Satisfying an itch I've had for a while, I am working on migrating the back end of pilch.me from Known back to Wordpress. I love Known, but this has been a long time coming. It's probably my own fault for migrating 6 weeks before becoming a new dad (and taking on more at work), but I thought I would have more time to familiarize myself with the inner workings of the platform, to tinker and break things and fix them. I decidedly did not, so I'm heading back to the familiarity of Wordpress.
When I initially migrated, Known had a lot of the Indieweb elements baked in (webmention, early micropub, post formats, etc), and the WP plugins lagged a bit behind. Now they are caught up, while Known development has slowed significantly. I feel a bit like part of the problem, since I'm not sticking with it. But I also do not currently have the time nor patience to figure out how to modify mySQL elements, or maintain URL rewrite rules and .htaccess files. I need to step back into a platform where I don't have to worry about nuts and bolts, and customizing basic/intermediate elements is taken care of in a GUI.
I'm doing the migration manually, post by post. Known exported as RSS, and I was able to import that to start (WP's built-in RSS importer threw errors, so I had to use this). This method created a lot of formatting issues with line feeds, lists, etc., which is why I am doing each post individually. This gives me a chance to review some old posts I forgot about, and also the ability to idly update posts during down time at work (the network there is extremely locked down, and would not allow external SSH/FTP connections).
The current WP install is at blog.pilch.me. I'll probably keep the Known install, and figure out a subdomain for that when I am ready to switch the two.
In many ways, Gamergate is an almost perfect closed-bottle ecosystem of bad internet tics and shoddy debating tactics. Bringing together the grievances of video game fans, self-appointed specialists in journalism ethics, and dedicated misogynists, it's captured an especially broad phylum of trolls and built the sort of structure you'd expect to see if, say, you'd asked the old Fires of Heaven message boards to swing a Senate seat. It's a fascinating glimpse of the future of grievance politics as they will be carried out by people who grew up online.
The day after "Endless Appetizers" was announced, I went to TGI Friday's in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Sheepshead Bay. I wanted to challenge the hubris of a company co-opting the infinite for a marketing gimmick. I wanted to demand accountability from copywriters.
I wanted to call their bluff and eat appetizers until they kicked me out, to seek the limit of this supposedly limitless publicity stunt.
But no matter what my relationship to Pokémon is now, I can’t deny that it was one of the driving forces in my nerdy life. And like any fanboy or girl who has ever played the original games, Pokémon was singular in that it provided me the first life-altering choice in my young life: Which of the starting Pokémon—Squirtle, Charmander, or Bulbasaur—should I pick? It felt like a digital “Sophie’s Choice,” with any decision rendering two Pokémon forever un-catchable, destined to be used against me by my rival.
...We can’t all be grand visionaries. We can’t all be Picassos. We want to make our business, make our art, sell it, make some money, raise a family, and try to be happy. My feeling, based on my own experience, is that aiming for grandiosity is the fastest route to failure. For every Mark Zuckerberg, there are 1000 Jack Zuckermans. Who is Jack Zuckerman? I have no idea. That’s my point. If you’re Jack Zuckerman and you’re reading this, I apologize. You aimed for the stars and missed. Your reentry into the atmosphere involved a broken heat shield, and you burned to a crisp by the time you hit the ocean. Now we have no idea who you are.
You can't restart the internet. Trillions of dollars depend on a rickety cobweb of unofficial agreements and "good enough for now" code with comments like "TODO: FIX THIS IT'S A REALLY DANGEROUS HACK BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WRONG" that were written ten years ago. I haven't even mentioned the legions of people attacking various parts of the internet for espionage and profit or because they're bored. Ever heard of 4chan? 4chan might destroy your life and business because they decided they didn't like you for an afternoon, and we don't even worry about 4chan because another nuke doesn't make that much difference in a nuclear winter.
BEST NEWS OF THE YEAR THAT CANNOT BE TOPPED, EVEN IF I WAS AWARDED THE POWERBALL JACKPOT BY A RECENTLY-RESURRECTED J. H. CHRIST
A healthy baby Pilch is on the way. It's a boy.
Hey, there's a St. Vincent in the music and movie section! Not pictures or articles though. Maybe next year.↩
I've already declared that we are a Lego Movie family. Not a Frozen family.↩
I didn’t listen to Is This It until after I had heard Room On Fire. That means I have no hipster cred, and was not fully aware of the hype surrounding both (but primarily the first) at the time. Much like the Grantland review, I have days where I think the latter is better than the former. But damn, it does not get much better than the simplistic beauty of tracks 2-4, or 1-8, or hell, the whole debut album of The Strokes.
I was hooked. I have bought all the albums since then, on release day. I bought most of the solo albums, and listened to the rest online. It’s how I was able to recognize Little Joy (Fab!) when it appeared in a VW commercial. It’s the reason I don’t understand why it is cool to hate The Strokes.
Music journalism has a nebulous goal: to translate the sonic and aesthetic qualities of a musical work or group into the written medium, which inherently cannot convey all of said qualities. And the world (from America’s perspective) was in a weird place after 9/11 (understatement like that deserves its own font). So that world simultaneously embraced NYC rock saviors and revolted against the hype machine that built itself around them. As Spin put forth, what would Is This It have been like in the age of Twitter? It might have still been polarizing, but I still feel like I would fall into the same camp.
As of right now, I have “All The Time” stuck in my head. “Tap Out” is interesting, and my favorite is “Welcome To Japan.” All in all, it is a good album, and it is a Strokes album. I am holding out hope that they will do more now that they have fulfilled their RCA contract, and that this album was just to be done with that (no fanfare? stock demo logo as album art?). I guess what I am trying to say is: Hi, I’m pilch, and I am a Strokes fan. [hi pilch] I’ve been a Strokes fan for roughly 10 years. I don’t really care about the next 11 steps in the process, I just needed to get that out there.
I am battling with how to write a #blog post without dropping into the mundane details of everyday life. It is something we have all become aware of with the rise in social media. There are people that inherently know how to use it, and there are people who do not. It is an ongoing internal struggle for me to grok this. It is probably why I started this blog.
I don't think I've ever been that guy that puts up 14 pictures of the omelet he just made for breakfast. And that is not just a "do unto others..." thing; it mostly stems from the feeling that I don't have much important to say. I don't text friends or family out of the blue, even really good friends. I'm good at returning email, but not initiating the conversation.
So, before this post ends up eating itself, get to the point. That is why this blog was started. See if inspiration can be wrung from the person described above. Or, not even inspiration -- just content. Balancing sparse entries with insight. Learning to make fingers type sentence good. Creating.
This is all very new to me. But this seems like a good landing point for thoughts and aspirations and observations and GIFs of dogs.
My name is Pilch. I believe myself to be a coder, but I rarely do it. I enjoy technology, sports, and humor. I have a wife and a puppy whom I love very much. You will be hearing more from me in the future.