What's the point of a personal site? October 28, 2001 8:56 PM Subscribe
A quoi sert un site perso ?, or, What's the point of a personal site? An article and discussion in French: "There are at least two reasons to make a personal site, and beyond those reasons, multiple consequences... Worst of all is an article in the press. An article in the press makes you a little crazy. A publication on the web gets its legitimacy in the acknowledgment by the real world, in the "paper" press. "Site of the week" on searchengine.com is good. But that lasts three days. An article on paper, that shows legitimacy to friends who make fun of the web. A big illusion, sure, but an illusion based in legitimacy... 'You have a site, yeah, so what?' they say to me. And then somebody writes about it in a serious newspaper. 'Oh, shit! That's crazy! That's cool! Party! Gimme five!' they say. Except it's no longer me, it's somebody else."
It's 2am, but I thought I'd translate this for those who care. There are a few parts where the European french (and slang) got the better of me, but this should be mostly comprehensible. I've edited for coherence, here and there. Also, again, its 2am, so my translation may not be as fine as it might otherwise be. Hope a few people find some use in it. (I found it interesting, and refreshingly honest.)
"After two years of experience in personal sites, I'm always asking myself what use it has to have one's own window on the web. To satisfy my own over-inflated ego, sure, but what else?
Lots of things. To my great surprise, what was at the start, in the summer of '99, a place for writing and tomfoolery, has become with time a psychological problem of its own, and it's time that I see a psychiatrist, for multiple personalities.
There are at least two reasons to make a personal site, and, above and beyond these reasons, multiple consequences.
The first reason that came to me when I was considering a website, was as a sort of warehouse. To store my ideas somewhere, and in so doing, capturing their form at a given moment. In '99, the francophone Web was stammering, and putting prose online could, at worst, cost little to do, at best, have a little impact in the great randomness of the Net. My warehouse benefited from the exponential growth of the Internet's capacities, and I still ask myself why the Net didn't -really- give birth to a wider movement of making discoveries of 'new talent' in photography, writing and video. Perhaps, finally, the virtual arena is less powerful than the "real world" arena. Anything else seems like a pipe-dream. Discoveries like that ever really happens. Nothing ever gets reall big, unless its a rumour and, sometimes, anecdotes of social successes for auto-stoppeurs dont on fit la pub[?] in "Le Monde". Besides that, nothing. [I've taken a wild guess about the meaning of those last few sentences.]
The second reason for starting a site has to do with "pleasant surprises". These "pleasant surprises" are incomprehensible to the pseudo-specialists of the Web, from Val to Wolton to who-knows-who. It's only by practicing what they preach that you can encounter such surprises: there are people out there. Many more people than on my street, (where I don't know anyone... well, almost). There are tons of people, and these tons are, globally, nearby. Incredible for non-practitioners (here I am, curator of the Web...), there is a world that causes and responds to texts and to little vanities, remarks, remembrances, ideas or hazy theories - it actually exists, and it makes remarks, theories etc. and, funnily, these people are more "alive" than most of those who are content to read the televised newspaper in the evening. This "vulgar" aspect doubtless rebuts the people who work on real paper but, furthermore, it permits me to continue my site. It encourages me.
The consequences are less clear. The surprise at these first virtual contacts is gradually displaced by something resembling relationships with "real" contacts. We meet, we teach each other, we have the same memories, a few of the same tastes, it's fine if we didn't go to school together. [That last phrase sounds funny to me, but...] Normal. With the theme of the site having rallied those who may feel a bond - we can gather together. The web is thus not at all what the imbeciles in the press describe: it's a hot machine. A machine for human relations.
Stunning, yes?
There's that famous new social numeric link, more or less confirmed, still a little fragile. [Not sure what this means...]
Worst of all is an article in the press. An article in the press makes you a little crazy. A publication on the web gets its legitimacy in the acknowledgment by the real world, in the "paper" press. "Site of the week" on searchengine.com is good. But that lasts three days. An article on paper, that shows legitimacy to friends who make fun of the web. A big illusion, sure, but an illusion based in legitimacy. [That was from Mo.] A "paper" article makes your personal site emerge from the pack, as if the site wasn't completely useless. The echo of the real world gives an absolute "legibility", outside of the auto-legitimization of one's peers - those who, themselves, have personal sites and with whom you have sympathetic links. The view from outside, through another media, gives a strange consistency to the thing. I only existed since people have talked about me - well, of my avatar, my alias, my alter-ego. 'You have a site, yeah, so what?' they say to me. And then somebody writes about it in a serious newspaper. 'Oh, shit! That's crazy! That's cool! Party! Gimme five!' they say. Except it's no longer me, it's somebody else." [Again, stolen from Mo's fine translation.]
