The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Thursday, March 28, 2002

A Google Bombing variant?

Spring has been looking for a program that will scan the webserver log files for pages served up by search engines—obstensibly for Disturbing Search Requests. She hasn't found any, so today I quickly wrote one up for her.

The odd thing I noticed though, as I watched her use the program on her site and my site and my blog is that my blog has way more search requests than hers does.

In fact, going over the three largest sites on this server (www.springdew.com, www.conman.org and boston.conman.org) that my blog/online journal here averages about twice the search requests as the other sites. I think that has something to do with the way this site works. Google (just to pick a search engine) will have indexed the same entry about five times—once on main page, once for day, once for the month, once for the year (don't want to bog down the server needlessly for that example) and once for itself.

I'm not sure how much that affects the final ranking of a particular page since they're all intrasite links but it does have to skew the results somehow. Somehow it feels like I'm Google Bombing my own site with my own site.


The 1812 Overture, on 11, as sung by squirrels.

I am not a morning person. I also tend to be a rather heavy sleeper. Mix these two things together and you have one person that is hard to wake up at times.

Lord knows my Dad has tried. He's tried John Phillips Sousa. He's tried Richard Wagner. He's even tried the 1812 Overture at eleven and that still failed to wake me up (what did work, however, was the Frozen Wash Cloth to the Face Method, and the Dump Me in Snow Method but those are not as effective as they were since he now lives in Palm Springs, California).

Spring found this out as she was trying to wake me up. She found some rather unconventional music in an attempt to wake me up. She finally shook me awake and I found the rather unconventional music more amusing than annoying or loud (give it a listen—the squirrel could use some money).

There is one type of music that I find so truely annoying that it would wake me up rather quickly, but of course I'm not going to mention what that is.

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