I signed up for a Blogspot account. I used my Yahoo e-mail address to do so. Blogspot consolidated with Blogger. The old login worked fine. Then, they decided to team up with Google, but I wasn't active. Now, they want me to log in with my Google account, which isn't associated with the account--and which somehow can't be my gmail address.
There is a way to log in to your old account--but only if you know your username (which I now have) AND pasword. I have tried every password I ever remember using, but none work. When I try to recover my password, Blogger tells me that my Yahoo account IS a Google account. It sends e-mail to the Yahoo account--but it doesn't send me my password. It instructs me to log in to the old Blogger account using the "Google" Yahoo address.
Their log-in interface for old Google account will not allow you to log in using e-mail addresses.
So I chose to re-set my password.
Effing Blogger allowed me to re-set the password on my "Google" Yahoo account--but I still can't log in to my existing Blogger account with it, because you can't log in to an old Blogger/Blogspot account with an e-mail address.
In the midst of all this, I thought of one last possible password to try. I went to blogger.com--only to find out that, despite having been told every time I tried to log in that my login was unsuccessful, I was somehow logged in now.
I have no idea what finally logged me in. I have spent, because I do not want to lose track of a friend who is making this her new primary blogging HQ, over half an hour just working on getting logged in here. Because I was never told that I had logged in, I have no idea what worked or whether I'll be able to log in again.
Frankly, Blogger irritates the hell out of me.
For instance: Why the hell does it demand that I use a "Google" account and then tell me I can't use my gmail address as the primary address on this account? What the hell makes my Yahoo account qualify as a "Google" account in their eyes? Why does their legacy login demand that you use a user ID (not an e-mail address) and then direct you via e-mail to log in using an e-mail address?
I have thought, several times, that if I could ever get the damn login mess sorted out, I'd give the site a fair try.
I am not stupid. I made my living, until last December, working online.
Yet, I am unable to get my login issues with Blogger sorted out. That doesn't make me feel much like they care whether I have or use an account or whether anyone does.
I could certainly start a new account. But I don't see why I should have to abandon my old one. I like the ID. It's me, across several sites.
And what the hell is with having to use some second-party service to keep track of people?
No, thanks.
So, if you're an emigre from Multiply, I'll try to read what you post here. But only because I really, really like you.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Why I Write (a tedious self-reflection in poetry and prose)
This is also a Sacred Songspace challenge.
I
I write to understand the world and myself. I write to speak for people who need someone to speak for them. I write to speak for myself. I write to learn what I think. I write to gain clarity. I write to tell the truth.
II
The truth is never
objective. Facts are not
the truth. The truth is salvific.
The truth will make us free.
The truth is that
there is a greater truth
of which we catch only glimpses.
The truth is that we are blind,
deaf, insensate, but we have
glimpses,
moments of sight and insight.
III
Art is the expression of insight. Art is the way we share the glimpses we have. Art partakes of the truth, and therefore, it partakes of salvation. If we could turn glimpse into sight and, through art, turn sight into vision, art could save humanity. But we have no sight, only glimpses, and even the best of artists communicate those glimpses only imperfectly.
Even so, art is how we discover what it means to be human. By creating art, responding to art, sharing those glimpses that come to ourselves and others, we redefine who we are, we learn to understand the glimpses we have of the truth.
IV
There is truth in myth.
There are deeper truths
than what he said,
she said,
they said,
we are told,
we see,
we say.
There are truths we share
without being aware.
We write those truths in some way
every time we caress a keyboard,
enfold with a hand a pen,
make forms on the blank of page or screen.
I write to understand
and share the glimpses I have had
of the deeper truths.
I write because I believe
in humanity
in truth
in myth
in fact
in small salvations
here and now.
V
This is the paradox of art, that it partakes of the potential for salvation but can never really save the world, the artist, the viewer, the reader... It never transforms the world. It seldom transforms a person. Yet because it partakes of that potential, it can transform a thought, a moment, an insight. It can prevent or at least slow the long slide into a world without glimpses, it can make the truth more visible, it can remind us that humanity has a choice, that there are deeper truths, that those truths are worth seeking, worth expressing. Art alone will never redeem us, but it is redemptive, if only because it reminds us of the possibility of redemption, salvation, transformation, reminds us of the deeper truths.
