was everywhere. You could have built a kick-ass sandcastle if you wanted. No exaggeration. In the morning, hardly anything had changed. I was livid. I always get up a few minutes early to double-check everything so we don’t get in trouble. I told them they would all have fireguard again if it weren’t clean by church. I would never actually do that to them because I know people need to sleep. So, after a lot of bitching and some more arguments and attitudes, the Bay was clean. I am awesome.

So that was last week. This week will be just as crazy.

Miss you guys!

XOXO Amanda

P.S. We got our razors this week too! I’m no longer a gorilla!

Parenting our Parents ~ Part 2 ~ So this is what feels like to die.

Tags

Alzheimer's disease, parenting our parents, writers, writing

Oh man. What a week and a half.

For those of you following along, you know what I mean. For those of you who don’t know, click here.

First of all, my sincere and tear-stained thanks to all of you who commented on my blog post about my 89-year-old dad going into the hospital. I will answer all of your comments soon.

I am sorry I haven’t been around to visit you. My time lately has been spent sitting bedside in ICU with my Dad. Writing and reading blogs was suddenly not important. Dad’s health was the concern. The past week was like a riding a roller coaster going 100 miles an hour at a standstill.

Mom and Dad have been married for 66 years and have know each other since sophomore year of high school. Look how cute and in love they look after all these years. This photo was from one year ago.

Dad’s early diagnosis of congestive heart failure was incorrect. He developed pneumonia, both lungs collapsed, and he was ensconced in ICU for 7 days. They inserted chest tubes to drain the blood/fluid from his lungs. He couldn’t feed himself, had a high fever, and he was an all around mess. He is likely to be in the hospital for another week or so.

On one of his bad days, Dad thought to himself,

“So this is what it feels like to die.”

His body is failing, but his mind is sound.

My mom, on the other hand, is of sound body, but her mind is shot.

She has Alzheimer’s Disease. This experience is too much for her to handle. She is lucid at times, bewildered most of the time, and rather nasty to be around all of the time. Her snarky comments to the nurses, doctors, Dad, and me make our blood pressure rise to dangerous levels.

She can’t help it.

My sister is the admissions director of a skilled nursing home in Portland, Oregon. We are hoping Dad can move there after he is discharged from the hospital. Mom can live with my sister or move to the assisted living portion of the nursing home. If not, I will be doing (willingly) every third week in San Jose with my folks. Difficult, but not impossible. As such, I will be in and out with checking on you.

Again, I ask, any words of wisdom for me? I’m fried. I need your help.

Related articles

• Parenting our Parents (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

Parenting our Parents

Tags

Alzheimer's disease, Cardiovascular Disorders, FailureHeart, Heart disease, parenting our parents, writers, writing

I won’t be around the blogosphere much for a while. Don’t know how long.

My dad called yesterday . . .  at 7 am.

As soon as his name popped up on my phone, I knew something was wrong.

Dad never calls that early.

“Robin, I’m in the Emergency Room. I fell.”

 And I got in my car.

Dad fell on Thursday while carrying groceries up the stairs to their house. He landed hard on his right side and the two jugs of milk he was toting exploded. Dad shook it off, bandaged his scraped arms, and took two ibuprofen. At 2 am, the pain in his ribcage was unbearable, and he called 911.  With early-stage Alzheimer’s Mom in tow, Dad went to the Emergency Room in an ambulance.

By the time I arrived at the hospital, Mom had been sitting in a stiff plastic chair by Dad’s side for 10 hours. How awful. When we finally got home tonight (Mom did a full 16 hours by his side in the hospital), she said, “I feel like I’ve been dragged through a knothole backwards.” Talk about showing, not telling.

After a battery of tests, the doctors discovered that while Dad didn’t break anything, he has congestive heart failure and his lungs are filled with fluid. He was admitted into the hospital and the doctors are addressing his heart failure, as well as the excruciating pain in his rib cage.

How lucky I am that I can be here to help.

Dad needs me.

Mom needs me.

And I need to be here.

P.S. For those of you who read my post about Mom’s early Alzheimer’s, I had a wonderful glimpse of my old mom tonight.

Mom and Dad live in a lovely senior community . . . tree–lined streets, manicured flower beds, golf course, etc. She said, “Living here, you can take the dog out for a walk at night and not worry about someone coming after you. Or, you can feel bad that someone ISN’T coming after you!”

