Posts Tagged ‘websites’

If Proust Had Blogged

I wonder if he would have gotten all the pitches for keyword placement to improve his blog’s Google ratings?  Would people actually try to sell him something and open with, “Your content is decent but you need a keyword in every sentence” ?  Would he, the writer who would often amuse himself by having one shimmeringly complex sentence spanning almost two dense pages about, for example, how an espalliered rose bush looked as the sun went down, or how his heart broke because of Albertine, have looked at the webpage about said keyword program which was advertised as free but in fact could only be tried for a dollar a day prior to paying the reduced $XXX,XXXXYOUNAMEIT know-me fee, have decided instead, in the name of seeking fame and fortune,  to do something like:

“The rosebush glimmered in the fading light;  the rosebush, which was a rosebush, stood against a wall-the wall was there for the rosebush to climb on (a rosebush being a plant that likes to climb up trellises against walls, which are made just for a rosebush, against walls for rosebush(es))  because a rosebush looks good against a wall.”  And so on.

Then, tagging it something clever like ROSEBUSH, be thrilled out of his mind by seeing his Google ranking go up to between 2 and 5 for a week?  Not to mention experiencing the sheer Joy of Good Investment at paying for some “SEO Program”, which feeling  he would relish in bed in his cork lined room? Thinking, perhaps, BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I, PROUST! HAVE MADE ANOTHER PERSON RICHER FOR NO ACTUAL REASON AND MY GOOGLE RANKING, WHICH HASN’T  ACTUALLY DONE A THING FOR ME, IS STILL AT FOUR AFTER THREE WEEKS!  MAGNIFIQUE!  LET ME PAY MORE! TRES SIMPLE! THE HELL WITH ACTUAL CONTENT, GIVE ME KEYWORDS OR GIVE ME…er…STRAWBERRIES! DON’T HOLD THE CREAM CHEESE, EITHER!

I am just wondering, is all.  I mean, would Proust have decided that people were so absolutely brain dead that they couldn’t figure out what anything was about without being bludgeoned by some single word repeated ad paragrapham?  Would he have just chucked it all, Remembrance Be Damned, because it was too hard not to use all the many other words that crowded out through his pen and refused to be corralled by mere grammar or the hope that someone would know their meaning? So that he would get views of his blog, which would lead either to blank stares or the much to be hoped-for advertising revenue?  Which he would need because his writing would have gone to the dogs because he didn’t have enough time left over after dragging for keywords to actually compose anything else. And he’d have to pay for all that Optimization somehow.  To keep things going like usual, so he could keep paying ever higher prices for everything and keep his anxiety at bay by comforting himself with the brilliance of his SEO program?

Ah, well.  I believe it was Horace who said you should always keep your hook baited because you never know in which pool the fish will turn up, or words more elegantly to that effect.  It just seems to me that lately we have a whole lot more hooks than we have fish.  Fish are being downright concussed by the sheer volume of hooks being tossed their way- a lot of them without bait, either.   It’s all very interesting, really. Now, if you’ll excuse me, back to Proust.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

OK.  I think I may Officially Have Had It Today.   I’m too tired even to step on the screaming doormat (from Halloween originally, but, in my house? a permanent fixture).  

I have, let’s see….internet poisoning? computer cramps? topical website dermatitis?  I had no idea, when I started my business, that things were going to be like this so often.  Crashes and Burns about which, seemingly, Nothing Can Be Done.  I did a routine check on my website today…well, back up.  I “do” it myself because I can’t afford to pay someone else to do it.  Right there is a HUUUUUUUUGE issue.  So, I do the check, and lo and behold, THE SHOPPING PAGE can’t be connected to.  Bad link.  To shopping page.  Bravely, I called the web host.  Now, if any of you gentle readers are web hosts?  A note to you.   Don’t ever, not ever, never never say to someone: You’re the only one having this problem.  I knew it wasn’t going to go well when they almost refused to talk to me because the answer to my secret question is the name of an individual (famous) of whom the service rep was blitheringly unaware.  Then, the ever delightful, well, it’s working on OUR end.  Having wised up after 18 months on my own, I said I doubted that very much indeed. Another check on their end produced the information that, gosh, well, it ISN”T working on our end.  What’s another 20 minutes on hold listening to that blasted music, anyway?  To be told, we don’t know what’s wrong.  And really,  I loved this part.  Not only don’t we know what’s making this happen, it’s just a random quirk on YOUR PARTICULAR SYSTEM ONLY.  Righty-o.  Once again, that bullseye that got pasted on me at birth has done its job.  Out of the myriad websites these people host, only mine has this peculiar glitch.  That severs my shopping page from any reality, cyber or otherwise.  Not to worry, though.  We’ll get back to you in 48 hours, they said.  Gosh, thanks.  Boy do I feel better!!

So, having completed my work there, I went on.   Not having the sense God gave geese I thought, well let’s see if we can get something accomplished today! Yee haw!  I had been putting off purchasing some supplies online and decided to do it today.  However.  I had forgotten my password, couldn’t create a new record because they already had my email, and waited all afternoon for the supposedly re-emailed password so I could complete my transaction today.   But, no.  So, tomorrow we get to suit up and do it all over again.   Then, not having had quite enough fun, I decided to look and see if an article I recently submitted to..hah!…another website had been accepted.  No.  The great thing about this is, when you hit “save” on this site, the whole thing disappears.  Apparently it is submitted then.  I, foolishly, was thinking I’d have time to copy it to my disk, but, sorry.  Gonzo.  Since I don’t remember what I called it I can’t even track it.

So, I don’t know about you, but I’m heading for the wine.  Cheery bye.