Yesterday I wrote four pieces. And I posted the first two on my Residua website without any difficulty. They appeared in the listing of pieces written this year just like all the others written before. But the second two would not. I posted them without any problem, and they can be found by searching the World Wide Web, but they do not show up in the listing. The first one I erased and posted again, but it would not appear in the listing once again. At first I was pretty confused about the unexpected problem, but then I realized that the third piece must be the one-thousandth written this year. I checked my records, and this was indeed the case. The listing must be limited to less than one-thousand pieces, which was fine so far. I immediately wrote to Paul Bazay, who manages my site from Calgary, Canada, but he seems not to be available. As luck would have it, it was weekend. My all-time record of more than one-thousand pieces written in a single year will thus have to wait a while longer to be trumpeted to all and sundry. Assuming the limit on the number of pieces in the listing can be changed without much ado, of course. A brave assumption, too.

Addendum I (November 15, 2011)

A brave assumption, indeed. Although this is the third day into my website’s problem with listing of my writings, there is no telling when it will be solved, if at all. My writings can be posted without any difficulty, and they can also be found by searching the World Wide Web, but they do not show up at the site. In short, they can be found only by sheer chance. Paul has responded to one of my many anxious electronic-mail messages, but the listing of pieces posted this year is still incomplete. And ever more so as days go by. So far, he has not given me even a hint of what has gone wrong. Thus I feel ever more confused. Nay, exasperated. No doubt, my writing is too important to me. Way too important. What is worse, for dissemination of my writings I depend on a technology I barely understand any longer. It is entirely out of my reach. I have painted myself into a nasty corner, and I see no way out of it. Cornered, I am liable to do something silly.

Addendum II (November 19, 2011)

It has been a full week already. Seven days entire. Paul is not responding to my ever more pitiful entreaties while my website looks forgotten and abandoned. Destitute. And I am gradually turning to fantasizing about the good old times. Papyrus. Cured hides. Ceramic and stone tablets. Stories told around the fireplace. Fuck modern technology. Fuck electricity. Last but far from least, fuck the World Wide Web.