Posthuman Blues

I just checked the website counter for my Mars site. So far today (Monday), I've received 2511 hits, the vast majority in the last couple hours due to Rense.com headlining my story about the D&M Pyramid (see previous post). I'm actually afraid that I might exceed this month's allocated data transfer if this deluge of visitors keeps up.

More significantly, I'm receiving some interesting email. Physicist Bernard Haisch wrote to ask why I thought the new image of the D&M Pyramid was evidence of artificiality. Haisch finds the D&M too "irregular" to be anything but a natural formation. I reminded him that Earth's surface is home to plenty of "irregular" structures known to be artificial, such as various "earthworks" left by Mound Builders. Why the interplanetary double-standard? Granted, we don't yet know if there are extraterrestrial artifacts on Mars, but that's what the Artificiality Hypothesis seeks to find out.

I went walking around 10:30 after a day of staring into my computer screen. The Plaza was virtually abandoned. I stopped by a coffee shop, bought an espresso, and wandered, really enjoying the cool air and the unmistakable red glow of Mars leering overhead. A fat woman, who I suspect might be homeless, was sitting on a white plastic milk crate outside Pottary Barn and Barnes & Noble playing a gratingly bad rendition of "New York, New York" on a saxophone. Apparently passersby were expected to give her money for performing this unsolicited service.

I actually like most of the street musicians here, but I always feel a vague pang of jealousy when I see the dollar bills heaped inside their guitar cases; why I can't I receive tips for, say, writing? Or reading a good book? I should buy a fold-up chair, park myself outside Starbucks, boot up my laptop and put a "tip jar" on the ground. How bohemian.

This just in . . .

I had made a link to "www.pottarybarn.com" above, strictly for the hell of it. When I tested it, I was directed to a porn site. (Seriously; try it yourself!) Interior decorating . . . wild sex. I don't get the connection. The last time I was in Pottary Barn things were pretty sedate. Lots of furniture but no naked 18 year-old girls. It must be some sort of zoning ordinance.

Wait! I can explain!

I just ran a Google search to figure out how to access Pottery Barn's site. I had misspelled "pottery"! Maybe "pottary" (note the incorrect "a" as opposed to "e") has some alternate meaning that I'm not aware of. (Juxtaposed with "barn," I'm not sure I want to know . . .) My best guess is that the porn site's author chose the domain name to dupe trendy would-be interior decorators. As a former Art minor, I feel pretty damned stupid for not knowing the correct spelling off the top of my head. Then again, I actually managed to fail Pottery. But that's another story.