Off to work Saturday morning, in for what I hope is a full day of looking at charts, and trying to translate that in English, or, at the very least, a common language we can all understand.
Accesses per Hour
Hour Accesses
01:00 9,135
02:00 11,540
All I can suggest is that ya’ll are up a lot later than I am.
Found this on the web, a link to a guy I’ve been linked to for years. A good astrologer, and someone who’s helped blaze the path for us outlaw types.
Unrelated links, “Visor Cam #1, Visor Cam #3, and Visor Cam #4.” In there someplace, is a couple of shots of this stuff I remember getting in a urinary contest with an editor about, I just tend to call it {{popup mustangv.jpg mustangv 320×240}}”Mustang Vine.” Don’t have a clue to what that plant really is.
Subscription information
By now, the word is out about Salon being on the brink of financial ruin.
Thursday sometime between 12 AM and 2 AM in the morning, my site averaged ten thousand page views per hour for two hours. Late night surf? Catching the latest update? Whatever. The numbers don’t lie, but I’m beginning to wonder about what the readers are expecting.
A subscription-based model offends me. In fact, buying music or books online bothers me, but then, I have good access to a noble, if somewhat leaking, flagship of a bookstore, arguably the largest independent bookstore in Texas. Then there’s a handful of good music stores, sort of a toss up between Waterloo and Cheapo Discs [914 N Lamar Blvd>. Plus there’s the new age bookstore, also a wonderful place. However, at three in the morning, when I’m looking for specific title, one I know probably won’t be in any local inventory, sure, I’ll hit Amazon. Then there’s my growing collection of Shakespeare DVD’s. No place but the web for those oddball films. [I’m still looking for 12th Night, as a matter of fact.>
A friend of a friend, knew someone who used to write for Salon, back in the salad days. Made a lot more money than I did, for a column with a lot less heart, a little less cat, and no astrology prognostications.
The nut I can’t crack, the basic problem, the business model, or whatever it’s called. The way I look at it, all that traffic isn’t netting enough income. Several of the smaller weekly newspapers, the “alternative press,” have closed – it’s not like that’s a paying option to begin with.
I spent some time thinking about it all as I trudged around the trail in a torpid summer heat, the ground still a little steamy from the previous evening’s rain. Rain was nice. Walking – felt like swimming – in the summer’s heat wasn’t quite as nice.
I finished reading a book a while back, and I was thinking about some of the subplot, a little aside about monster, sort a Texas version of Yeti, and maybe therein lies the answer.
Two highpoints for the day, one was just struggling unsuccessfully with software that’s supposed to automate a task, and generate a beautiful page layout for handling the three hundred plus digital images I have archived. I just got a handle on how to manage a decade and a half of astrology columns, all those pictures? I’m still wrestling. The other highpoint? A quick chuckle, “Dude, how do you spell ’69’ in Roman Letters?”
LXIX.
