There are a lot of controversies here on DKos lately. Some I've taken sides in, some I've not. These controversies come about for different reasons. However, every single one of them has one thing in common: that tyrannical overblown very small list of diaries known as the Rec List. It's the absolute worst thing that DKos has going. I am writing this diary to make that case.

I am an infrequent diarist. I've only made the rec list once myself, but considering how few diaries I've written in my 5 years here, it's probably a good ratio :). But this isn't at all sour grapes. As I said, I diary too infrequently to care. And, as I've said before, in my other internet activity, erotica, I'm on a sort of rec list, all the time. And I'm going to talk about that a bit, to make a comparison.

Over the flip....

August 19th: Today, the Wa$ington Po$t quoted some anonymous source that was probably either 1) a paid shill, or 2) made up. Nevertheless, the army of twelve year olds over at the once influential blog DKos, had a temper tantrum.

To illustrate my point before I get into specifics of how this question is the true question here at DKos, let me offer an anecdote.

When I was younger, I was a whiz with math; and by "whiz" I mean it was completely instinctual. This caused me a problem with some teachers, who demanded that I "show my work". I couldn't. Not only did I go from step 1 to step 5 instinctively, I had no idea what steps 2, 3, and 4 were. I got the right answer, but I couldn't show you how. My 9th and 10th grade geometry/trigonometry teacher told me, "Frank, if you don't learn how to walk through the steps, you will get absolutely annihilated in Calculus."

You know what? He was right. I never learned the steps, and I barely passed Calculus with a D. 11 years of A's in math, gone in one year.

Over the years, this has given me a great respect for people with a "method to their madness", because it's something I had to learn. It doesn't come naturally to me. (Even in my fiction writing, which I'm damn good at, I have to force myself to do an outline :)). I have great respect for people who have a natural ease with the process.

Barack Obama is one of those people.

Over the jump...

Yeah, you're sick of 'em. I have no sympathy: I work in retail!

Even with that, I love Christmas Carols. Although many of the ones I particularly like aren't played regularly at the Big Pharmacy Emporium where I work. So, in a departure from all the usual crap around here, I decided to write about my favorite Christmas Carols...and a few of my least favorites. Over the flip....

Since I'm a future teacher, I figure I could get some practice in.

Because it's come to my attention that we have a big problem here at Daily Kos. I've been going through some of the diaries, and you people are just not cutting it.

I mean, didn't you read the FAQ?

It says right in there: at least 500 words, typed, double spaced. Come on, people! Daily Kos is The Big Time! You're wasting all of our time (since we're all forced to be here and all) putting out silly little diaries!

A special welcome to anyone who is new to The Grieving Room.  We meet every Monday evening.  Whether your loss is recent or many years ago, whether you have lost a person or a pet, or even if the person you are "mourning" is still alive ("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time) you can come to this diary and process your grieving in whatever way works for you.  Share whatever you need to share.  We can't solve each other's problems, but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.

Note: this is being published early, and I will not be around for comments right away; unfortunately, I have to go to work. I will gladly check comments and respond when I get home from work at about 2 am Eastern.

That having been said, it's time to meet Patrick.

This diary comes from a comment I made earlier.

I'd waded into one of the arguments. You know them, they've been all over the site today. It starts with, "I love watching those Wall Street Fat Cats choke on their own bile!" followed by, "Well, yes, but are you going to rebuild my father's tanked pension?" and so on.

The front page has told us that this bill got derailed due to mass phone calls from constituents urging their reps to vote no. It was a populist uprising not seen in this country for decades. The only problem is, it's a false populism, it's not sustainable, and it may very well be wrong headed in the extreme.

Hi. I'm Church of Bruce, and I'm a narcissist. I post on blogs for many reasons, but the first one is that I enjoy the sound of my own voice. However, that goes for you, too. And that's the problem in a nutshell.

The problem is not "short" diaries, or crappy diaries. (I'm leaving trolls out of this, because that is a legit beef). The problem is short crappy diaries written by the wrong people. Who are the wrong people? First, anyone that isn't me. Second, anyone that isn't a "name". Community moderation only works if the community hasn't completely gone off the rails...and this one has.

It's not that McCain picked a woman hoping that the PUMAs will flock to his banner. Yeah, all 12 of them. Who cares. That's not the issue.

It's that he picked the female (and pretty, which counts) version of Huckabee.

