You know what we haven't talked about yet this year? The Novemblog stats. Also, as a note to those who don't read linearly, my battery has now dropped to 9 minutes. This will become relevant later, sort of. Well, it will be relevant, but it certainly won't be important. Its relevance will only be because I mention it. I am a god among my blog's content. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair. Anyway, we should go ahead and talk about the Novemblog statistics so I can make sure I'm doing right by you guys in terms of word counts and the like.
Returning readers to the Novemblog experience (Are you Novemsperienced?) remember that around this time of year, I tend to do at least one post about statistics for the month thus far. Usually it ends up being around the fifteenth, which I suppose is when I tend to lose motivation much of the time (although this month I was either talking about P.T., which was an okay post, I guess, or about how "It's Thanksgiving" is really a retelling of Lord of the Flies, which I thought was a pretty solid post).
However, having missed a few posts and with the Thanksgiving holiday approaching (meaning that I'll have minimal wireless internet access and will thus be on my phone and have little access to word counter software, potentially leading to shorter posts), I wanted to take stock of the situation. So, without further ado, here are some important tidbits- well, useful bits of information- well, true- stories- well, okay, fine, facts. Their importance, utility, and veracity may be disputed at any time.
I guess that was a bit of ado, wasn't it?
Anyway, so far in November, I have written twenty-three posts (which will be twenty-four with this one). This means that I have missed one day in Novemblog, and that day was duly noted. Had I made up that post, we might certainly be in a different situation than we are today. Everything could be different. Everything is not different, though, because I didn't make that post. This must be distinctly understood, or else nothing wonderful may come of the tale I am about to relate.
Novemblog requires fifty thousand words over the course of November for an attempt to be considered successful. Of those fifty thousand words, I have (before the writing of this post) written 42,559 words. For those who are interested, that's 238,042 characters, which is up there with Les Misérables for total characters (because, see, Victor Hugo wrote a lot of individual characters. It's supposed to be a pun. I'm having trouble subverting the joke by explaining it. You win again, puns.). If I take out the spaces and other science fiction stuff (because nobody respects science fiction anyway unless your last name is Clarke or Asimov), the character drops down to 197,098. Interestingly, only three of these characters are named, and none of them are named in this text. None of these three is the protagonist. How avant garde.
Because there have been 23 posts, the average words per post is 1,850.4 (roughly, because dividing into 23 makes things awkward, as it is large and ungainly despite being... in its prime! Ha ha, the puns, they are going to be flying fast and furiously tonight).
If we account for the fact that there is (theoretically) a 24th post that consists of zero words and zero characters, then the average word count (that is, the average word count per day) is 1,773.291666666666... etc. This means that, despite having taken a night off from Novemblog, I am still on track to hit fifty thousand with some words to spare. Which words, you ask? Well, I am partial to lugubrious. I'm also a fan of transcranial magnetic stimulation, even though it feels like somebody is snapping a rubber band in your sinuses.
In terms of word density, the top two (according to wordcounter.net, which I think may be ommitting prepositions and articles but including stuff from image links, which may be artificially inflating my word counts, but don't tell anyone that because this is just how we're gonna roll tonight. In fact, I have no idea what you're talking about. What are you accusing me of? Why do I keep using propositions to end my sentences with?) words being used are "pretty" and "time." I'm sure that this could be used to underscore how my blog is paradoxically obsessed with both the worldly and the philosophical, but I think that lends itself to comparisons with Jaden and Willow Smith, which frankly sounds pretty awful. I don't know if my heart could take that kind of stress and disappointment.
Also, I would like to clarify something about how I have been doing the word counts. I have gone into each post and copied the body of the post and pasted it into the little text box on wordcounter.net. Although this does include the hyperlink text as words, it does not count the titles of the posts, which adds a little bit to the word count. Even though the titles do not add nearly as many words to the posts as my image hyperlink text, admitting this fact to you has given me the moral high ground, upon which I intend to establish a base of command and a group of artillery ready to fire when commanded, because nobody is going to take this high ground from me. You hear that? Nobody.
By combining the moral high ground with the army of unnamed space characters mentioned above, the resulting army may be used to lay waste to cities far and wide, resulting in an empire that will outlast all those living today. However, as time goes by, a young man (or woman) will yearn for frredom. He (or She) will do little to achieve said freedom, but stories will be told to the children and grandchildren. Eventually, a hero will rise to overthrow the space characters and usher in an age of unparalleled scientific regression. We're talking straight up "I'm going into a Whole Foods" levels of stupidity and inanity,
On an unrelated note, Rob's eyes are not staying open, so if there are any odd typos (usually a misplaced space or an extra letter here or there), then that is why. Sleep deprivation is a cruel mistress, but she's such a manic pixie dream girl that you get intrigued. It's like, "Hey, you can do whatever you want! Let's go dance in the rain without shoes!" and then in the second act you're dying of pneumonia in the hospital, and all of this could have been avoided if you had done what all of our ancestors did when it rained and SOUGHT OUT SHELTER. I mean, come on. This is not rocket science, guys.
