How it Works

I have a lot of fun with this blog.

It is always interesting to view my Feedjit tracker and see where people are when they land at Round Bend. I've written on an array of topics here, and people around the world have an interest in many of the things I write about.

Eighty-percent of my traffic comes from Google, people surfing for stuff.

They don't stick around this blog for long in most cases, and you have to wonder if the landing even registers in their surf-soaked minds at times.

Once, months ago, I wrote a short analysis of the similarities between the poetic sensibilities of Baudelaire and Bukowski. I see that combo a lot; people around the world seem to understand and hunger for the poetry of those two giants.

The poets have a tremendous affinity, which Buk may have understood, though Baudelaire was in no position to appreciate the fact. He died many years before Buk arrived on the scene.

I hope when the lovers of Buk and Baudelaire see my short essay here they appreciate what I've written.

Who knows?

Another search topic I see frequently is Irwin Shaw's "The Eighty-Yard Run." This masterful short story, which I've cited several times here, is a big draw. Would-be short story writers out there, trying to solve the mysteries of the masters, want to know what makes this story special.

I've written quite a a bit here about Africa and the AIDS epidemic, a huge subject worldwide, of course. Readers from Canada, New Zealand and Great Britain are digging deep into the subject, curious about what's what on the battlefront against the insidious disease.

Round Bend, without a technical and scientific approach to the epidemic, may give these readers some small input regarding the tragedy of AIDS.

Lord knows this blog won't sate them, but they look nonetheless. If only for a moment.

Other subject matter supersedes all of the above however as I read through my list of visitors' searches every day.

 The two biggest? "Punk lyrics" and "big tattooed tits."

Are you surprised?

Every degenerate asshole in the world arrives here because I've written, fleetingly, about punks and sucky tattoos and big creamy tattooed tits, themes of great import in the new modernism evidently.

And it's happening all because I, in a moment of absurd clarity, made this blog entry on July 21, 2010.

Now isn't that something?



TS