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Tuesday -the Wakefield Doctrine- “…of crib-sheets, borrowed notes and the mildest of workweek days.”

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

Much to do today.

Fortunately, it is Tuesday (Tuesday’s motto: “Sure, why not? the Rest of the week is wide open. Be all you can be today and don’t worry ’bout nothin’)

Hey! Don’t forget them extra cool upper/lower ordinals (?) and, blockquotes for good measure.

This, of course, in response to Mimi and Denise’s comments.

“Yes, you can’t demo html code without it doing the effect, I’ve tried. Maybe if you post a picture of the code it would work.” (M.)

“That was fun (no, Denise, Monday morning (while leaving a comment) is not the time to figure out how to italicize words in the comment box).
I’ll meet everyone in the language lab a bit later! (D)

ok1. errr ok1

that should cover all the html that we ever use. now: lets see if’n ‘the Press allows us copy and paste them pyschoglyphics!

For us, once we were told the basic convention (of extra-cool word things) was: using ‘<‘ and ‘>” as brackets always negate the command, as in <something> Object word/phrase </something>

as in: <em> italics on word/phrase <not italics>

lets push this button ….here is the top half showing html tags

Welcome to the <strong>Wakefield Doctrine</strong> (<strong><em>the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers</em></strong>)

Much to do today.

Fortunately, it is Tuesday (<em>Tuesday’s motto: “Sure, why not? the Rest of the week is wide open. Be all you can be today and don’t worry ’bout nothin'</em>)

Hey! Don’t forget them extra cool upper/lower ordinals (?) and, blockquotes for good measure.

This, of course, in response to Mimi and Denise’s comments.
<blockquote>Yes, you can’t demo html code without it doing the effect, I’ve tried. Maybe if you post a picture of the code it would work. (M.)

I’ll meet everyone in the language lab a bit later! (D)</blockquote>
ok<sup>1</sup>. errr ok<sub>1</sub>

that should cover all the html that we ever use. now: lets see if’n ‘the Press let’s us copy and paste them pyschoglyphics!

For us, once we were told the basic convention (of extra-cool word things) was: using ‘&lt;’ and ‘&gt;” as brackets always negate the command, as in &lt;something&gt; Object word/phrase &lt;/something&gt;

as in: &lt;em&gt; italics on word/phrase &lt;not italics&gt;

 

Holy shit! it worked!

Lets quit while we ahead.

This is the way that we know of to put italics and such into comments on another body’s post.

 

 

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RePrint Monday -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

Found it!*

*The post we referred to in last week, this one; about how, in the early days of this blog, we’d find ourselfs prompted by the oddest of things to write a post.

the Wakefield Doctrine ‘Always Chilled…Never Heated’

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)Finish the Sentence Friday.

(a ‘blog hop’ that is being: sponsored,  promoted, hosted by, enticed-into-by-the-charms-of, held-in-a-metaphorical-gymnasium-on-a-Friday-night, on-the-list-of-charming-old-homes-to-tour, the central feature of the blogosphere and experienced as the high point of the week at the BB&G,  courtesy of the Doctrine’s three favorite Bloggarini : Janine ( Confessions of a Mommyaholic), Kate (Can I have another bottle of Whine…), Stephanie (Mommy, for real) and Dawn (Dawn’s Disaster)

“If I were stuck on an island, I would like to have…”

…the following in no particular order or emphasis:

  • Ginger and Maryanne
  • an internet connection
  • the body of a 19 year old (gender optional)
  • the mind of my present age
  • 1 of my childhood friends
  • 3 of my adolescent aged friends
  • 1 of my teenage years girlfriends (real or imagined)
  • my first car (1964 Chevy Bel Air station wagon in faded-to-orange-blue paint)
  • a contract to complete the Wakefield Doctrine book (currently in ‘pre-write’)
  • the physique to wear shorts without looking: a) silly, b) old or d) excessively gay (not that there’s anything wrong with being gay)
  • an endless supply of BLTs (despite the climate there is always magically un-adulterated mayonnaise)
  • a boat (just for sitting in and looking at the Island from the middle of the lagoon, with Maryanne waving and what I would swear looks like Ola in a clearing in the jungle)

Hey!  Somehow I have this little darling up at the beginning of the eponymous Friday morning…. hey!  don’t be afraid to call in tomorrow night (if you find yourself in a place at 8:00 pm EDT where you know where the kids are, and they seem to be happy and quiet or you have no plans and you feel like something that will challenge your beliefs and amuse you in ways that you haven’t been amused since…oh I don’t know… since, before girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands and wives, children and favorite pets became the central organizing feature of your reality.  call and you might find yourself enjoying, or not who can really say for sure?

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Wellll!

That certainly was fun.

To get a jump on this week’s Doctrine posts, we’ll be continuing our discussion of fluency.

For our purposes, the term fluency denotes the understanding of the principles of the Wakefield Doctrine; like with a second language, i.e. an advanced degree in facility in the use of the language of the Doctrine.