VI
The deeper truths
are not solely beauty,
though beauty may be truth,
as the poet said.
And truth may be beauty,
but what a strange beauty,
the beauty of the masses
and the few
and the one,
the beauty of the love
and the hate
and the pain
and the hope.
The beauty of art is religious,
even for atheists,
for it is the beauty of Buddha and Christ, the
beauty of the love that accepts all
that is human
and goes on loving.
I cannot love
like that in life.
I am not Christ,
no Buddha I.
Slights, hurts, and betrayals,
rejections, trespasses,
violations and violence,
the wrong of the bully,
the desecration of the truth--
they blind me, stop me;
I let them kill my love.
When I write, I purge them
or remind myself
how little they matter,
remind myself to love,
just a little,
as I should.
VIII
Joan Didion points out that the phrase "Why I Write" says "I . . . . I . . . . I," which is true, but I think that we create art of any kind, and we write whether we think we are artists or not, because in doing so, we say both "I . . . .I . . . . I" and "YOU!" And we say "yes," as well. I believe that we write because, in the end, writing transforms us, as all art transforms us, whether it is our own or that of others. I believe that I write because I seek transformation. I write to become more fully human.
© K. Kammann 2008
I
I write to understand the world and myself. I write to speak for people who need someone to speak for them. I write to speak for myself. I write to learn what I think. I write to gain clarity. I write to tell the truth.
II
The truth is never
objective. Facts are not
the truth. The truth is salvific.
The truth will make us free.
The truth is that
there is a greater truth
of which we catch only glimpses.
The truth is that we are blind,
deaf, insensate, but we have
glimpses,
moments of sight and insight.
III
Art is the expression of insight. Art is the way we share the glimpses we have. Art partakes of the truth, and therefore, it partakes of salvation. If we could turn glimpse into sight and, through art, turn sight into vision, art could save humanity. But we have no sight, only glimpses, and even the best of artists communicate those glimpses only imperfectly.
Even so, art is how we discover what it means to be human. By creating art, responding to art, sharing those glimpses that come to ourselves and others, we redefine who we are, we learn to understand the glimpses we have of the truth.
IV
There is truth in myth.
There are deeper truths
than what he said,
she said,
they said,
we are told,
we see,
we say.
There are truths we share
without being aware.
We write those truths in some way
every time we caress a keyboard,
enfold with a hand a pen,
make forms on the blank of page or screen.
I write to understand
and share the glimpses I have had
of the deeper truths.
I write because I believe
in humanity
in truth
in myth
in fact
in small salvations
here and now.
V
This is the paradox of art, that it partakes of the potential for salvation but can never really save the world, the artist, the viewer, the reader... It never transforms the world. It seldom transforms a person. Yet because it partakes of that potential, it can transform a thought, a moment, an insight. It can prevent or at least slow the long slide into a world without glimpses, it can make the truth more visible, it can remind us that humanity has a choice, that there are deeper truths, that those truths are worth seeking, worth expressing. Art alone will never redeem us, but it is redemptive, if only because it reminds us of the possibility of redemption, salvation, transformation, reminds us of the deeper truths.
VI
The deeper truths
are not solely beauty,
though beauty may be truth,
as the poet said.
And truth may be beauty,
but what a strange beauty,
the beauty of the masses
and the few
and the one,
the beauty of the love
and the hate
and the pain
and the hope.
The beauty of art is religious,
even for atheists,
for it is the beauty of Buddha and Christ, the
beauty of the love that accepts all
that is human
and goes on loving.
I cannot love
like that in life.
I am not Christ,
no Buddha I.
Slights, hurts, and betrayals,
rejections, trespasses,
violations and violence,
the wrong of the bully,
the desecration of the truth--
they blind me, stop me;
I let them kill my love.
