I have been reading blogs a long time. And I’ve been writing for a long time too.
Today at the IndieWeb pop up event focused on writing I had reason to remember when I got linked to on Boing Boing. It a list of links I had collated, but it was to my old blog url format, when I was still using Blogger.com via FTP to post. The url was: https://boingboing.net/blogosphere.html and it’s still there. Just a bit broken.
The link that page links to is https://artlung.com/blog/-2003_02_01_archive.php#89271672. And that link still works because at some point I added a redirect to the .htaccess file on my site to tell my webserver, Apache, to send requests like that elsewhere. RedirectMatch permanent /blog/-([0-9]{4})_([0-9]{2})_([0-9]{2})_archive.php https://artlung.com/blog/$1/$2/ is how that looks.
Link rot haunts many of my posts.
I don’t remember listening to the audio cast of the file that is referred to on that page, the link is broken. I’ve asked the Internet Archive account on Mastodon where it might be. I’m curious to hear it after all this time.
I loved that trip to L.A.
Here are the posts from that: Blogosphere Part 1: From San Diego to Los Angeles, Blogosphere Part 2: Musings/Blogosphere, Lots of Links on Blogosphere and Google Buying Pyra and Blogger
During today’s writing event I mentioned re-reading and finding writing that second-guesses itself. Cringe, I suppose one might call it. Here’s the bit that stands out to me now:
A sweet older Japanese woman is complaining of the cold on the train. The cute (well, I assume they’re cute, I’ve not seen them from the front) Japanese girls drop out of Japanese and into English to commiserate with her.
Hmmm. Am I racist to immediately call any Japanese girl “cute.” It probably is. Not a negative stereotype. Well, maybe negative in the sense that I limit my ability to understand someone else fully. But not negative like a lot of racism.
It’s funny, I want to delete that last paragraph. But I’m leaving it in. Yeah. Leaving it in.
I hadn’t planned to write stream-of-consciousness all the way to Los Angeles, but that’s the way it’s turning out. It becomes hard to imagine anyone reading this. There’s no editing to speak of. There’s only masses of words and thoughts as I progress.
I like that instinct I have to share my whole self. So far it’s not hurt me too much, or at least that I can tell. I suspect that I’ve had employers think twice about hiring me after being exposed to my blog. Maybe. But it’s hard to know.
I enjoy writing. I enjoy thinking. And this is where I do it.
