The point of this blog is to post stuff.

I hoard information. I learn shit, marinate my brain in it, and then … nothing. I could be a great writer, if only I didn’t keep things to myself. Blame the fear of scrutiny. Blame an ego that likes to know more than the next. I just don’t get shit out of my head.

The goal of this blog, then, is to typeset that hoarded information and share it with whomever. The content will be compiled as notebooks, based on research that I’ve done on subjects that interest me. If people read it, that’s fine. If they don’t, that’s fine too.

My first notebook will cover Tibetan beer.

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I assumed that backing up my website onto a laptop computer would copy and save everything: the heart in my writing, the entrails of reader comments, the bare-bones design. So when the hosting service asked whether I was ready to delete my files from its hard drives, I clicked yes.

I didn’t mean to wipe out the three years of publication stored in that database. I didn’t mean to spare the replaceable framework. But that’s what I did: I erased the essential and preserved the disposable. And there was nothing I could do about it.

I may have screamed—the panic is a blur now. I definitely cursed: at myself Fuck me! the computer Fuck you! nothing in particular Fuckity fuck fuck fuck! back to me Dumb fuck! You just flushed everything down the toilet! Everything is gone!

And that’s when a soothing self-awareness embraced me. I had sacrificed flesh and spirit to that website, yet six years had passed since I looked at it. In that time the flesh had healed. The spirit moved on. The website—and the burden of being it—were gone with one mouse click. It was a joy to create, but a greater relief to obliterate.

I’m free now to take on new shape and form. Good times, good times!