Less than 60% of traffic on the internet is human. . .The rest is spiders
– Security firm Imperva
They should have expected this when they named it the World Wide WEB. But, you won’t see these spiders online. They are silent, but like real-life spiders, extremely useful. Well, most of them are.
Spiders, also called web-crawlers (take THAT Peter Parker) are used by search engines. Spiders catalogue the internet. When you search for “Most popular cat videos” on Google, the search giant doesn’t go out and query the internet right away. It’s already done that, via spiders. They crawl through every website they can access, collecting words, phrases, alt-text, even images and songs. Those queries are then stored in massive databases that Google references. The spiders fetch the data so it’s within easy reach.
The science is amazing. Google is silent about how many spiders it has at any one time, but the technology is advanced enough that it could be as few as 1000. Google’s not the only one combing through the Internet looking for cat videos, of course.
It occurred to me the other day that we are starting to see spider technology in the form of personal shoppers. Visit a Walmart at 2:00pm and you are likely to see the aisles crowded with people. Not customers, but spiders. Humans who are going out and fetching the things on your grocery list.
The search results are either stored on site in a set of lockers that look a little like a representation of a database, or brought directly to your door. Just like the Google spiders.
The humans are much slower, of course. And unlike Google, you pay for every spider crawl. But, just as online spiders dominate the web traffic, human spiders, especially during the middle of the day dominate the traffic at a Walmart.
And they even do delivery. Full service spiders.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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Oh sure, there have been plenty, but I’m specifically thinking about a tears because a man chose to write some words on a piece of paper and people kept reading it.
My family has a Christmas tradition that we take turns reading Christmas stories each evening in December. I decided to read my one of my favorite stories, “The Gift Of The Magi” by O. Henry.
First off, the story isn’t about the Magi, the wise men from the East who came to visit the toddler Jesus. They probably arrived several years after his birth. And we don’t know how many there were. We assume there were three because they brought three gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh.
“The Gift of the Magi” isn’t about those guys at all. And in fact, other than it being about giving gifts at Christmas it doesn’t have a very religious theme to it at all.
O. Henry wrote it in 1905. O. Henry is a pseudonym for William Sydney Porter.
The story is short. It can be read in less than 15 minutes. And as I read for my lovely wife and daughter, I found I couldn’t get through it. Probably because I knew what was coming later in the story, I found myself choking up and tearing up multiple times.
The story is about a poor young couple who attempt to get Christmas gifts for each other. We mostly stay with Della, the wife. He has $1.87 to buy Jim a gift. O. Henry uses repetition to great effect. Again and again we are reminded about that dollar and change. That would be about $59 in 2021 dollars. I’m not sure the story would be as poignant if it were updated to modern times.
I mean, you can buy a pretty nice gift for $60. But, $1.87? No way.
The story, like all good short stories has a twist. I won’t spoil it. Although the thought of putting a spoiler alert on a 116 year old story might be unnecessary.
I think I cry every time I read that story. Even now, thinking about the tale that O. Henry weaves for us, I ache for the young lovers and their attempts to put the needs of their spouse ahead of their own wants and needs.
And then, at the very end, O. Henry reminds us of how the Magi gifts symbolize all our gifts to others.
If you haven’t read the Gift of the Magi, you can find a copy here. (The copyright lapsed long ago.)
What Christmas tradition make YOU cry?
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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I’ve been making little ones out of big ones. It’s how I spent my weekend. And most days over the past few days.
My regular job is all about computers. And meetings. And Teams calls. I do very little tangible, or tactile work. Although my boss says I use more paper than anyone he’s seen. Still, it’s not really building anything.
I think that’s part of the reason I enjoy woodworking. You start with a board. come up with a design and then use lots of power tools to try to make something that resembles your design. Sometimes it works. Other times. . .you throw it in the scrap pile and start over.
There are multiple steps in creating a wooden toy, or piece of furniture. First there’s the design. Then, there’s selecting the wood. Then, cutting it to shape. Assembly. Sometimes it’s glue, sometimes it’s staples. Sometimes it’s nails. Sometimes it’s just fitting two pieces together very carefully. Sanding comes next. (My least favorite part.) And then paint, or stain. And often a final topcoat.
I saw a meme that relates to woodworkers.
My scrap pile is more than just a pile. It’s literally a wall of wood pieces in my garage. And yet, I constantly adding. The biggest problem with trying to build a project using scrap pieces is length. You can always make a long piece shorter, but it’s not really possible to make a short piece longer.
That’s why when you are starting a project it’s important to always cut the longest pieces first.
