I just recieved this email:
Good day,
I was searching the internet for resources that some of my visitors
would find interesting and came upon your site, wombatfile.com.
I am a psychotherapist in practice for over twenty years and I have
successfully used hypnosis for weight loss, smoking and anxiety.
You can see my site at -----. I would
appreciate it if you agree to cross-link our sites as I believe both
our sites and visitors will benefit. If you are interested please send
me the description of your site and the url you would like me to link
to.
Please let me know if you have any questions or comments.
Best regards,
---------
If you'd like to see the website in question, Google the phrase "accelerated pace unproductive emotions like shame" and you'll find a single link to a page chock full of words and phrases, many of them involving the same letters and punctuation marks the WF has employed over the years. Hence, I suppose, the natural connection between the two. Or maybe it's the fact that my prose is considered by many to be downright mesmerizing.
***
Also on the WombatFile-as-e-commerce-vehicle front -- I confess, I was sort of sorry to delete and close down the comment-spam tar-baby that was this entry. I don't know how or why it started -- it wasn't the only archived post to attract the occasional "your site is very informative" with a link to the peddlers of some crap diet or other. But I suppose that the way these things work means that each link by one quasi-dadaist 'bot made the page that much more attractive to others; soon, a soggy-minded sketch of a scene from last year's endlessly-delayed Spring became a clearinghouse for hawkers of human growth hormone, cashmere sweaters, naughty DVDs, and crap diet after crap diet. There was something fascinating about watching it build. How high would the mound of garbage get?
High enough. An eyesore is an eyesore, and it's gone, along with a pleasant exchange in the early comments about the meaning of the phrase "rope-a-dope." Sorry -- I had to kill all the comments to close the door.
Posted by BT at February 24, 2004 12:28 AMFurther experience revealed a very irritating bug in MT -- once comments have started appearing on an entry, apparently unchecking the "allow comments" box on the edit-entry screen doesn't really work. It LOOKS like it works. But the comment URL which had become the destination-of-choice for many a comment-spambot was still available, even after a rebuild. And so the links piled up again.
So now the entry -- which was made nearly a year ago, after a freak early-Spring storm had left the tree behind our old apartment both blooming and snowbound -- is gone. But -- if for no other reason than I can't stand to throw away nearly anything -- here's the text of the entry:
The magnolia outside the window is blossoming into the cotton-wool of snow, the coral-tipped branches all swaying punchdrunkenly in the breeze, their ends superclogged with ice, as the fingerlike buds cradle snow-lumps.
It's a mournful pose and I can't look away, but the world's indifferent. Low post-dawn clouds, busy grey ghosts, are rush-houring it southward, reverse-commuters with skirts passing just above the housetops, but quiet and efficient in their passage against a dirty white sky, like a stream of Wall Street assistants in their charcoal skirts and pale Nikes (pumps in the bottom right-hand desk drawer). And the birds, they're on the job hitting the headwind, muscling north, black, slick-speedy and crows-eye straightlining it somewhere past windowsville, not interested at all in one more dumbass flowering tree, rope-a-doped by a winter’s last savage trick.
Yeah, I know, it's not exactly Robert Frost. Or even Bob Hope.
Posted by: BT on March 1, 2004 11:53 PMNote -- I haven't updated my version of MT in a while, partly because of time and partly because I'm scared I'll break something in the process. I'm sure the bug I mentioned above is probably long since fixed. I wouldn't want to be construed as complaining unduly.
Posted by: BT on March 1, 2004 11:54 PM