Much of my recent writing has been done under a nom de clavier. Hardly worth mentioning, then, is it? But oh-so mysterious.
I have started contributing to Raise the Hammer, a site devoted to civic issues in Hamilton, Ontario.
... such as the one on which I spout forth or point out things of interest, which is called Moyle View and which is now begun from scratch after a hard-drive-obliterating thunderstorm;
... or the one on which I post some of my photos and talk about them a bit, the similarly named Moyle View - A Photoblog and which was also fried and is also out of commission;
... and then there's the one I use for posting problems and solutions and tips to do with programming and system administration, which is not a really diary, but is nevertheless called Diary of a Sysadmin.
Much of my web juvenalia is - as deceny demands- deleted or otherwise gone. But I've kept a few bits around. Partly as monuments to the web that was and partly because, self-deprecation aside, some of the bits are not too bad.
May 18th, 1996
The Celestine Prophecy has perched near the top of the New York Times best-sellers list for the better part of two years, and has apparently inspired thousands of people.... all this despite the fact that it's complete pap. There has to be something going on when such a stunningly bad excuse for a novel, consisting of little more than basic self-help and indistinct new-age spirituality pasted clumsily onto an irrelevant framework of dull narrative, catches the public imagination so. I offer you, the enquiring wwwreader, my amateur analysis of this puzzling phenomenon.
September 29th, 1996
My opinions of The Celestine Prophecy have not gone unchallenged. Oh no; far from it. In fact, dozens of Redfield's followers have leapt to his defense, dismantling my arguments with brutal logic, biting wit and penetrating philosophical insight. For your edification, I've compiled some of my more cogent critiques.
March 8, 1998
Once upon a time, in the midst of what I hoped was a personal spriritual crisis, I began writing a set of pages which I called Atheists Anonymous, an imaginary support group for theistically-minded atheists and recovering agnostics. It might now be better called AAA, Apathetic Atheists Anonymous, because I didn't so much get over things as I did lose interest in dissecting every fibre and nerve of my epi-epiphany. I leave the pages up as a memorial to a fondly remembered fancy.
Back in early 1995, I decided to let you, the aggregate network citizen, pick my new image. The votes collected from the Electronic Barbershop page have been compiled, analyzed, fretted over and duly tampered with, and the results of this ill-fated experiment in democratic coiffure are now available for the small (but surprisingly non-zero) number of people who care.