It’s less than two weeks until Christmas, and like the man in Robert Frost’s poem, Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening,
The wood is lovely, dark and deep
But, I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep
A few pictures of making little ones out of big ones.
Stay safe
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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I describe my town of Pleasant Grove as a “small town.” And it definitely has a small town feel. But, actually, it’s not that small. It has a couple hundred miles of roads. And we have about 40,000 residents.
Still, feels like a small town. . .and not always in a good way. Small town sometimes means small minded. There are have been two examples this past week that reminded me that not everyone is as. . .well. . .sane as I claim to be.
First, my town has Facebook pages that are dedicated to town issues. They have names like Ask Pleasant Grove and “Pleasant Grove Pride. Mostly, they are filled with posts from people who are new. That are looking for a good chiropractor. Or, someone found a lost dog and posts a picture. Or, someone asks a city council member why garbage day changed from Wednesday to Thursday (still haven’t gotten a straight answer.)
This week, though, someone in Pleasant Grove Pride posted a “petition.” The change.org petition was to request that a local company (TestOut) be required to vacate downtown so that boutique shops could move in and we could have a “cute” historic looking downtown with lots of adorable shops.
Two pieces of information for context. First, Pleasant Grove’s downtown is about 2 blocks long by a block wide. It has the fire station, the police station, the city park, the printers, a Cupcake place and a couple of other shops. The rest of the buildings are owned by TestOut. TestOut makes testing software. They have slowly expanded their footprint downtown until they own an entire city block. That’s a lot of space in a small town.
Second thing is Pleasant Grove downtown has very little parking. And not much walk up traffic. We have a summer festival called Strawberry Days (the longest running city festival in Utah.) But, other than Strawberry Days, there’s not a lot of people in our downtown.
I was shocked. Someone thought it would be a good idea to kick out a company that has spent YEARS in my little town, hiring local people, eating in local restaurants, and instead have “other companies” move in.
There was no explanation of where these companies would come from. Nor how the business model would work. Just the idea of clearing out TestOut to “make room” for these cute Mayberry businesses.
I’m really hoping the folks at TestOut don’t monitor the local forum.
The second story was in Ask Pleasant Grove. Someone sold a bunch of land that is is up against our mountain. A local citizen asked why the city would allow this land to be sold. This wasn’t public land. This was one private entity selling to another private entity. And yet people wanted to know why “the city” would allow such a thing.
A member of the city council pointed out that 1: the city council didn’t prevent people from selling private property. And 2: more importantly, the land wasn’t even in city limits.
Again, someone felt that it would be a good idea to prevent private owners from selling their own property. There was no suggestion that THESE people wanted to buy the property. And no suggestion they these people would sacrifice THEIR OWN property. But, they were perfectly willing to allow the city to take someone else’s property.
I might expect it in someplace like Seattle or Portland or San Francisco. But, here in Utah, we are a pretty conservative bunch. Socialism is a dirty word here. We are those Conservatives clinging to our bibles and guns.
And yet, my fellow citizens were more than willing to force government to tell private businesses how to run and tell citizens what they could do with their private property.
It seems pretty clear that even in red state Utah, people are interested in telling other people how to run their lives.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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It was 1981. I was in high school. We had an assembly. Remember assemblies? Even the name seems foreign during COVID’s social distancing.
I don’t remember the name of the speaker. I’ve even looked for it since then. No luck. But, he was, without a doubt the most engaging motivational speaker I have ever heard.
He was the Marine commander at the US Embassy in Tehran. For 444 days he, and a few dozen other Americans were held hostage in Iran. I think the message he was attempting to share was to just push on. Always, even in the worst of circumstances, keep going. Even when you don’t think you can continue. Go anyway.
He spoke Farsi. He had the opportunity to escape at the beginning of the occupation. But, he’d hardly be the commander of a military unit if he donned Arab dress and snuck off and left his charges to someone else.
He said the first thing the Iranians did when they took over the embassy was they ripped the bottom of everyone’s shoes off. They were looking for hidden telephones. Have you ever seen the old TV show Get Smart? Well, the Iranians had. The main character has a phone in his shoe. . .a rotary phone.
They also carefully pieced together all shredded documents. I’m not sure why I remember that bit of his talk.
He was placed in solitary confinement. He was moved to different rooms at different times. Despite the Iranians taking away most of his freedoms, he was determined to remain in charge of his own decisions.
