I mentioned on Facebook: my poor little iPhone 5S camera died earlier this year. The phone itself works, no cracks in the screen or other damage beyond cosmetic, but I’m pretty sure the cats played “Let’s knock things on the floor” with it, because one day it worked, the next it didn’t. And since I put it on my nightstand when I went to sleep and it was on the floor when I awoke, I don’t think I’m too far-fetched in my assumption.
I could’ve dusted for paw-prints, but after Feline CSI, then what? Cats get punished, human gets retribution via hairballs-in-the-shoes, soon enough it escalates into a living nightmare where cybernetic zombie monkey armies are hunting down sentients for the battery banks and atheistic anarchic road-warriors are raping and pillaging in the streets, all while the inhuman chthonic eye-moon watches balefully as civilization collapses.
It’s just a phone, people. It’s not that important!
But it is….
Warning: this blog post was extremely difficult to write, and took a while to make it into words. I started writing this on Wednesday, September 9th, and I’m just pressing publish now.
Before I continue, I want to be clear that I’m not sympathy-gathering. I’m not trying to blame people. I’m not trying to compete in a “my life is so hard” contest. I’m just looking to heal, so I’m sharing a story, a long story. This is an overview of everything, and there are some painful memories. I’ve shared parts of these stories with people, but I don’t know who knows the whole story, other than myself.
Feel free to skip this post if you don’t want to deal with it, I will categorize this post and any posts directly related to it as “Painful Stuff” so you can easily identify them. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go through this. But I need to. End of warning.
I would’ve posted something yesterday, but all interesting thoughts were driven out of my head by the accidental discovery of a workable way to play my existing PlayStation 1 games on my Mac.
So, I leave this website alone for a couple of years….
Let me start again. In the past, I wrote in this website at least once a day for six or seven years. I’ve migrated it twice, changed engines powering it three or four times, changed the host three times, and I have backups of backups….
So why do I not have all the pages I remember having, once upon a time?
Am I really going that crazy? Or did I just think I got to these things and never did?
So, I’m playing around with this default theme a little, first online until I started wanting to reposition things, now with an offline copy, and it just dawned on me – it’s using HTML 5.
These posts are
<article> tagged, and the menu items are
The header is actually a
<header>, and the footer is a
I want to weep. (Note to self: get the emoticons back.)
When I purchased this domain and arranged my first webhost, the Internet was a place of fun and play, a hobby for people as they stretched their minds. From rather simple online games, to gathering and correlating self-published articles, to strange crackpots’ conspiracy theories, the Internet was a strange and wonderful place, akin to wandering into a back-alley coffee shop on or near any university.
Now, it’s become a marketplace. Everyone has ads covering every spare pixel of screen space. Some sites, you can’t tell the ads from the content, and even if you can tell the content from the ads, there are such liberal sprinklings of “endorsements” and other product placements, that the content is a secondary or tertiary concern.