Your Only Source for the Latest About Me
April 27, 2003 - 8:21 p.m.
Last Five Entries:
Today we have math. Don't worry, it won't be difficult math. My major as an undergraduate was English. I filled my math requirment with Introduction to Logic (or, as we called in in the English Department, "Math for Poets").
Since I've started my new diary, one (1) person has added me to her buddy list.
I achieved my one buddy through running five thousand (5,000) banner views.
DiaryLand sells twenty-five thousand (25,000) banner views for $15.00.
That works out to $3.00 per 5,000 banner views.
25,000 / 15 = 5,000 / 3
If it costs $3.00 for 5,000 banner views, and 5,000 banner views yields 1 friend, then that's a cost of $3.00 per friend.
Three dollars is a bargain for a friend, no matter how you look at it.
I noticed when I made my recent buddy list, that all five diaries on it were written by female diarists. There are about five other diaries that I have been visiting with some frequency that aren't on the buddy list. All five of those are written by women.
So what's the deal? Is this some sort of online manisfestation of the "homosexual buffer?"
(For those of you who are not familiar with the phenomenon to which I refer: Heterosexual men never sit beside each other. They prefer to leave empty seats between them, or to have plenty of space between them on a bench. The reason is that heterosexual men fear that accidentally touching another man, while not engaged in a sporting activity, will make them gay.)
Well, I have gone through some rigorous statistical analysis to find the answer. If I can do this for my thesis, I will be golden.
One of the methods which I use to find new diaries to read is following banners. Three of the five diaries on my buddy list were discovered through banners; one of the other five diaries I read was discovered through a banner.
For the past day, I have been following every banner that pops up for me, to record the sex of the diarist to which it leads. I have recorded information on fifty (50) such banner ads.
The most startling discovery is that 24% of all banners lead to LeslieIrene. This is startling, because I could have sworn it was closer to 90%.
(I'll note that she does have an elegant diary.)
The relevant discovery is that 80% of banner clicks led to women's diaries, while 20% led to men's diaries.
Discounting the duplicate banners, clicking on banners led me to 22 women's diaries, and 8 men's diaries. That's still 73% women versus 27% men.
But here's another interesting factoid for you. Of the 8 men's diaries, 5 were by diarists who identified themselves as gay. That's 63%. Only 2 of the 22 women's diaries were by diarists who identified themselves as gay.
(18 of the remaining 20 seemed to be heterosexual, though I was basing that on references to boyfriends and such, and so I might have missed women would would identify as bi-sexual. For the other two, there's insufficient evidence.)
It seems that many heterosexual men find the concept of expressing their feelings to others to just be too gay.
This may explain why 88% of violent criminals are men, and why there are so many wars. But I digress.
The second way I find diaries is by going to the members' area, and just choosing names from the recently updated diaries that seem interesting. One of the diaries on my buddy list came from that method. Her diary name was one letter off from one of my former diary friends, so I had to click it to check to see if it wasn't actually her with a new diary. It wasn't the same diary, but turned out to be a good read. One of the other diaries I regularly read came from the interesting name method, and the name was an obvious female name.
A lot of the names have obvious sexual references. Of course, since I'm obsessed with sex, I end up clicking on them. As it turns out, no matter how many times I've clicked on the diary of a 'popmycherry' or 'freeblowjobs', I've been disappointed.
Some of the diaries I've found because I'm checking out the diary of someone who has signed my guest book. One on my buddy list and two others that I read regularly came from signing my guest book. At the time of writing this, everyone who has touched my guestbook is a woman.
The last diary I read is a guilty pleasure that I used to read when I had my former diary.
I think the numbers cast reasonable doubt on any suspicion that I'm biased toward women.
(By the way, for some reason, diary banners never come up in the member's area. They always seem to pop up when I'm doing something else, like editing my diary or checking stats. Try it, you'll see.)
Here are the results of some surveys. The results were surprising. (Spelling mistakes in the results aren't mine.)
I am 69% Evil Genius
Commentary: I think the score is a result of high Evil, but low Genius.
I am 45% Internet Addict
Commentary: Only a screwed-up internet addict can design a test that rates a screwed-up internet addict like me as not having an internet problem.
I am 44% Tortured Artist
Commentary: I may not have been tortured for my art, but I have tortured for my art. Consider the fate of my high school creative writing teacher, who suffered from lack of creativity. She gave low grades to all of the serious writers in the class, because we didn't write on themes appropriate to our age. One day, she assigned a free writing assignment in our journals while she spent the class elsewhere. I went to the guys in the class, and suggested that for that day, we all write about our sexual fantasies about our teacher. I myself was suggestive, but some of my classmates were quite explicit. I heard later from reliable sources that she was aghast upon reading them, and her colleagues couldn't quite convince her that it was a stupid prank that should be ignored. It was the first and last year that she taught creative writing. By the way, I don't recommend this- it was mean in a way I didn't understand when I was sixteen. But the story seemed appropos.
I am 34% Geek
Commentary: It's a sad day when I'm not cool enough to be a geek.
I am 25% Goth
Commentary: This isn't a surprise. Secretly, I admire the women with the colorful hair and black nails and tattoos and piercings and Victorian clothes and defiance of modern convention. Unfortunately, I usually have little in common with them, not being into the whole death thing. And I can't bring myself to dress up, due to a particular syndrome to which I will refer as: Being Chicken Shit. But I thought I'd try the test anyway.
People lie. Numbers don't.