Top Searches: And the Pride Goeth...

Perhaps what I choose to write about is superfluous.

These are my top search terms for the week, as recorded by Blogger Stats.  There are exactly eight that relate to topics I care about, and thought I had addressed in my admittedly confused and confusing style... but c'mon, readers are supposed to do a little work, too.

That's always been my belief.
Perhaps my belief is wrong.
Perhaps what I choose to write about is superfluous.

However, it is also true that I care too much.
I am beginning to write again for the pleasure of it.
I am beginning to feel the awakening of ugly hubris, pouty pride.

I recognize that I am confusing, and that I will label what I write as intricate, complicated, detailed, and demanding rather than spend the time to clean up my prose.

But, for the umpteenth time, I ask you: Whose blog is it, anyway?  
And, yes, I'll try to get this thin-skinned pride thing under control.

The one I really want to understand, though, is "neuron injera l'alcool." Any ideas?  If the searcher has become so enamored of my brilliant posts as to now be a regular Dear Reader, maybe s/he will leave me an explanatory comment?

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cibulkova ass
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crps
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dr. jose ochoa
dr. phil divorce
finally theme song
georges prosper remi
happy birthday carolina tarheel
hole ketamine 
http://xxxpornoestremis.com
illuminated s
jackson browne
jackson browne 2012
kama sutra
kamasutra
ketamine treatments stony brook hospital
laura becket
madeleine 
maroloinespike hall
monopoly game pieces
moulinsart
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naked veterinarian calendar
neuron injera l'alcool
oregon nerve centre ochoa
rashad evans
rashad evans house
rashad evans wallpaper
red
rsd
ruthie rader
serena black ass
soup nazi
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taiji
taiji dolphins
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thomas ravenel marrie
uglyiest
vit c crps
wal-marts
xxxsex pakistani

belle::position::amour -- the third incarnation

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At our Family Meeting last evening, held in the Haddock Clan's rendition of the Knoppenburg Manor* Stables, we voted to repost belle::position::amour for a third year, despite a barrage of online petitions from Change.org calling for its removal.

Although we've signed a fair number of Change.org petitions, usually with their authors breathing down our collective back, a quick Family Canvas showed that, au fond, we do not believe that "empower[ing] anyone, anywhere to start and win campaigns for social change" is altogether desirable.   Oh, put your tongue back in your mouth.

Mostly, though, the Family reasoned that keeping belle::position::amour might be the only way to remain statistically relevant in the blogosphere, since we continue to receive a good number of daily visits from searchers in politically and socially repressive countries, searching for the best ways to get it on.

Call it part of our Liberal Bias, call it What You Will, belle::position::amour is the star
 of our Outreach Program for Excellence.  Well, okay, it is second only to XXX Porn -- about which, surprisingly, we've received nary a petition.

* Knoppenburg Manor is, in fact, for sale. Sad that one of its key selling points is that this area of Belgium has "remained free
 from the threat of terrorist attacks." Our stable replica -- or "agricultural outbuilding" -- is a lovely place in which to relax, chat, contemplate -- at least on warm days. Built some time in the 16th century, the Manor Knoppenburg's charm is in its 
simplicity and enduring functionality. Make a bid!

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At 3:41 pm this afternoon, a visitor from Qatar dropped by. From far away Doha, Ad Dawhah, this person was steered here by their search engine: google.com.qa.

Like so many who have come before, tongues hanging out, my qatari friend was looking for "belle position amour."

We here at elle est belle la seine la seine elle est belle cannot let such a quizzical, and perhaps painful, cry pass unanswered.

Our first thought was the usual one -- throw the Kama Sutra at it. But really, if someone has resorted to googling sexual positions that are "belles" -- something more immediately accessible might be à propos.



And so the final consensus was to recommend the following:

Sex Deck: Playful Positions to Spice Up Your Love Life

by Dr. Dawn Harper

(Cards)
Buy new: $14.95
SALE @ Amazon: $10.17, Eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping on orders over $25;
You Save: $4.78 (32%)

[We heartily recommend investing in the NEW, for reasons of basic hygiene.]