I was scared of Huckabee as veep because I was afraid that picking him would fire up the thus far lukewarm Fundies. Remember, Rove has always claimed that the reason Bush won in 2004 was because the Repubs went hard to draw out Fundies that hadn't voted.

The fight against cancer is something that's near and dear to my heart, and those of people in my family. Two members of my family are doing something about it.

Tomorrow, here on Massachusetts' lovely North Shore, the North Shore Medical Center will be holding their annual cancer walk, to raise money for cancer research.

Who's walking? Not me, sorry--my knees can't make it 6-plus miles :-). However, my mother, a breast cancer survivor herself, has walked for the past few years.

This year, she gets company.

This is an offensive diary!

Somebody died and I'm going to shit all over him! Yeah, he sucked. I don't care if you're in mourning, he sucked.

Now, fill this diary with 1000 comments. Go write seventeen diaries about how offensive I am. Twelve more about how Kos should ban me, and oh why don't we have the smite button? Ninety-eleven comments pleading for the almighty smite button.

In diaries praising the dead guy, don't forget to link to my offensive diary as evidence that "half the site" is crude and classless and should "grow the fuck up" or something. Because, you see, I speak for half of DKos.

Boy, is this the best place ever to be an Attention Whore, or what?

She's got one. A big fat huge one. If she chooses to take it.

I've realized this, because I have a memory.

Disclaimer: I'm not a fan of Hillary, I never have been, and I think that Bill did enormous damage to the Democratic party. So, yes, one can take this as the "advice" of a non-supporter if one wants to :-). But she does have a chance to become something very special. She's got the smarts and the perseverence to do it.

Right now? She's a senator without much in the way of accomplishment, she's polarizing with huge fans and huge negatives, she lives on name recognition which cuts both ways, and she just fought a very divisive battle which came close to splitting her party apart.

However, the same could've been said about another Senator, except even more so, 28 years ago.

That Senator was, of course, Ted Kennedy.

In his fine diary today, PapaChach muses again about his late wife, makes me get all misty (wry grin), and includes an excellent song.

Got me thinking about my brother, and excellent songs.

When I got to California for his funeral last October, my sis-in-law had a request. They needed three songs for the service. She'd picked two. Her request to me: pick the third, and it has to be an REM song.

Which was fitting.

...and it's gotta be a good one. Because this is going to be the worst mother's day of my mother's life. It's going to be the first MD she has two children instead of three.

And it gets worse. Mother's Day is 5/11. The day before, 5/10? That would've been my brother's 40th birthday if he hadn't died at 39.

My mother would prefer to be out in CA, with my sis-in-law and the three grandchildren, on that weekend. That's not possible, however: my sister is graduating from law school the following Sunday. Mom and Dad will be staying in Boston for that. (They're heading for CA the next day).

Back when I was 20,which was 1985-ish, I was attending the Boston campus at the University of Massachusetts. I lived (and still do) in a suburb about 20 miles north of Boston. UMass-Boston is a commuter campus, and parking sucked, so I did the train-subway thing.

I had a friend, Leisa, who lived in Boston--Jamaica Plain--and drove to school most days. We occasionally hung out together. One fine spring day, we decided to go hang out at the beach at Castle Island in South Boston.

More on the flip....

I'm no newbie, I've been here since '04. And I'm no kid, I'm 43. And I'm not an Obama-worshiper; I like him, I was proud to vote for him, but I would've voted Edwards or Dodd if they'd been HRC's main competition on Super Tuesday.

But I don't understand how anybody who's been here since, oh, at least 2006, could be for Clinton.

Because, aren't these the gates we're supposed to be crashing?

Think about it.

The short answer: because Reagan was a trojan horse. He was the Stealth Wingnut. He got people to vote for him that would've been appalled by his ideology if he'd run as an ideologue. The man was, when elected, the most conservative president since, oh, Hoover. He might still be, depending on how conservative you think Dubya is. He created a sea-change in the definition of American Government, in a way that still reverbates today. But he didn't run that way.

So, whither Obama?

On the flip.

I am transgendered. And I'm pissed off.

This diary is partially a vent; but I hope there will be at least a wee bit of educational content.

First of all, I think we need to talk about a few definitions. TG, TS, transman, transwoman, what does it all mean? Talking about that may help some of you realize where I, and others here, are coming from.

Follow me over the flip.