10,000, approximately

Next, Back, Thread Ahead: jerkin' boat, Thread Back: Masters of War.

Taking stock, seems like a good day to take stock. A year and a bit; 190 posts at 500 or so words each (not counting HTML), 100,000 words, round numbers. If you do a straight count it is interesting - 350,000 words; that is, for every word I write, there are two more of HTML. This is the world of computing, and everything in it turns out to be approximate. There have been 10,000 'visits' here, again approximately; quite a few of those were me before I figgured out how to stop counting myself, and some people have come more than once; 'around' 10,000 then, 25 a day. No quick way to count the comments; I would guess 50 or so, some small number. So there has been no great exchange of opinions here either, almost none; anyway the blog setup does not favour exchange. Editing is a nightmare; arcane syntax, arbitrary and inconsistent grammars, servers are up and down, performance is poor, the search tools don't work, a-and, there is no way to back it up. Many can barely read and write, they certainly can't spell, not 'relevant'; and most don't want to think - not part of the 'entitlement'; I thought his name was 'Gerald Manley Hopkins', it is 'Gerard Manley Hopkins'; I am no better obviously and this is neither the remedy nor the counterforce. I am embarrassed to say how much time it took me; at least three hours for every post. Boobage indeed. Bottom line? Clearly a waste of time. If it's to communicate, better standing in the road talking to people face-to-face. If it's just to waste time, better off wanking. If I come upon any more around José Datrino, the Profeta de Gentileza, I will publish it.

10,000 Men, Bob Dylan 1990. Ten thousand men on a hill, Ten thousand men on a hill, Some of 'm goin' down, Some of 'm gonna get killed. Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue, Ten thousand men dressed in oxford blue, Drummin' in the morning, In the evening they'll be coming for you. Ten thousand men on the move, Ten thousand men on the move, None of them doing nothin' That your mama wouldn't disapprove. Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold, Ten thousand men digging for silver and gold, All clean shaven, All coming in from the cold. Hey! Who could your lover be? Hey! Who could your lover be? Let me eat off his head So you can really see! Ten thousand women all dressed in white, Ten thousand women all dressed in white, Standin' at my window Wishing me goodnight. Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail, Ten thousand men looking so lean and frail, Each one of 'em got seven wives, Each one of 'em just out of jail. Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room, Ten thousand women all sweepin' my room, Spilling my buttermilk, Sweeping it up with a broom. Ooh, baby, thank you for my tea! Baby, thank you for my tea! It's so sweet of you To be so nice to me.

Tags: Dylan, Blogging, Wanking.