One decision was to exercise daily. They couldn’t stop him from doing that. He did pushups and sit-ups and he walked 3 miles per day. Often his room was small, eight feet by six feet. He knew his belt was 36″ long. He used it to measure the distance around the room. He then did the calculations to walk 3 miles.
His rooms didn’t have a bathroom, so he got to leave his room at those times. As he was making his way to the bathroom, there was written on the wall in Farsi, the words “Down With Carter.” The speaker said he attempted to think what he might do. Finally, he wrote the word “Sit” in front of it.
Of course, the next time he went to the bathroom the word “Sit” had been erased. He wrote it again. They erased it again. He then scratched it in with a nail. The next time he walked down the hall the words “Down With Carter” had been erased. He said that was a good day.
The Olympics were going on during the year he was imprisoned. He had only a spoon and toilet paper available to him. He decided to stage his own Olympics. He was able to win several gold medals, which he was very proud of.
Eventually, he was allowed out of his solitary confinement. He had access to the library. There he found a book on German. He didn’t speak German. So, he set a goal to learn it. He managed to. At least to an extent.
“When we arrived in Germany, I was excited to try out my new German language skills. Sadly, the locals had no idea what I was trying to say.”
I’m not sure why I remember that day and that story so clearly. And yet, I cannot remember his name, or what he looked like.
Keep going. There is ALWAYS something you can do. There is ALWAYS a way to fight back. Even if you have nothing except a spoon, toilet paper and a bit of thread, you can be an Olympic champion.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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Ever been in a business meeting and seen someone and thought, “That guy looks familiar”? When was the last time that happened?
Nope. Me neither.
Ib my job I take a lot of zoom or Teams calls. I have developers in Nepal. My client is in another state. I’ve never met any of them in person.
But, I’ve met a couple before, or at least heard them before. Two of the people in our conference calls sound exactly like two people I work with now. I’d met the people on my old team. Julie was a director in Louisville. Daryl was a system analyst in San Antonio. I’d worked with both of them for years.
I’ve never met my new team. Steve and Garrett both work in Austin. Because I’ve never seen them, in my mind they match their voices. And therefore they look exactly like Julie and Daryl.
Sometimes, when it thinks it can get away with it, the Matrix tries to cut corners. It reuses voice prints.
And it thought no one would notice.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.”
– Marcus Aurelius
Meet Marcus Aurelius
He is a 1994 Toyota Corolla. When I was traveling a lot, I’d tell the shuttle driver, it’s the crappy silver Corolla with the bra.
You are probably wondering a few things:
1. Why have I named my car?
2. What journey are we starting on?
3. Why Marcus Aurelius?
I haven’t named a car since I was in high school. My high school car was named Phillip. Why? Because we constantly needed to Fill-up the car.
See what I did there?
Yeah, that’s why I haven’t named a car since then. But, I’m going to be talking about Marcus Aurelius over the coming months. It seemed more natural to anthropomorphize him than keep saying, “My car.”
Marcus Aurelius currently has 295,000 miles.
I expect him to roll over 300K sometime next Spring. I thought I’d document the ride.
He hit 295K on 12/5/2021 at 11:15pm. He was parked on the side of the freeway in Lehi, UT. (He wasn’t broken. I just didn’t trust myself to take a picture while he was moving.)
I was returning for a 1000 mile round trip to Boise, Idaho from my home in Pleasant Grove, Utah.
I drove to Boise to meet my brother and together we drove from Boise to Lacey, Washington to bury my brother Charles Bliss.
Was I nervous taking a car with that many miles on a journey of hundreds of miles on the freeway through desolate desert of Northern Utah and Southern Idaho?
Let’s just say that I packed my tools. . .all of them – my entire 3′ tall tool chest. Just in case.
Marcus Aurelius did great. Not a hiccup.
Oh, and why Marcus Aurelius? I don’t know. I was trying to think of an appropriate name. If the name Marcus Aurelius sounds familiar, he was the emperor in the movie “Gladiator.” He was the good emperor that befriended Russell Crowe’s character Maximus Decimus Meridius.
But, other than that, there was no reason. (I really tried to find an after-the-fact tie-in but, nope. Some writer I turned out to be.)
We’ll check in with Marcus Aurelius every 1000 miles for the next few months until he gets to the arbitrary number of 300,000 miles.
Stay safe
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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How was YOUR weekend?
I love 1000 miles across four states in two different cars. I spent time with my dear mother. I visited the town where I grew up.
Oh, and I buried my brother.
My family is crazy. But, probably no crazier than yours. My brother died of natural causes last week. He lived alone and he was in a lot of pain. He’s not in pain anymore.