Rob is working on his laptop, and, having forgotten his charger tonight, he is currently at around 20 minutes of battery life remaining. The laptop is laggy under the best of circumstances, but adding in a time component and battery issues cannot end well. Also, having a laggy laptop with internet access is a superior option to the phone, because I still haven't figured out adding pictures while in the phone. Surely it can be done. But, anyway, yes, 20 minutes (more or less) of battery life. We now have a ticking clock. Time to get the fastest five hundred words that I can muster.
I'm sure that I could dig up some vaguely interesting statistics regarding the timing of my posts and correlate that with creativity or quality of writing (based on metrics such as self-satisfaction, vocabulary, and typos) and that these statistics would be incredibly enlightening for my sleep schedule and how it affects my ability to work. Right now, it is putting quite a damper on my ability to get through all of this (as partly evidenced by my obscenely vague use of "this" before this parenthetical. I mean, come on. Get your shit together, Rob. It might be interesting to see the times at which each post was published, but I can all but assure you that pretty much all of these posts were written, at least in part, in the dead of night. This has led to a bit of sleep deprivation and the nosedive in motivation, performance, and critical reasoning. Normally, I'd put a pithy remark here (possibly about David Hassehoff (which took at least three tries to spell somewhat correctly, and I am not convinced that I hit it properly that time)), but good heavens, I cannot keep my eyes open right now. We're down to fourteen minutes of battery. It's going to take some pretty fast typing to beat this clock. Can Rob do it?
I think it's entirely possible. I mean, let's face it. This was padding before Thanksgiving. It's the filler episode before the climactic end of the season fight against whoever has been terrorizing the heroes all season long. And this time, the real villain is... well, it's ultimately time, isn't it? We all get older, our skin wrinkles, we lost our muscles and our good looks, our batteries start dying on us, and our kids are moving away. You can try to fight time with fancy cars or younger love interests, but then you're either being seen as skeevy (whether or not all rich old guys are or not- maybe it was true love this time) or you end up being the cast of Sex in the City and... I don't know. I had another movie in mind. It's not there anymore.
Well, good news. I just went up to the top of the entry and added in that first paragraph, which you've long read by now, and it put me just over the word limit! I'm sure this sentence is helping a bit as well. Now, I need to sleep so I can be effective in lab tomorrow.
 |
| Yeah, it's a pretty bad idea. |
Returning readers to the Novemblog experience (Are you Novemsperienced?) remember that around this time of year, I tend to do at least one post about statistics for the month thus far. Usually it ends up being around the fifteenth, which I suppose is when I tend to lose motivation much of the time (although this month I was either talking about P.T., which was an okay post, I guess, or about how "It's Thanksgiving" is really a retelling of Lord of the Flies, which I thought was a pretty solid post).
 |
| "Fancy thinking the beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn't you? You knew, didn't you? I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are what they are?" |
However, having missed a few posts and with the Thanksgiving holiday approaching (meaning that I'll have minimal wireless internet access and will thus be on my phone and have little access to word counter software, potentially leading to shorter posts), I wanted to take stock of the situation. So, without further ado, here are some important tidbits- well, useful bits of information- well, true- stories- well, okay, fine, facts. Their importance, utility, and veracity may be disputed at any time.
I guess that was a bit of ado, wasn't it?
Anyway, so far in November, I have written twenty-three posts (which will be twenty-four with this one). This means that I have missed one day in Novemblog, and that day was duly noted. Had I made up that post, we might certainly be in a different situation than we are today. Everything could be different. Everything is not different, though, because I didn't make that post. This must be distinctly understood, or else nothing wonderful may come of the tale I am about to relate.
 |
| Charles Dickens: The original gonzo journalist. |
Novemblog requires fifty thousand words over the course of November for an attempt to be considered successful. Of those fifty thousand words, I have (before the writing of this post) written 42,559 words. For those who are interested, that's 238,042 characters, which is up there with Les Misérables for total characters (because, see, Victor Hugo wrote a lot of individual characters. It's supposed to be a pun. I'm having trouble subverting the joke by explaining it. You win again, puns.). If I take out the spaces and other science fiction stuff (because nobody respects science fiction anyway unless your last name is Clarke or Asimov), the character drops down to 197,098. Interestingly, only three of these characters are named, and none of them are named in this text. None of these three is the protagonist. How avant garde.
