The Discipline of An Army Ranger

I am being so very well-mannered today. So very. The comments section of a blog that I write about way too much and so will not name here is rife with remarks that would normally get all sorts of spew from me, but I am refraining. To show myself that I can, that I am not a compulsive commenting junkie. I will write about them here, instead!

Those of you who know about my former Map Queen title (those are TWO Geography degrees under this belt, friends) will be dumbfounded to know that I did not write one word in response to a commenter who started going off on the virtues of the Peters Projection. Which we all know is so very well intentioned--kind of like a new PETA convert--in its histrionics about showing the correct sizes of all the land masses. Too bad the map looks like it was drawn by Salvador Dali, and very little like the continents seen on any globe. That's the problem in trying to show three-dimensional shapes on a two-dimensional surface. You've got to make some kind of compromise, or it looks like shit. Bucky Fuller's Dymaxion Projection will always be my gold standard.

The second commenter expressed a desire to be tortured by a mutant cephalopod. My hand started inching towards that cat-o-nine tails, but...sigh. They didn't say where they lived, anyhow.

In control. Ooh yes. Admire me! Look upon me, and despair!

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