Want it delivered Tuesday, October 11? Order it in the next 10 hours and 4 minutes, and choose One-Day Shipping at checkout!

To be honest, we are not familiar with Dr. Harper's book but love the idea of sex positions being put on cards -- very handy. Once you get to Amazon.com to check it out, there will be other books of the same ilk advertised on the page. Our feelings won't be in the least hurt should you choose another guidebook.

However, in the interest of quality control, it would be helpful to this website's management
if you would return to the comment section for this blog post to share
what position did, indeed, turn out to be very, very belle.


[cue music... dim lights...]




Sincerely,

La Bonne et Belle Bianca Castafiore

The Retired Educator

Fred

Sam-I-Am

Marmy

The Dobster

Uncle Kitty Big Balls

(the original signatories)




photo credit 1 -- that's **spooning**, people, **spooning**!
photo credit 2

Stymied by Ducks

Curiosity demands that I ask. 

Normally, this blog's major attraction, in terms of searches, is the photo of the bloody water in Taiji, from the senseless dolphin slaughter.  The photograph is not, of course, mine -- nonetheless, I get a rich number of hits from people looking for it here at elle est belle la seine la seine elle est belle.

After the Taiji photo, the object of visitors' ranking searches varies, but usually includes CRPS issues, and some aspects of recent postings.

When there is a surge of interest in something, usually a quick assessment of world news will account for it -- photos of the UConn women's b-ball team, mockery of Muammar Gaddafi, health care reform legislation, and so on.

Rarely, I'm stymied by the popularity of a specific post among searchers.

For example, starting yesterday at mid-morning, the new and surprising leader among post page views is... Anatidaephobia.

In itself, not that fascinating a development.

But add to that the fact that ALL of these searches originate from different computers in Colombia... and I'm hooked by the delight of a mystery!  So if anyone knows of a possible reason for the good folks in Bogota,  Medellìn,  Antioquia -- and four other originating cities in Colombia -- to have developed a sudden fascination with the psychology behind the pervasive fear of being watched by ducks, please let me in on it!

The Personal: Our Last Bastion

I am determined to trump my search engine.

I use Google, and, in general, love Google.  Being an investor, the health and happiness of Google is very important to my own wellbeing, and to that of my household, fond as we all are of shelter and regular meals, as well as to my persnickety creditors, insistent as they are on timely and complete payments. 

The interconnectedness we evidence shall serve as witness to the wondrousness of God's faithful creation!  Or something.

Sorry.  It's Sunday morning and I left the television on during my last nap session, which allowed Joel Osteen and other Smarty-Panted Religious Folk to tiptoe around my brain unsupervised.

Dangerous stuff, leading to weird wakeful convictions, like how Google may well be omnipotent.  Well, at least three-in-one.

It's become nigh*   unto impossible

[*  I suffered one of my usual distractions with the word "nigh," but can report that the most interesting return on my curiousity was learning that the oft-used comparative -- yes, that'd be nigher -- has been in force since the 1400s.  Mysteriously, The Erudite are convinced that there is no etymological relationship between the adjective in its evolved form (near) and that form's comparative, nearer.  Crazy stuff, huh?]

Okay, so it's getting hard to enter any search term without Google cracking wise and "suggesting" it before I finish pecking the letters out.  I fear that, eventually, out of self-defense, the lacunae of my vocabulary will be filled with short words and small expressions.

Challenged at such an elementary level of my ontological being, I am now engaged in a challenge: 

Rather than seeking to be as concise as possible in my search requests, I am now wordy.  Early frustrations have even prompted my wordiness to contain misspellings.  Most of which Holy Google manages to catch.  And for which, frequently, feigning indifference, Godly Google suggests corrections!  Oy.

I can't be the only one to have noticed that The Personal has assumed a position of prominence in the face of technology.  We litter Facebook with our particulars, we stick our tongues out (nyah, nyah, na-na-na!), we're united in false friendships based on homonyms -- we rape proper nouns, forcing our intimate meanings upon them.  I tell Facebook to find my friend Joe Smith*   and what tops the list of "over 500" that it returns is one Joel-with-a-middle-initial, because this person is a mutual friend of someone completely unknown to me.

