15 Gigabytes of Fame

I think that everyone who screws around with the Internet ought to experience the joy of being slashdotted at least once. I confess I am afraid to check how much bandwidth was used yesterday, though the last time that my webhost was assaulted by a brief spike in my web popularity they were very forgiving about it and did not end up making me pay for the pressure I'd put on their pipes.

On the other hand, the last time around we were talking about five thousand people trying to watch Space Attack! all at once -- this time we're talking about half a million people.

Also, I've received quite a bit e-mail.

I am currently in a state of madness, trying to finish all of the commissions I've taken on before I'm slapped down with two thick bookings of animation work (a show with Scott Thompson, and some top secret item I'm told is based on the visual style Terry Gilliam used for his animated Monty Python sequences). Because some of this work is being done through unrepentent socialist enlightened government programmes, the pay is staggeringly bad and my invoices have to be issued in quadruplicate for some ass-chafingly unfathomable bureaucratic reason.

But work is work.

I've been invited to a few more film festivals, which is always nice. Now if I only I had the time to animate some films, I'd have something to show and tell. Naturally, I can't afford to actually attend any of these festivals, but I'll send them a DVD of Space Attack! to exhibit for want of anything better or newer.

The catalyst of these invitations is Mother Google: a search for "short movies" has been returning my site on either the first or second page of results, usually right above or right below Pixar. The mind reels imagining the possibilities if only I had some actual content there. Ah, me. At any rate, every schlub organising a film festival googles short movies, watches my stuff and loads of them seem to be contacting me with an invite.

The affirmation would be nicer if these weren't for the most part barely cloaked attempts to persuade every idiot possible to cough up an entry fee. It's all about the greenbacks, baby. Never the less, being invited usually means a break on the fees so I'm signing up and burning discs.

Yes -- and there was more hot sex with the missus last night. What's she eating lately? Jesus Murphy Brown! I need to buy more of it, whatever it is, and start dissolving it in her tea. She was only slightly put out by my posting this drawing of her curvy bits the other day, but I had to make her a pretty fine breakfast before the last vestiges of stinkeye had fully vanished. Now she's telling everyone to go look at it.

And, like I said, a few hundred thousand people are doing just that.

The Internet is weird.