My family has a cemetery. I didn’t realize it until recently.
This slab is located in Woodlawn cemetery in Lacey, Washington. It’s the closest cemetery to the house I grew up in.
My father’s name is on here.
The blank space next to his name is already paid for and will have my mother’s name.
Farther down the slap is my sister’s name.
One of the blank spaces below her name will be for my brother, Lloyd Charles Bliss.
But, Woodlawn Cemetery is more than just the final resting place for my family. It’s also where my lovely wife’s parents, Joseph and Donna Wilkinson are buried.
And her brother Enoch Clinton Wilkinson who died in a logging accident when she was young, he’s also buried here.
I don’t live in Lacey any more. I don’t even live in Washington. My family has scattered. We came from Utah, California, Arizona, Idaho and Washington. My brothers and I discussed how many more times we’d need to make this trip back. Only one brother still lives here.
I’ll return should call him home first. And of course, my dear mother, may she live to be 100, will be one more.
My weekend? I spent it with family, living and dead.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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I went to my brother’s place this morning. He’s not there anymore. He died a couple of weeks ago. We all went to his place today. My three other brothers and my dear mother. We went to sort out his stuff. Actually, it was more to sort through his stuff. The cleaners come next week. We went through and kept any family stuff.
We cleaned out his kitchen. We went through his store room. My brother had a book collection in the 1000s. Mostly science fiction. We went through his closets. He had many early editions of Dungeons and Dragons books. We went through his dressers and cabinets. We looked in every drawer and every shelf.
It was surreal. These things were important to my brother. Important enough for him to keep. And now what? We gave each item a glance and if it seemed useful or valuable we offered it around the family.
No one wanted to offend anyone else.
Did you want this?
No, you go ahead.
No, no, if you want it, you should take it.
And if no one wanted it, it simply got piled in an ever increasing pile of old books, out of date computer parts, dishes and various knicknacks.
My brother never married. He was a bachelor his entire life. There were no heirs to consider. Well, I suppose we, his remaining family were his heirs.
It’s a necessary task. The apartment needs to be cleaned and rerented. My brother lived there since 2003. None of the items were extremely valuable. He lived a fairly simple life. Even his car, a 1995 Saturn, will most likely be sold for scrap.
It’s odd to sort through your brothers stuff.
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Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
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or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved
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“You know you need to take the next exit
“Yes, Mom.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot we all used to live here.
I knew exactly what exit to take to reach the Ramada Inn on Martin Way. I’ve driven past it a thousand times. I’m in Lacey, Washington. I know every street and turn.
This is my hometown, but it’s no longer my home. And not just because I don’t live here. For a long time, no matter where I was traveling, or even living this was home. But, things change. I moved to Utah and found a life there. It’s where my kids were born. It’s where they got married. It’s where my grandchildren have been born and died.
My dear mother is here with me. She lived her longer than I did. But, she doesn’t live here anymore. She moved to the warm climate of Phoenix several years ago.
My younger brother still has a business here. He is in the process of selling his CPA firm. He now lives in Idaho. He moved away last year.
My older brother is here too. He now lives in California.
There is one member of my family who lives here, or at least he did until a few weeks ago. My brother Charles passed away in his sleep. We, the rest of the far-flung family are here to bury him.
My dear mother tried to get Charles to move to Phoenix. He didn’t want to leave his home. He lived in a small apartment in Lacey. This was where he grew up. And it was where he wanted to live. And then, it was where he died and will ultimately be buried.
It’s odd going back to where you grew up. Everything is familiar and nothing is the same. There are new buildings, and new roads. There are more people, and fewer friends.
My brother’s ashes will be buried in the Woodlawn Pioneer cemetery a mile from the house I grew up in. It’s the same place our father’s ashes are buried. And our sister. It’s the same place my dear mother will be laid to rest when her time comes. They will be buried not far from their home.
I will stand there on Saturday and bid my brother goodbye. I will say a pray and ask God to welcome him home with open arms. And then I will get in the car and drive away from the place I was raised. The familiar streets and lush green of Western Washington.
After seeing him laid to rest it will be time for me to head for home.
Stay safe
Rodney M Bliss is an author, columnist and IT Consultant. His blog updates every weekday. He lives in Pleasant Grove, UT with his lovely wife, thirteen children and grandchildren.
Follow him on
Twitter (@rodneymbliss)
Facebook (www.facebook.com/rbliss)
LinkedIn (www.LinkedIn.com/in/rbliss)
or email him at rbliss at msn dot com(c) 2021 Rodney M Bliss, all rights reserved