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You don’t get what you don’t ask for

I have seen a lot of content theft from Reality Me. Yes, I publish full RSS feeds because I like to read full RSS feeds and you get what you give. But that makes it easier for robotic blogs to steal the content and present it as their own. The only way I know about the theft is that I allow trackbacks in my comments. Fortunately, many of my posts link to other information on Reality Me so when someone steals my content I instantly know. That also puts me in a quandary. Technically, these sites are helping my page rank and validating my blog by giving links back to me. On the other hand, they are diminishing the quality of the content (as viewed by the search engines) since the content of the post is duplicated in its entirety. So, do I ignore the theft valuing my time and the links to my blog more than the theft of my hard work? (see comments 6, 7 and 8 on this post that I composed over the course of a week) Or do I waste valuable time tracking down the owner of the blog and pursing legal recourses to stop the infringement?

When I noticed that another post was stolen on June 30, I decided to follow Lorelle VanFossen’s advice and contact the thief. I posted the following as a comment on the other blog:

This is to advise you that you are using copyrighted and protected material on your website/blog. Your illegal use of XXXX article at XXXURLXXX is originally from my website/blog called XXTITLEXXX at XXXURLXXX. This is original content and I am the author and copyright holder. Use of copyright protected material without permission is illegal under copyright laws.

Please take one or more of the following actions immediately:

* Re-write the post to include excerpts with a link to the original content.
* Credit the material specifically to me, as author, and my website [be specific].
* Provide compensation for use of my copyright protected material of $XX.00 USD paid via [payment method].
* Remove the plagiarized material immediately.

I expect a response within 5 days to this issue. Thank you for your immediate action on this matter.
[Source]

Naturally I filled in all the Xs appropriately. Surprisingly it took less time to do that than it is taking to write this post. And in just about as much time, the theft had turned to honorable blogger by changing the post to a summary and giving an appropriate attribution. I was pleasantly surprised and no longer harbored ill feelings toward the other person. I even followed up with a thank you comment. I feel we both win this way.

Lorelle VanFossen has more fantastic insight into the problem of content theft explaining image theft, feed scraping, and website hijacking. She also explains what to do when you become a victim of content theft.

Posted on 10 Comments

So I’m a condom ad

Young Purchases

colored condoms

I remember the first condom I ever bought. I was 11 or 12 and it was a dry, non-lubricated condom. I remember this because I bought it at a store that sold Mardi Gras beads, magic tricks, and novelties. The condom came in a white box with a joke printed on it. I do not remember the joke. What I do remember is that I did not buy it for the joke rather I wanted to know what one of those things looked like.

Condom Aisle

That first condom purchase had no tension. Every condom purchase after that for the better part of a decade was guilt ridden. You’d approach the checkout feeling that because you were under 18 you would be denied your purchase. Or you would not take your eyes off the floor for fear of seeing those judging eyes of everyone in the store who had obviously stopped their shopping to stare at the sinful teen buying a condom. Didn’t they know it was going to just sit in that vinyl wallet to make the status circle until the wrapper wore thin and had to be replaced with another condom?

Providing Protection

Giving a condom

As a resident assistant at the University of TN Knoxville (Clement and Reese), I had condoms galore to distribute to the residents. Aids Response Knoxville had given me 200-300 colored condoms to distribute to the residents. Ha! They should have been named inner tubes rather than condoms considering they were thick enough to bag your lawn clippings. But they were pretty! As I gave someone the last condom, I lamented that I’d have to buy condoms again. Of course, you can get free condoms online from Trojan and Durex.

Five Children Later

Daddy drinks because I cry

Two years ago, Omega was born. Two years ago, I readied myself to never purchase a condom again. For the most part, guys don’t want anyone playing around their groin with one notable exception. Age and economics have placed us in a position of saying 5 children is enough. Don’t get me wrong. I love having a large family and would have really liked having more children (not that many). Just under two years ago, I lamented that merely $600 kept me from participating in National Vasectomy Awareness Week.

Buying Condoms With Children

The other day Cathy, Evan and I approach the checkout at the grocery store and it occurs to me that we are in no position to exercise some adult stress relief. Evan is a little wild so I take him with me as Cathy unloads the shopping cart at the register. I find where they keep the condoms and I stare into the multi-color array of pleasure choices. Ribbed for the illusion of increased stimulation. Extra-large for small egos. Coated in desensitizing lotion in case your antidepressant is not doing its job. "Anti-depressants; they make you popular!" Non-lubricated for nostalgia. Flavored because you’re fooling yourself. Twisted because we’re fooling you. Tingling because no sex is better than the kind she screams out, "it burns! it burns!" Ultra-ultra-ultra thin because you might just want another baby.

Oh. I got distracted. Where’s Evan? Oh! Screaming and bolting for the exit. I grab the least expensive 12 pack (a year’s supply) checking to make sure it doesn’t say nonoxynol-9 (which I am pretty sure doesn’t come on any condom anymore) and making sure it doesn’t say Michelin then bolt for Evan. He sees me coming, laughs, squeals, changes direction and shoots toward the lines of staring people at the checkouts. "Oh look honey! That man carrying the box of condoms is chasing the undisciplined hellion." I finally catch Evan who grabs the box of condoms and politely hands them to the cashier.

