Migrated website to new server, and was astonished to see split-second propagation. But yes, there was the address, and there was the new site. Amazing.
Hours later, I type in some keywords, click on the link to the site. The old site has turned back up like a bad penny. WTF?
Nick wants to discover the joys of Internettery. It always starts out fun, but once you start spending serious money running your commercial site, it's more of a Kafkaeske struggle with Google, Yahoo, MSN et al.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Monday, August 15, 2005
Mars
Woke up with Mars. Too early, but I couldn't go back to sleep.
Last night, my mother called while I was putting out a fire. She sounded tearful to me as I hosed down the smoldering grill. We were talking about my son's birthday.
This morning, I felt compelled to go outside. I heard the owl call my name as a star flashed past. It reminded me of my dreams, delight and dread and equal portions.
Late summer is my favorite time of year, especially in the astronomical dawn, when no one is up but me, and the universe has yet to take the shape of its own imaginings.
Late summer is when we begin to make the turn away from the busy galactic hub and turn our phocus outward to more distant spaces.
Late summer is when I start writing "phocus" for "focus"; "heared", then "hered" then "herd" for "heard".
This early in the morning, my mind hooks thinks up in different ways.
As I tried to settle back to sleep, I thought of ants sleeping, their heads all bowed to the east. Even this wasn't enough. I thought of windjammers sailing across a martian desert, sprinting ahead of the planetary dust storms. I thought of lost chords vibrating in ten-dimensional space and time = me = u.
Somewhere, a zebra dips its head to drink. Somewhere, the lion, watching.
The other day, I suddenly felt the need to hear "One" by Creed. Naturally, we couldn't find it. I think it's been about five years since I knew where any of my music was.
That same day, in the Safewary parking lot, I saw this license plate: 1CREED.
Makes me think the universe is trying to talk to me using real images. God wants me to know something.
A child asked me why God didn't just talk to us. Good question.
God should get email or a phone.
God's phone!
"Thank you for calling God. All of our customer service representatives are currently helping other mortals. Your call is very important to us. If you know the extension number of the person you're trying to reach, you may enter it at any time. (heavenly hold music) Thank you for calling God. Did you know that you can find many answers at our website? www.god.org. Your call is very important to us..."
God's extension number would be an infinite number of digits, a mathematical description of the entire universe.
But every once in a while, God sends a message.
I think this isn't the first time Mars has woken me up, and it isn't the first time a meteor has shot past over my house, just as I was looking up.
Now I could sleep.
Last night, my mother called while I was putting out a fire. She sounded tearful to me as I hosed down the smoldering grill. We were talking about my son's birthday.
This morning, I felt compelled to go outside. I heard the owl call my name as a star flashed past. It reminded me of my dreams, delight and dread and equal portions.
Late summer is my favorite time of year, especially in the astronomical dawn, when no one is up but me, and the universe has yet to take the shape of its own imaginings.
Late summer is when we begin to make the turn away from the busy galactic hub and turn our phocus outward to more distant spaces.
Late summer is when I start writing "phocus" for "focus"; "heared", then "hered" then "herd" for "heard".
This early in the morning, my mind hooks thinks up in different ways.
As I tried to settle back to sleep, I thought of ants sleeping, their heads all bowed to the east. Even this wasn't enough. I thought of windjammers sailing across a martian desert, sprinting ahead of the planetary dust storms. I thought of lost chords vibrating in ten-dimensional space and time = me = u.
Somewhere, a zebra dips its head to drink. Somewhere, the lion, watching.
The other day, I suddenly felt the need to hear "One" by Creed. Naturally, we couldn't find it. I think it's been about five years since I knew where any of my music was.
That same day, in the Safewary parking lot, I saw this license plate: 1CREED.
Makes me think the universe is trying to talk to me using real images. God wants me to know something.
A child asked me why God didn't just talk to us. Good question.
God should get email or a phone.
God's phone!
"Thank you for calling God. All of our customer service representatives are currently helping other mortals. Your call is very important to us. If you know the extension number of the person you're trying to reach, you may enter it at any time. (heavenly hold music) Thank you for calling God. Did you know that you can find many answers at our website? www.god.org. Your call is very important to us..."
God's extension number would be an infinite number of digits, a mathematical description of the entire universe.
But every once in a while, God sends a message.
I think this isn't the first time Mars has woken me up, and it isn't the first time a meteor has shot past over my house, just as I was looking up.
Now I could sleep.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Bizzy
Sold more than 1400 ratchet wheel straps yesterday. Three more orders this morning. It was almost ten in the morning before I dropped H off at school. Phone rings every five minutes.
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