Because there have been 23 posts, the average words per post is 1,850.4 (roughly, because dividing into 23 makes things awkward, as it is large and ungainly despite being... in its prime! Ha ha, the puns, they are going to be flying fast and furiously tonight).
 |
| Just like the cars in the Fast and the Furious franchise! |
If we account for the fact that there is (theoretically) a 24th post that consists of zero words and zero characters, then the average word count (that is, the average word count per day) is 1,773.291666666666... etc. This means that, despite having taken a night off from Novemblog, I am still on track to hit fifty thousand with some words to spare. Which words, you ask? Well, I am partial to lugubrious. I'm also a fan of transcranial magnetic stimulation, even though it feels like somebody is snapping a rubber band in your sinuses.
In terms of word density, the top two (according to wordcounter.net, which I think may be ommitting prepositions and articles but including stuff from image links, which may be artificially inflating my word counts, but don't tell anyone that because this is just how we're gonna roll tonight. In fact, I have no idea what you're talking about. What are you accusing me of? Why do I keep using propositions to end my sentences with?) words being used are "pretty" and "time." I'm sure that this could be used to underscore how my blog is paradoxically obsessed with both the worldly and the philosophical, but I think that lends itself to comparisons with Jaden and Willow Smith, which frankly sounds pretty awful. I don't know if my heart could take that kind of stress and disappointment.
Also, I would like to clarify something about how I have been doing the word counts. I have gone into each post and copied the body of the post and pasted it into the little text box on wordcounter.net. Although this does include the hyperlink text as words, it does not count the titles of the posts, which adds a little bit to the word count. Even though the titles do not add nearly as many words to the posts as my image hyperlink text, admitting this fact to you has given me the moral high ground, upon which I intend to establish a base of command and a group of artillery ready to fire when commanded, because nobody is going to take this high ground from me. You hear that? Nobody.
By combining the moral high ground with the army of unnamed space characters mentioned above, the resulting army may be used to lay waste to cities far and wide, resulting in an empire that will outlast all those living today. However, as time goes by, a young man (or woman) will yearn for frredom. He (or She) will do little to achieve said freedom, but stories will be told to the children and grandchildren. Eventually, a hero will rise to overthrow the space characters and usher in an age of unparalleled scientific regression. We're talking straight up "I'm going into a Whole Foods" levels of stupidity and inanity,
On an unrelated note, Rob's eyes are not staying open, so if there are any odd typos (usually a misplaced space or an extra letter here or there), then that is why. Sleep deprivation is a cruel mistress, but she's such a manic pixie dream girl that you get intrigued. It's like, "Hey, you can do whatever you want! Let's go dance in the rain without shoes!" and then in the second act you're dying of pneumonia in the hospital, and all of this could have been avoided if you had done what all of our ancestors did when it rained and SOUGHT OUT SHELTER. I mean, come on. This is not rocket science, guys.
Rob is working on his laptop, and, having forgotten his charger tonight, he is currently at around 20 minutes of battery life remaining. The laptop is laggy under the best of circumstances, but adding in a time component and battery issues cannot end well. Also, having a laggy laptop with internet access is a superior option to the phone, because I still haven't figured out adding pictures while in the phone. Surely it can be done. But, anyway, yes, 20 minutes (more or less) of battery life. We now have a ticking clock. Time to get the fastest five hundred words that I can muster.
I'm sure that I could dig up some vaguely interesting statistics regarding the timing of my posts and correlate that with creativity or quality of writing (based on metrics such as self-satisfaction, vocabulary, and typos) and that these statistics would be incredibly enlightening for my sleep schedule and how it affects my ability to work. Right now, it is putting quite a damper on my ability to get through all of this (as partly evidenced by my obscenely vague use of "this" before this parenthetical. I mean, come on. Get your shit together, Rob. It might be interesting to see the times at which each post was published, but I can all but assure you that pretty much all of these posts were written, at least in part, in the dead of night. This has led to a bit of sleep deprivation and the nosedive in motivation, performance, and critical reasoning. Normally, I'd put a pithy remark here (possibly about David Hassehoff (which took at least three tries to spell somewhat correctly, and I am not convinced that I hit it properly that time)), but good heavens, I cannot keep my eyes open right now. We're down to fourteen minutes of battery. It's going to take some pretty fast typing to beat this clock. Can Rob do it?
I think it's entirely possible. I mean, let's face it. This was padding before Thanksgiving. It's the filler episode before the climactic end of the season fight against whoever has been terrorizing the heroes all season long. And this time, the real villain is... well, it's ultimately time, isn't it? We all get older, our skin wrinkles, we lost our muscles and our good looks, our batteries start dying on us, and our kids are moving away. You can try to fight time with fancy cars or younger love interests, but then you're either being seen as skeevy (whether or not all rich old guys are or not- maybe it was true love this time) or you end up being the cast of Sex in the City and... I don't know. I had another movie in mind. It's not there anymore.
Well, good news. I just went up to the top of the entry and added in that first paragraph, which you've long read by now, and it put me just over the word limit! I'm sure this sentence is helping a bit as well. Now, I need to sleep so I can be effective in lab tomorrow.
 |
| Oooh, poor picture choice. |
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