Internet Campaign to Neuter Doug

I think Evan is finally turning in his lease. Dr Snip KnifeI have a chance at a romance life again! I think perhaps it is time to walk the path some other brave men have journeyed. Time to buy a decent bottle of scotch and a bag of frozen peas. Dr. Snip here I come!

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Drupal – Not bad

I just finished a Drupal theming project. I rode a steep learning curve but I can dig Drupal now. Styling with css. Custom PHP. Custom nodes and blocks. Pretty cool! I do not think Drupal will steal me away from WordPress for blogging but it may steer me toward using it as a CMS platform for business website applications for businesses that want to have regular updates (ala blogging) and more interaction with their customers (ala forums).

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I’m playing an RPG!

Since I work alone, I find peers online. IRC (Internet Relay Chat) is my greatest resource. I hang out in a channel on the EFNET servers called #coldfusion. Sometimes I visit the DALNET servers for #coldfusion and FreeNode for corporate support of various software products. I was introduced to IRC in the fall of 1988 shortly after its creation. I thought it wonderful that you could jump into a group of people, ask a question, and quickly have answer or variety of opinions. I still share that thought.

IRC has culture to it. N3wbs (newbies) make the same mistakes and get ridiculed harshly. It is like stepping into a well established ritzy social club and interrupting everyone’s conversations by yelling through the room, "Hey I’m new here! Anyone want to chat?" Good way to be ostracized. Discussion topics are typically organized by channels. #coldfusion is generally used to discussion Adobe’s ColdFusion web application language. A new IRC user typically steps into a channel and immediately says, "Can I ask a question?" which grates on everyone’s nerves because a question is expected. Asking to ask is redundant, unnecessary, and down right annoying. Idling is when a person is in a channel and doing nothing. I idle in #coldfusion almost 24/7. That way I can follow discussions and, like IM, someone can leave me a message and I can get back to them at a later time.

I was invited to join a channel on efnet called #idlerpg. I found this terribly amusing. It is a game! A game you play and win by doing nothing. The goal is to idle in the channel. You are penalized by doing things. If you change your nickname, you lose points (time in this case). It is an RPG so you gain inventory, engage in fights, go on quests, and move up levels. You simply do not do anything to make this happen! A very amusing concept. You can check on my status online. I am currently a level 4 Mad Coder.

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Evening Gone Awry

Since I did not get my work finished this weekend, I did not get to take time today to fix up my bike (which looks like a pile of rust anyway). We rushed to get dinner made and for some odd reason the taquitoes didn’t cook so no one ate. We get down to the head of the bike trail at 7pm, the normal scout meeting time, and we see evidence of our Scouts but no Scouts. Obviously they met earlier. We just never saw an email. Turns out they met at 6 and rolled out at 6:15. We arrived at 6:55. We drove for 30 minutes searching the trail and finally returned to the finish line to let Noah, Amy and Evan ride the trail. We got to see a train and wave at the engineer. They had a blast and eventually the Scouts returned. Molly wrenched my arm out of socket but we also got some good sprinting in. I need more regular exercise like that. Unfortunately, I’d planned the evening to be coding. Now I’m just tired and sore.

Can I possibly correct the mistakes I have made within this lifetime?

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Egad they’re real!

Saturday night Cathy, Tommy, Evan and I decided to grab a bite to eat. And we treated ourselves to a restaurant. As we are being seated my eyes fall upon the grill that the restaurant is giving away and I drift over to it to fill out the marketing information registration as the rest of the crew move on. "It’s Doug!" I look up to see Thing 1 and Thing 2 and a nice couple, obviously their parents. Look away! Don’t make eye contact. Blast this facial/name recognition deficiency of mine. Wait. You have to look at their faces to recognize them otherwise its just bodies in clothes. Clothes! Look for clues. Well, Thing 1 and Thing 2. Pretty big clues! Tall guy. They know me. Where’s my help? Panic! Look at grill. No look for Cathy. Eh. The restaurant is a cloud of blurry people. Looks like I’m staring at the prison train from The Wall. Eeks. No help there. Clues? A theatre reference on the shirt! Thing 1, Thing 2. Suessical! It’s the Barrys!

Whew! Takes a lot of words to recall 5 seconds of one’s life. I don’t know if it is the stress of worrying that if you don’t immediately recognize someone that you will offend them or if it was all that beerdamage I did to my brain in college or if its the stress of my life in general or if I just am incapable but regardless of how well I know you there are simply times where I stare at your face and no name will come to me!

I really like seeing our online friend’s in the real world. It is nice to pretend that I have friends in the flesh for the people who read Reality Me probably know me better than people in real life and the readers probably interact with me more than people in real life. I really stay locked in the basement A LOT! We need human contact! Granted, Scouting and some of the other activities of the children have brought us out of our hermitation a bit of late. And that’s nice. Of course, I wanted to bug the Barry’s and be social but Cathy in her ever present since of prudence would not let me interrupt their dinner although I sneaked in a "good-bye" and "break a leg" despite Cathy’s protests. Barry and family, it was great seeing you guys!