Fri, Apr 13, 2001 11:50PM -0600

I read somewhere (I forget where...my bookmarks files are a complete mess. Yes, files. I've never been satisfied with running only one browser at a time <g>) that home pages and blogs just like this are the bane of the Internet, filling it with more and more crap each every nanosecond, making it harder and harder for search engines like Google to make sense of it all.

And I found myself quite chagrined (I've always liked that word) that I'm part of the problem, and I felt compelled to at least make a pathetic attempt at rectification. Hence, my little page of Code. It's not much--the only thing even slightly useful are the scripts to get PPPoE running on Linux, but it's actual, honest-to-God content. I'll fix my alibata page someday, as well.

But yeah, it's kind of strange how I've spent the most time on this blog thingamajig. I mean, yeah, I've always felt that there was some worth to throwing down my thoughts, whether on paper or on the screen, but to actually broadcast it and take the time of spiderbots is something else, I suppose.

I mean, who really gives a crap?

But then again, I've never meant this for public consumption.

It really makes a difference, to place your thoughts in an ultra-manipulable medium like hypertext. I can rearrange this crap in any sort of way that I want, digging out threads here and there. Things start to make sense in a coherent fashion. Hypertext is like the brain. You can form synapses (hyperlinks) here and there, all over the place at complete random, but it's only really functional when you've pruned them away, so that only the most important bits of information can flow down an unimpeded path.

You start seeing patterns that are impossible to see when you're stuck to the linear medium of a notebook, and you can't very well always spread out your notes into m x n blocks of binder paper.

This has always been for myself. I have to force myself to admit it. If I want to write, then it is all about me. And I suppose that all my life I have been afraid to accept the overweaning egocentrism that dwells deeply repressed in my soul.

l i n k s