*  The first haphazard Joe Smith, as I know no actual Joe Smith, is represented by a photo of a person, face hooded and mostly blocked.  Blocked by a big handgun from Winston-Salem, North Carolina, the barrel of which is trained on all 1854 of its closest friends.  [All of which goes to support my ongoing suspicions about persons from that state.  See my editorial reflections introducing the blog post Shawnna's Con.]

The Personal is bound to become our Good News, bound to eventually so muck up the informational machinery that even Google's error rate at reading our minds will skyrocket.  My Mother's maiden name?  Your last four?  Her favorite erotica?  Joel-with-a-middle-initial's preferred handgun?  * Aunt Eugenia's taste in college roomies?

*  We hear this as we wake: Ah! je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir.
We hear this as we fall asleep: Ah! je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir.

The Personal, The Last Bastion!  I wanted to clue you in, Dearest Readers, to the Upcoming Paradigm
Shift.

Of course, the Upcoming Paradigm Shift will be delayed a few days.  Don't expect much in the way of movement from The People's Brigade before Thursday, October 14, 2010 -- when Google makes its earnings announcement.  We're thinking there should be a few days' allowance for additional fluctuations in the market, as well.

FAIL Blog

there are things that just should not be.

someone entering the following searches should not be directed to this piece-of-fluff, navel-gazing blog:

CRPS + facial pain
new wheelchair
laxative XXXporn**
andrea gianopoulos lancaster pa*
andrea gianopoulos and laura beckett, ketamine kills*
scott reuben
tennis undies
severe bras
xxxporn**
belle sex positions**
rsd/crps law suits
fear fire famine foes
crps rsds cure
amputation cures rsd
marqueterie fraud
boobs whishes
lindsey baum
mrsa and paralyzation
crps 10 pain
laura beckett*
rsd on fire
gambling your heart away near the seine
i know where lindsey baum is
wheelchair lift honda
what kind of cancer killed leslie scalapino

and the one that prompted this failed post, in this failed blog -- the one that logged in at 3:03 in the morning, some woman, some man, sitting, nursing a cup of cold, burnt coffee, elbows propped on that red formica dinette table, long in the family, forehead damp from humidity, not heat, god damn it:

doctors in sedalia missourri that takes wellcare

*Months after posting about Andrea, her father and sister wrote me, very angry. In their eyes, I defamed her and said hateful things. They were very hurt by what I wrote, and reminded me how little I actually knew about her, her life, and her death. I have left the posts untouched but want to acknowledge their deep and abiding pain at seeing her name in a silly blog maintained by a silly blogger. Good things will continue to be born through their daughter, their sister, by virtue of the work she did, and the example she set. And Laura Beckett? I wait in pregnant silence for some lecture or outburst about my rude insinuations... but the lectures and the outbursts never come, and that only seals the seams of my knowledge, that only leaves her in unresolved expectancy, that only means she gambled, and she's been punished. I hope to hear of her dancing her way out of the rehab center one day, pain free. More selfishly, I hope the ketamine coma is perfected, and proves to be a real, accessible answer.

**Okay, so I find that kind of... tittilating. La Bonne et Belle Bianca Castafiore, Fred, and The Four-Now-Three Felines cannot stop their giggles, and -- very strangely -- keep checking themselves out in the Roman mirror of blown glass coated with molten lead, that serves as a sort of night light for the passageway to The Laundry Suites. The thing dates from the first century AD and we've no idea how The Captain's family got their sticky little hands on it. Undoubtedly it involved stuff like "swashbuckling," and "booty." I still don't know how to clean it... but have watched enough Antique Roadshow to know that leaving it as is is probably the best thing. Should you know the proper cleaners to use on first century AD Roman mirrors? Leave me a note.

But I digress (because sometimes, most times, that's all I know to do).


[a slightly revamped repost]