The Great Collapsing Toward Simplicity

When I first started this site I developed several custom taxonomies and delivered posts to the front page through complicated scripts. It was pretty, and kinda useful, but hard to maintain.

I’ve been moving away from that scheme for quite sometime. I’m simplifying things and will shortly end up with a predictable site more inline with users’ expectations.

After I publish this post I’m going collapse all my non-poem posts into a single blog category. Some time after that I’ll remove the spider web of poetry categories; the old drafts, the multiple versions, and shit. I’ll be moving notes and acknowledgments out of the Post Information subfooter, and eventually remove it altogether.

This will probably have no effect on anyone, as most readers see my stuff through aggregators. But for a bit after this Collapsing links will be broken, styles screwy, and navigation unpredictable. It should settle down after a while.

UPDATE
It’s over. Took me all day. Crashed my database several time, I wasn’t expecting that. Thought I’d lost everything for a while, but I managed to coax it back. I think I’m going to hold off for a while on the rest, it gets a bit tricky, and scary.

So now I have four categories: Poems, Blog, Podcast, and Uncategorized. Which presents some problems, my stories, where they go now? I’ve stuck some of them into Poems, and I’m sure there are some hanging out in Blog. Maybe I should collapse everything further into one category, hell, when you’ve been poet-ing as long as I have, everything is a poem. I’m not sure where the line lies. I suspect there is no line. I suspect every thought and every action is a poem.

I’m logging off now, tired of thinking.

On Wes Anderson

A friend described The Grand Budapest Hotel thusly:

I liked it. At first I thought this is very dumb. After 15 min I was involved and had to watch the rest. It was strange and sad.

That’s a perfect review.
Wes Anderson is like that. Like, always. There’s that off-putting first impression, then an uncomfortable acquaintanceship, and before you know it that oddball has won you over.
And bittersweet, that man does bitter sweet like no one else.
Do you laugh, do you cry, do you run a marathon?

Fuck you, I’m a poet.

I made this a long time ago, but other than hiding it at the bottom of my sidebar, never publicized it. Buy buy buy.

"Fuck you, I'm a poet." on Zazzle.
Buy the Be Not Meek pin by Franklyn Monk on Zazzle.