Monday, February 09, 2009

If you're related to me, you're probably not reading this.

Some time ago, I added the Google Analytics program to this blog. I figured that there was no reason why Google should know everything about who reads this thing, and not me.

It’s been illuminating, to say the least. Roughly half my meager traffic is comprised of repeat readers, but there are a surprising number who stumble upon this dusty corner of the Internet via search terms.

This is a cheap n’ easy way to generate blog posts, but my lord, the ways people find this blog are sometimes hilarious.

By far, the most popular search words that deposit people here are “naked germans” “naked sauna” and similar variants, which presumably bring people to this post. I also learned that those hippie naturalists are not nearly so peaceful as they appear, given the number of people looking for “nude marching” and variants. The Revolution is Upon Us! No Longer Will We Need Suffer the Tyranny of Foundation Garments!

Some people are apparently looking for me directly – these include people who searched for my name (with other identifiers), the blog’s name (including someone who specifically wanted to know what “View of the marching fishes” had to say about “naked Germans”), and one perspicacious individual that was looking for a “nude man exposed in glasses.” Outta luck, big guy! *Mark hurriedly removes glasses, too.*

Other oddities include someone who came by to tell me “I feel like a Guinness” (I would suggest looking for one somewhere other than the internet) and a plaintive cry of “leave me alone in French.” Say it, sister.

What is truly surprising is where my traffic is coming from – or rather, where it isn’t coming from. I’ve had (presumably unclothed-Teuton-seeking) hits the furthest corners of the world. They tend not to return. I also apparently have semi-regular readers in towns where, to the best of my knowledge, I know no one. So you know, you mysterious folks, I’m grateful for your patronage. About half my traffic is direct, and a third through search engines. Only five were referrals via facebook, making me wonder why I bother to post my notes there.

My largest readership (and large is a relative term) is from Canada, obviously, in particular Montreal and Toronto. I’m also big here in Strasbourg, although I suspect a large portion of my hits are from my own post-edit-post-edit style of work. These aren’t surprises. A surprise is that I’ve not one reader from my original hometown, despite the fact that I’ve 6 close family members there, most of whom should have seen my Facebook notices of new posts. Abandoned! By my own flesh and blood!

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I heard Hal Niedzviecki being interviewed about facebook friends. He decided to throw a facebook party and met with sad sad results... only 1 person showed up out of his hundreds of facebook friends. They sat around awkwardly in the bar as he slowly realized no one else was going to show up.

Anonymous said...

The only reason I Googled "Naked Germans" was because I had momentarily forgotten the name of German artist Gerhard Richter and I was interested in his "Nude on a Staircase" -- one of his works which intentionally blurs (quite literally) the lines between reality and artistic interpretation. I'm sure that's what most other people were doing too. I don't like what you're insinuating here, Bub.

Anonymous said...

I was looking for naked germans.

Knot Knitting said...

I recommended your blog to a friend in Leeds. So you may be getting some hits from knitters in the UK.

PS: She did recognize you with the pasties, before I deleted that pic.

strasmark said...

Belsohni: That sounds horribly depressing. But this is worse, in a way: in addition to my sisters ignoring this place, I had sent my Dad this blog address ages ago. That stings worse than when my Mom whacked me with a ketchup bottle (it was empty, and plastic, so no harm done).

Daniel: I believe you, really.

Craig: I believe you too.

Tasha: Was I wearing glasses in that photo? Because that might explain some things...