That's where I wanted to be. It's perhaps not universal, but there's a danger. Ever since my avatar has existed (ever since I've had a personal site), my identity, frankly, has been illusory. The net, to a large extent, represents the place for a richer existence (in contacts, reflections, praises), than the place of my every-day office life. The separation between the two "me's" is getting stronger and stronger, and in that, there isn't any real "satisfaction" - to talk like a shrink.
It's through this lens that we look at the site statistics, and in fact, that's the hidden motive in this piece. This week-end, the counter will reach 100 000. Like on a spedometer. Does it deserve a revision?
Pah. A draining, perhaps? [The previous two sentences are a little unclear to me...]
100 000 visitors, that doesn't mean much on the Internet. Laughable for TF1.fr; it's a matinee for a porno site; but 2 years for my personal site. It's the size of an average town. Three quarters of those hits came by accident and won't come back, but it still leaves for an incalculable number of regulars, shit-disturbers, silent observers. This is how we hook on to statistics: to find a legitimacy for one's site.
But what happens next? The sentimental attachment to the site is similar to the kind that one has for depression. Should I quit, should I stay? Certain sites have already disappeared, and it's too bad. Others have become terrible dumps. The future will tell us who lasts.
A final point, doubtlessly crucial, is linked to visibility. Numerous sites are those of newcomers who want to be seen. The problem with wanting to be seen, is that a random individual site is invisible, unless you fall back on some trick with porn. To actually be seen, you need to play with the notion of the portal, the forum, and the mailing lists. Some people call this "viral marketing". It's certainly the only way to find neighbours on the virtual stage. In only a few years, most search engines have lost their marketshare, and Google's success (it gets a little more than 30% of searches) isn't without its drawbacks. This search engine classes its results by pertinence. As millions of people search for a film by Michel Blanc that carries the same name as my site, my first place standing will fly away.
And then, gone will be my beautiful life, my virtual friendships, my guides to life, my questions about Art and the net, the forums and all those things...
But still, 100 000."
posted by Marquis at 11:17 PM on October 28, 2001
"After two years of experience in personal sites, I'm always asking myself what use it has to have one's own window on the web. To satisfy my own over-inflated ego, sure, but what else?
Lots of things. To my great surprise, what was at the start, in the summer of '99, a place for writing and tomfoolery, has become with time a psychological problem of its own, and it's time that I see a psychiatrist, for multiple personalities.
There are at least two reasons to make a personal site, and, above and beyond these reasons, multiple consequences.
The first reason that came to me when I was considering a website, was as a sort of warehouse. To store my ideas somewhere, and in so doing, capturing their form at a given moment. In '99, the francophone Web was stammering, and putting prose online could, at worst, cost little to do, at best, have a little impact in the great randomness of the Net. My warehouse benefited from the exponential growth of the Internet's capacities, and I still ask myself why the Net didn't -really- give birth to a wider movement of making discoveries of 'new talent' in photography, writing and video. Perhaps, finally, the virtual arena is less powerful than the "real world" arena. Anything else seems like a pipe-dream. Discoveries like that ever really happens. Nothing ever gets reall big, unless its a rumour and, sometimes, anecdotes of social successes for auto-stoppeurs dont on fit la pub[?] in "Le Monde". Besides that, nothing. [I've taken a wild guess about the meaning of those last few sentences.]
The second reason for starting a site has to do with "pleasant surprises". These "pleasant surprises" are incomprehensible to the pseudo-specialists of the Web, from Val to Wolton to who-knows-who. It's only by practicing what they preach that you can encounter such surprises: there are people out there. Many more people than on my street, (where I don't know anyone... well, almost). There are tons of people, and these tons are, globally, nearby. Incredible for non-practitioners (here I am, curator of the Web...), there is a world that causes and responds to texts and to little vanities, remarks, remembrances, ideas or hazy theories - it actually exists, and it makes remarks, theories etc. and, funnily, these people are more "alive" than most of those who are content to read the televised newspaper in the evening. This "vulgar" aspect doubtless rebuts the people who work on real paper but, furthermore, it permits me to continue my site. It encourages me.