Should be a fun week,

 

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TToT -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Ten Things of Thankful (TToT) bloghop. Founded in 1893 on the shores of Crime Lake on the outskirts of Manchester, this Grat Blog has been persisting ever since. The current hostinae of the TToT, Dyanne, is, by both legend and reliable roumor, a direct descentdent of the charwoman (and her neer-do-well ‘usband, Mortimer Cottswold) who tended to most of the cottages lining the lake. Collectively referred to as Daisy Nook, it was the preferred summer retreat for the hoi polloi throughout the late Victorian Era. The most damning evidence of this storied progéniture is a birthmark born by the host that many have said is a perfect map of Crime Lake. (go ahead, ask her… we dare you)

1) Una

Not! See Grat #4

 

2) Phyllis

3) the Wakefield Doctrine

4) a moderate Winter (not another word! (ok one word: dearth of frozen water in semi-aerosol form))

5) the Six Sentence Story (Fave Six of the week, ‘Two Writers‘)

6) the Unicorn Challenge (fave ‘corn story of the week, ‘Accidents‘)

7) continuing insights into an understanding of the principles of the Wakefield this week past (passed?) we spoke about levering one perspective in order to broaden (and deepen) our understanding and appreciation of ‘the other two’ predominant worldviews (the Post). We will be continuing our discussion next week. The focus will be narrowed-down to, ‘What?!!’

8) approaching business opportunity/timeline-mod (yeah, vague yet-cloyingly-intriguing… lol is this your first time here at the Wakefield Doctrine?)

9) something, something

10) Secret Rule 1.3

 

music vids

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F1 -the Wakefield Doctrine-

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

Please, turn off all cell phones. The test will begin promptly at omg-o’clock. You may not leave until the allotted time has elapsed. The Proctors will move freely about the room. Should you choose to leave for any reason, you waive all rights and indemnify the test company, it’s employees and anyone associated with this classroom.

Sound familiar?

ceayr and Our Miz jenne invite all those with sufficient confidence, reckless abandon and/or suicidal self-confidence to contribute a story. Using the photo below and not exceeding 250 words, join in the Unicorn Challenge.

No questions?

Good Luck

…begin

 

“No way.”

“Liam, you know the rules. No private texting. If you have something to say about this or any other exhibit, both audio and video modes must be enabled.” The border of the teacher tile on the screen glowed brightly. M. Grnby was held in high esteem by fellow teachers and parents alike for being non-confrontational with pupils in her Historical Appreciation class.

“It’s just that,” the boy appeared on the lower right of the screen, “There’s no way that thing could be stable. Yet the Museum Tour ‘bot just said it’s a human-powered vehicle.”

“That’s right,” M Grngy cued a supportive blue tint to the border of her tile on the class computer display.

“Where’s the battery or airbags or, for that matter, the control module?”

The collective murmurs of all seventy-five eighth-grade pupils was sprinkled with laughter.

“I like the flowers.” Olivia, who the educational AI had flagged at the beginning of the semester as nascent Influencer, smiled. She was unaware an educational subroutine that immediately softened the gain on the classroom audio and threw in a flurry of subliminal images; mostly of serenely beautiful babies and warmly-glowing kitchens.

A private text appeared on Liam’s phone, “I bet you could ride it.”

Looking up at the group screen, he saw the background hue in Olivia’s window darkened from cheerful pink to a strangely pleasing scarlet.

 

 

 

 

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Six Sentence Story -the Wakefield Doctrine- [a Café Six]

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Wakefield Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted each week by Denise, all we’re asked to do is write a story of six (and only six) sentences.

So we continue this oddly interesting meeting of the Sophomore and the tall, thin man. Our last encounter.

Prompt word:

CRAFT

“Let’s say, just for the sake of argument, I accept your claim of being a time-traveler; as far as I can tell, you got the other Proprietors, if not believing you, at least are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” the fingers of the young man’s hands on the arms of his chair went from being triangles to lying in a row; spotting this reaction, the tall, thin man leaned forward, “aka humoring the kid’.”

“That’s not very ‘you’ of you to take that particular tact,” the Sophomore, marginally more upright in his chair, his pupils dilating as his nostrils flared, any prize fighter stepping into the ring.

Seeing uncertainty and anger grow in the older man’s face, he hastened to add, “What I mean to say is, courtesy of my putative knowledge of the past…. your past, that kinda sneery, faux-crafty response is for a personality type that you are not.”

The young man with long hair and a head full of fear added, “You, ‘Mr T. Thin Man’ sir, suspect I am who I say I am, but fear of the implications has you as tangled up as an octopus in a bowl of warm spaghetti.”

“Fuck you,” the Proprietor pushed away from the desk like a third grader from his cafeteria tray on Welsh Rarebit Day.

The phones on the desk began to ring, vibrate mode making them move randomly across the surface, digital Mexican jumping-Chiclets; a million miles, (and decades of life) away from the Six Sentence Café and Bistro, the tall, thin man considered which phone to answer first.

*

 

 

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