When I write, I purge them
or remind myself
how little they matter,
remind myself to love,
just a little,
as I should.
VIII
Joan Didion points out that the phrase "Why I Write" says "I . . . . I . . . . I," which is true, but I think that we create art of any kind, and we write whether we think we are artists or not, because in doing so, we say both "I . . . .I . . . . I" and "YOU!" And we say "yes," as well. I believe that we write because, in the end, writing transforms us, as all art transforms us, whether it is our own or that of others. I believe that I write because I seek transformation. I write to become more fully human.
© K. Kammann 2008
Do you draw? Sketch? Write? Paint? Take photos? Know someone who does? Read this entry!
In 2006, the "orphan works" bill was introduced in the U.S. House of Representatives. It is still before a committee and is actively being considered.
It is ostensibly a bill to make it possible to use works when the copyright owner can't be identified or found. Effectively, it takes away all passive copyright protection and would force everyone to pay to protect every single thing they create, including snapshots. If we don't pay to register the works, we lose all right to them, and anyone can use them.
This bill is still before Congress, and they're still having hearings on them. I'm posting a link to San Souci's blog entry on this bill (which has a little souci, anyway and to a video of the May 13 House subcommittee hearing on this bill. The hearing is an hour and a half or so long, so I haven't yet viewed the whole thing. That will have to wait for the weekend, but I did want to make others aware of it, partly because I think some people will want to view it and partly because the link establishes that this isn't just an urgan legend and the bill is still active.
It is ostensibly a bill to make it possible to use works when the copyright owner can't be identified or found. Effectively, it takes away all passive copyright protection and would force everyone to pay to protect every single thing they create, including snapshots. If we don't pay to register the works, we lose all right to them, and anyone can use them.
This bill is still before Congress, and they're still having hearings on them. I'm posting a link to San Souci's blog entry on this bill (which has a little souci, anyway and to a video of the May 13 House subcommittee hearing on this bill. The hearing is an hour and a half or so long, so I haven't yet viewed the whole thing. That will have to wait for the weekend, but I did want to make others aware of it, partly because I think some people will want to view it and partly because the link establishes that this isn't just an urgan legend and the bill is still active.
Brain, Heat, Time (poetry warning)
This is a tanka cycle that I wrote for a poetry group on Multiply.
Brain, Heat, Time
Once, my brain worked right,
on command, reliably.
I sit here, blankly,
sure of nothing, only tired,
and think my mind was strong, once.
Dogs lie at the door,
tongues out, panting in the shade,
past the edge of which
the pulsing sun whips, defeats
the ground, the air, the plants, me.
Tock. The moments meld
together, one, a thousand,
no in between ones,
just unmoving now, no change
to feel as day grows dark. Tick.
© K. Kammann 2008
Brain, Heat, Time
Once, my brain worked right,
on command, reliably.
I sit here, blankly,
sure of nothing, only tired,
and think my mind was strong, once.
Dogs lie at the door,
tongues out, panting in the shade,
past the edge of which
the pulsing sun whips, defeats
the ground, the air, the plants, me.
Tock. The moments meld
together, one, a thousand,
no in between ones,
just unmoving now, no change
to feel as day grows dark. Tick.
© K. Kammann 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Hello?
This is basically a test post. I migrated from Yahoo 360 to Multiply, but not everyone who left 360 loves it there. In the end, I guess I'll have one blog here and one (okay, three, but that's another story altogether) on Multiply. I'll try to post whatever I would ordinarily post on 360 here--though lately, 360 has been mostly duplicates of Multiply posts. Maybe I'll use this one for everything not totally personal--confine the fluff to the one ID at Multiply, and include poetry, general blogs, politics, and random thoughts here.
The photo is a test, as well. It's some kind of heron.
I don' t know who all I know here. Astra Navigo, for sure. Gigglesbee, I think. I strongly suspect that my friend Kelie has a blog here, because she has something everywhere, whether she uses it or not. Tulips in Spring is somewhere, and I'm pretty sure it's here.
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