The consequences are less clear. The surprise at these first virtual contacts is gradually displaced by something resembling relationships with "real" contacts. We meet, we teach each other, we have the same memories, a few of the same tastes, it's fine if we didn't go to school together. [That last phrase sounds funny to me, but...] Normal. With the theme of the site having rallied those who may feel a bond - we can gather together. The web is thus not at all what the imbeciles in the press describe: it's a hot machine. A machine for human relations.
Stunning, yes?
There's that famous new social numeric link, more or less confirmed, still a little fragile. [Not sure what this means...]
Worst of all is an article in the press. An article in the press makes you a little crazy. A publication on the web gets its legitimacy in the acknowledgment by the real world, in the "paper" press. "Site of the week" on searchengine.com is good. But that lasts three days. An article on paper, that shows legitimacy to friends who make fun of the web. A big illusion, sure, but an illusion based in legitimacy. [That was from Mo.] A "paper" article makes your personal site emerge from the pack, as if the site wasn't completely useless. The echo of the real world gives an absolute "legibility", outside of the auto-legitimization of one's peers - those who, themselves, have personal sites and with whom you have sympathetic links. The view from outside, through another media, gives a strange consistency to the thing. I only existed since people have talked about me - well, of my avatar, my alias, my alter-ego. 'You have a site, yeah, so what?' they say to me. And then somebody writes about it in a serious newspaper. 'Oh, shit! That's crazy! That's cool! Party! Gimme five!' they say. Except it's no longer me, it's somebody else." [Again, stolen from Mo's fine translation.]
That's where I wanted to be. It's perhaps not universal, but there's a danger. Ever since my avatar has existed (ever since I've had a personal site), my identity, frankly, has been illusory. The net, to a large extent, represents the place for a richer existence (in contacts, reflections, praises), than the place of my every-day office life. The separation between the two "me's" is getting stronger and stronger, and in that, there isn't any real "satisfaction" - to talk like a shrink.
It's through this lens that we look at the site statistics, and in fact, that's the hidden motive in this piece. This week-end, the counter will reach 100 000. Like on a spedometer. Does it deserve a revision?
Pah. A draining, perhaps? [The previous two sentences are a little unclear to me...]
100 000 visitors, that doesn't mean much on the Internet. Laughable for TF1.fr; it's a matinee for a porno site; but 2 years for my personal site. It's the size of an average town. Three quarters of those hits came by accident and won't come back, but it still leaves for an incalculable number of regulars, shit-disturbers, silent observers. This is how we hook on to statistics: to find a legitimacy for one's site.
But what happens next? The sentimental attachment to the site is similar to the kind that one has for depression. Should I quit, should I stay? Certain sites have already disappeared, and it's too bad. Others have become terrible dumps. The future will tell us who lasts.
A final point, doubtlessly crucial, is linked to visibility. Numerous sites are those of newcomers who want to be seen. The problem with wanting to be seen, is that a random individual site is invisible, unless you fall back on some trick with porn. To actually be seen, you need to play with the notion of the portal, the forum, and the mailing lists. Some people call this "viral marketing". It's certainly the only way to find neighbours on the virtual stage. In only a few years, most search engines have lost their marketshare, and Google's success (it gets a little more than 30% of searches) isn't without its drawbacks. This search engine classes its results by pertinence. As millions of people search for a film by Michel Blanc that carries the same name as my site, my first place standing will fly away.
And then, gone will be my beautiful life, my virtual friendships, my guides to life, my questions about Art and the net, the forums and all those things...
But still, 100 000."
posted by Marquis at 11:17 PM on October 28, 2001
My reasons for having a personal site: it's easier in a club to shout a URL at someone than a phone number or email address; it forces me to write something every night so that I never lose the rhythm ready for when I go back to studying and writing that TV script; it's good editorial practice; because I'm probably an egotist; because now I've started I feel a bit obligated to the people who do read the site and link-me from their own sites; other stuff.
posted by feelinglistless at 11:36 PM on October 28, 2001
posted by feelinglistless at 11:36 PM on October 28, 2001
Thanks for the translation, Marquis. Looks good.
posted by Mo Nickels at 6:49 AM on October 29, 2001
posted by Mo Nickels at 6:49 AM on October 29, 2001
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posted by Mo Nickels at 9:03 PM on October 28, 2001