Mom! You randy thing you!

Look how cute they are. Their wedding photo.

The Beatles Anthology ~ A Must See

Tags

The Beatles, The Beatles Anthology, writers, writing

This post has nothing to do with Strong Words or Weak Words.

Phew, right?

My summer at-home movie watching. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you are a Beatles fan and haven’t watched The Beatles Anthology, a five DVD chronology of The Beatles’ career, you are missing out big time.

The opening montage in Disc One will make you smile through the tears, and the remaining the DVDs will make your heart sing (and if you are a sap like me, cry a little more).

I watched the series last summer and I started at the beginning again this summer as a lovely way to rest my fried brain after hours of editing my WIP. The videos, reminisces, and photos of our boys makes my heart ache and long for the day when musicians relied on talent, not overblown stage effects, outrageous costumes, and PR agents.

The pure joy John, Paul, George, and Ringo faces is a delight to watch. Their charming smiles are contagious and you know they were having a blast.

The first time around, I watched the first four DVDs in quick succession. I couldn’t bring myself to watch Disc Five for the longest time. If I didn’t watch the disc about the end of their career together, I thought I would stop The Beatles from breaking up. Too late, right?

Hey, you know what? This post has a lot to do with writing.

No one wrote a better line than George, who penned, “Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover.”

Or, John and Paul’s line,  “And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make.”

Ahhh . . . lovely.

And, there are the nonsensical lines like “We all live in a yellow submarine” or ” I am the egg man.”

Huh?

What is your favorite poetic or crazy line from a Beatles song? Oh man. I can’t wait to read your comments.

If you want to say “I love Robin, yeah, yeah, yeah,” that is allowed.

All my lovin’ to you . . .

.

You Say It’s Your Birthday?

Tags

Alzheimer's disease, writers, writing

Photo credit: freakgirl

Today is my birthday and I am sad. Am I thrilled about being another year older? Nope, but as they say, it is better than the alternative. I’m not throwing myself a pity party here.

Why am I sad? No card or gift from my mom. Nothing. Not even a phone call. I don’t care about not getting a gift. I have everything I need.

So you ask again, “Why are you sad, Robin?” I am sad my mom forgot my birthday because she is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s Disease. She has good days and bad days, good moments and bad moments, but she is on a spiral of decline with no eject button.

Her condition is hard on my dad. She cares for herself, makes the bed, walks the dog, etc., but forgets something he told her within minutes. For example, he said, “ We need to leave for the theater now,” and they walked out the door. One minute later when she was seated in the car she said, “Where are we going?”

Mom and Dad have been married 66 years. Dad is a patient soul and loves my mom dearly, but her memory loss is trying. He gets mad at her, and then is mad at himself for losing his patience. My sister gave him the book Living with Alzheimer’s and other Dementias to help him cope and understand why this once spirited woman is a shell of her former self.

Again, I’m not sad Mom forgot my birthday. I’m sad because there isn’t a cure and I am losing my mom.

Why didn’t Dad send a card or call? That is a topic for another pity party.

Any words of wisdom for my family in this new phase of our lives?

Our Daughter Entered the Army ~ An Update ~ Part 13

Tags

Daughter Enters Army, Daughter in the Army, Daughters in the Army, writers, writing

Part 1 of Amanda’s letter dated August 19, 2012 recapped Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The grueling days included a 3-mile Ability Group Run, marching to the Engagement Skills Trainer in “Full Battle Rattle” for shooting practice, Concurrent Training, Muscle Failure Physical Training, Advanced Rifle Marksmanship, shooting at night with Night Vision Goggles, infrared lasers, and close combat optics, grenade throwing, and sleeping on an ant-infested field of sand. Yowza!

Part 2 picks up with Thursday.

Letter Ten Dated August 19, 2012 ~ Part 2

We were allowed to sleep in until 0630 on Thursday and didn’t have to do Physical Training. That sounded like a wonderful surprise until we realized that was because we had combatives. The “warm-up” for combatives takes 45 minutes and exhausts your whole core. There is no way I can describe them in a letter. I’ll have to demonstrate them in person. Then maybe mom can write about these exercises beautifully. 

(Quit guffawing. I didn’t add that last line.)

