Weekly Flâneur: Pin Me

Image of pins and badges on display. Click to enlarge.

Pins of Interest?

Interesting pins?

The pinnacle of pin interest?

Pinterest word plays that are just not pinned down working?

Pah. Pins provided per Portobello Market, London, UK

How to Get Blog Hits, FitC Style

I'm not a successful blogger by any means (I'd never win America's Next Top Blogger, no matter how often Tyra Banks told me to use SEO phrases and smile with my eyes) but here are a few things I've learned from having Flâneur in the City these past few years. Follow my lead and you too can have tens of blog hits from people who aren't even related to you! Tens, I tell you!

1.) Katy Perry's boobs. Never mind the feminist critique that accompanies the photo of KP's candy cleavage and the clear preference for Lady Gaga. Pictures! Boobs!

Lesson: Pop stars can be used to teach anything. Feminism, economics, quantum physics. If you're writing about a subject that isn't spicy enough to draw in readers who aren't your friends and family, throw in some pop stars.

Two for the price of one!

2.) Backstreet Boys! Clearly I underestimated the draw. The 1990s are alive and well in the hearts of Internet users and damn it they will have their Backstreet's Back, all right!

Lesson: Nostalgia = Blog hits.

3.) Quotation marks around the phrase "David Bowie's Penis." There's half my Google hits right there.

Lesson: This lesson really only applies to FitC. But if you have a celeb (or author or musician or congresswoman, but not a real person in your life) you love, write about him/her. Avoid being creepy about it. There's a difference between jest and stalking. And if there's one thing I am absolutely certain of is that everyone loves David Bowie and his spider from Mars.

4.) Obscure hits come from the phrase "fishing lures London." One photo of shining fishing lures near South Kensington mean a few readers have found FitC in hopes of improving their fishing. Sorry, mates.

Lesson: The more obscure, the better. Any topic you know that no one else knows? Write about it. And use keywords that pertain to the subject. Frequently, but not obnoxiously.

5.) Friends with blogs. A lot of my hits come from Shakesville and Feministe; both sport open forums that encourage readers to share what they've been bloggity-blogging about. When I write something related to social justice, feminism, politics, or 90s pop stars, I share. I have a whole Reading List of blogs and sites that I am in touch with, and I want to add more.

Lesson: Make friends with benefits! Also with blogs.

Friday QuoteDay

"Now, I want to be very clear that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be attractive or sexy. Just about everybody wants this. What’s wrong is that this is emphasized for girls and women at incredibly young ages, to the exclusion of other important qualities and aspects. Being hot becomes the most important measure of success."

— Jean Kilbourne, author, speaker and filmmaker; quote from "Killing Us Softly."

"In this update of her pioneering Killing Us Softly series, Jean Kilbourne takes a fresh look at how advertising traffics in distorted and destructive ideals of femininity."

What the Backstreet Boys Taught Me About Internet Politics

Bastions of Internet knowledge.

When I was young'in, I attended 4 different high schools before graduating. In the states, high school is 4 years of study and jumping schools isn't the norm. The first school was an arts school that combined junior high with the first year of high school (7th through 9th grade). The second school was the local high school I was assigned to by location (10th grade), and the third was a brand new high school built to manage overcrowding that my district re-assigned me and half my classmates to (11th and 12th grade). In this shuffling about, I managed to miss a required math class and found myself in my last term of my senior year missing a credit that I would need to graduate come Spring with the rest of my classmates.

In came high school number four: a night school that offered the missed class I needed that I would attend after my regular full day of classes. The night school was alternative schooling for an eclectic mix of students who didn't fit the traditional mold; young mothers, working students, students who were not up to speed for their grade level, older students, students who spoke English as a second language (like the French-Arabic guy who I would sometimes make-out with in the parking lot, but that's another story), and students who missed a class (like me). 

One night I made it class a little bit early and took a seat next to two friendly looking girls. We started talking. They were younger than me, both around 15. Let's call them Girl A and Girl B. What followed was an encounter that I still think about, years later.

"He called me again last night," Girl A said to Girl B.
"For real?" Girl B replied.
"Yeah, he says he's really into me," Girl A said.
Girl B looked at me and excitedly said, "She knows the Backstreet Boys."
My reaction was naturally skeptical. "How?" I asked.
"I know a girl who knows them," Girl A explained. "She gave them my number and we talk."
"But, how do you know it's them?" I said.
"I talk to Kevin. He knows things only the Backstreet Boys would know," Girl A earnestly replied.

But, how would you know what only they would know? I wanted to ask, but stopped myself. I weighed the possibility that this was a stupid joke. A really stupid joke. Or was it possible that Kevin was actually calling this girl every night? That would be some serious dedication to the fans, or worth a call to the police, since 15-year-old girls are underage and Kevin was grown man. But after listening to her talk a few more minutes it was obviously not the case. Too many details didn't add up. Could this girl really believe that the Backstreet Boys, who were at the height of their late '90s popularity, would be calling a 15-year-old girl they've never met before just to chat for hours?

FFF: FitC Friends on Facebook

Did you know my wee little blog has a wee little Facebook page? I try to remember to update it when I post here on FitC, but more often than not, I forget. The 17 of you who do "Like" me on Facebook are quite possibly the greatest set of 17 people in the entire world and I love you all. You publicly admit to reading my blather and regularly endure frequent mentions of David Bowie's penis. You make a girl proud, you do. I get starry-eyed just thinking of you all. You too, Google Followers. You lot make me want to take up camping, as I am the happiest camper in all of campingdon thanks to your support.

If you haven't liked me on Facebook or followed me via Google or Twitter ... well. Well. I mean, I still love you. I do. Even as I sit and listen to, "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" on repeat. No, no, it's cool. I understand. You're very busy. We can still make this relationship work.

Facebook seems to think your reluctance to liking me has to do with the fact I do not pay them to advertise my wee page. (And not the fact I talk about penises way too much. Or the fact I neglect to update my blog with any real substance for long chunks of time. Or the fact that I don't sell anything or have anything really to offer save for love and entertainment and occasionally a well-written sentence or two.) I don't want to pay Facebook anything more than the hours of time I already devote to them, so there will be no FitC ads popping up in your sidebars, reminding you to like me, anytime soon.

Which is fine all around. Because I honestly don't think I can compete with the genius that is hat-beards (it's a hat ... with a beard) or the Gah!WhatTheHellIsWrongWithYourFeet!? fugshoes.

The only thing that will go fast in those shoes is your dignity.

In Conclusion: I love you please follow me.

So This Happened

Artful Blogging Magazine, seen at Books-A-Million, Charlotte, NC.

Blogging about a magazine about blogging.

I am blogging about a magazine about blogging.

It's an ouroboros of media, my friends. Web media took away print media, so to save and capitalise on the competitive free content provided by blogs, a print magazine showcasing the very medium that killed print now exists. And I am writing about it on a blog. The next step would be to create a blog for Artful Blogging Magazine.

Yeah.