After combatives we sparred within each Platoon with pads and a pugil stick. It is to imitate bayonet training. We were given foam Q-tip-looking sticks and we hit each other with them. It was so much fun. We were all in a circle and picked people to fight, cheering each other on, and laughing. It was a really cool thing to do after two long days in the field. I lost my round, but only at the end. I didn’t wear my ankle brace like a dumbass so my ankle quit after about a minute and a half of round two. Plus, there is no technique to it. It feels like pillow fighting for a crowd. You just kinda swing and hope something sticks.

(Finally! They had some fun!)

(I thought pugil stick pillow-fighting sounded like fun until I watched that video.)

Friday we went back to the Reception building to get our Dress Blues, or Army Service Uniforms. Reception is where I was when I first got here for in-processing. That place is miserable compared to here. When I arrived at the base I really didn’t notice. I was so fueled with adrenalin, anxiety, and a little cockiness, it didn’t faze me at the time. But the facilities . . . OMG! At Basic Combat Training we are in brand new facilities and they are gorgeous. Thanks to “Don’t ask, don’t tell” being repealed, everyone gets their own shower stall and bathroom stall. There is air-conditioning and enough space to open our wall lockers. OMG, it is fantastic.

At Reception, there is none of that. We were there forever getting our uniforms. So, we were up early, as in 0300, and went to bed around midnight. Oh, we arrived at Reception in time for breakfast. And my God, that was disgusting. Runny eggs, undercooked cold bacon, and hard pancakes.  How I didn’t notice how horrible it was when I was there is beyond me. Our dining facility is awesome by comparison. In fact, I think they plan when we go back to Reception on purpose . . . because it is like just when you’ve had enough chicken and rice to last you a lifetime and you can’t help but hate the dining facility, they take you to Reception and your whole perspective changes. All of a sudden we couldn’t wait for dinner chow’s chicken and rice. Not tonight though!!! Tonight is Sunday and that means hamburgers!!!!

(Simple pleasures.)

If you get kicked out of Basic, you don’t get to go home right away. It takes a long time . . . even if it is injury-related. They send you back to Reception. They say the quickest way to leave is by graduating, so quitting is NOT an option. I can’t imagine being stuck back at Reception for weeks, literally.

To tease you for the next post with Part 3 of her letter, I give you her next two lines . . . 

Saturday. Oh man, Saturday . . .

 

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• Our Daughter Entered the Army ~ An Update ~ Part 6 (robincoyle.wordpress.com)
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Strong vs Weak Words ~ Part 33 ~ Tautologies

Tags

editing, editing tips, Overused Words, Self-editing, Strong vs Weak Words, Strong Words, Weak Words, writers, writing, Writing Advice, writing tips

This isn’t a Strong vs Weak Words post. It is more like a “Why Use so Many Words?” post. We use these expressions every day, but the words are redundant. The writerly term for the phrases is “tautology.”

If it is out of stock, we don’t have it! (Photo credit: quinn.anya)

According to Mr. Wick E. Pedia, a tautology is “using different words to say the same thing, or a series of self-reinforcing statements that cannot be disproved because they depend on the assumption that they are already correct.

Here are seven examples for you. I will share bunches more in future posts, but I can’t wait to see what you have to add. Comment here and I will do a post summarizing your “ack” phrases.

 

It takes a great amount of time to read Robin’s blog.

Why, why, why bother?

It takes time to read Robin’s blog. 

~~~~~

Each and every time I log-on to Robin’s blog, I learn something new. 

Robin Coyle? You are kidding, right?

 When I read Robin’s blog, I want to tear out my hair. 

~~~~~

It is a true fact Robin knows what she is talking about.

Amen, sister!

Robin doesn’t know what she is talking about.

~~~~~

The one and only blog I read is Robin’s.

Again, why waste your time?

One blog I avoid is Robin’s incessant blah, blah, blah, barf. 

~~~~~ 

Robin wore a dress green in color to her award ceremony.

She looks good in green. Matches her skin. 

Robin’s green dress was a fashion mistake. 

~~~~~ 

Robin approached the stage to accept her Pulitzer at a great rate of speed.

Is the nomination committee on drugs? 

Robin’s speed as she took the stage took out an old lady.

~~~~~

In my personal opinion, Robin is the best blogger on the planet. 

Are you on drugs?

My opinion? Robin can’t write her way out of a paper bag.

Is there any other kind of access? (Photo credit: mikecogh)