Handcrafting My Web Site

I’ve been tinkering a lot with my web site lately—I find writing code to be relaxing, and it helps relieve stress.

My personal web site has been around for thirty years … and it looks it. I’ve never felt any need to change its design: the design works well, even if it’s far from fashionable. There’s a table of contents on the left, and content on the right, plus a banner at the top. Simple. Nothing moves or slides or jiggles. There are no pop-ups. There are no ads. The site is not monetized. Visitors are not tracked. There are no sponsors. I’m not selling anything. I don’t ask anyone to “create an account” or “choose a subscription plan” just to look at the site.

Most of the site content is text, but the two sections that receive the most visitors are the Paris photo gallery and the (Paris) street scenes gallery. The photo gallery is unusual in that I provide extensive descriptions of what each photo shows—something that many web sites can’t be bothered with nowadays. My site can be visited even with JavaScript disabled. It looks the same on desktops, tablets, and smartphones. It can even be navigated with a text-only browser such as Lynx—how many sites today can say that?

I don’t have to ask visitors to accept cookies because I don’t use any. Likewise, I don’t have to ask them to accept tracking pixels or other spy gadgets because I don’t use any. They don’t need to “choose their ad preferences” because there are no ads.

I still have a crusty old feedback form, and a guest book. They don’t seem to get used much.

Behind the scenes, there’s a mountain of code, and I typed every line myself. I’ve built my own content management system, as well as a ridiculously elaborate user account management system, with roles and keys and access control lists that would make a Multician proud … even though I have only two user accounts (one user account, one administrator account). It has been fun to write.

Amazingly, the site receives up to ten thousand visitors a day, but at least 75% of those are not human, i.e., they are bots, spiders, crawlers, scrapers, scanners and evildoers, and the like. I estimate that perhaps several hundred to a thousand real people visit on a typical day.

I derive significant satisfaction from the fact that the entire site is handcrafted by yours truly. There isn’t anything on the site that mystifies me, because I don’t use anything created by anyone else. I know why, for example, particular icons appear in particular positions, because I put them there. I even created the icons.

Baking in Paris

Four consecutive heat waves since June. A historical first for Paris in summer, with record-setting high temperatures. It’s exhausting.

There are certainly hotter places in the world. But the problem is that this is relatively new for Paris. France, like much of Europe, has always been more concerned with chilly weather than warm weather. Cities and buildings are designed to conserve heat, not to shed it. Air conditioning is rare. So when a heat wave occurs, people literally die from the heat.

Forty years ago, “summer” in Paris meant a few days in August where the temperature might exceed 75° F. Nobody needed or installed AC back then. But now, summer in Paris might mean an overnight low of 76°, and a daily high of 106°.

I got my first air conditioner in Paris in the 1990s, when summers started to get too warm for my liking. I ran the AC (a mobile unit) on a handful of the hottest days of the year. Over time, that handful of days expanded into a week or two; then several weeks. During these past few heatwaves, I’ve run the AC almost non-stop for days at a time. It’s expensive—several euro a day—but it’s preferable to the emergency room.

Most people don’t have AC in Paris, and right now they can’t get it, because stores have sold out on fans and air conditioners, and installers of central air are booked for months to come. As a result, thousands of people have died. The media seem to want to emphasize that heat stroke is affecting mostly the very young and the elderly, but after a few days of excessive heat, all age groups start to suffer. Some people living alone are found dead in their apartments, where temperatures might reach 115°. The Parisian architecture that helps lower heating costs in winter turns small apartments into barbecues in summer, especially top-floor apartments that bake beneath Haussmannian metal roofs. Some people (more than 200) have drowned after a temperature shock when they tried to go for a swim in a river or lake.

Public transportation also becomes an ordeal during heat waves. Buses have been measured to reach 120° inside, endangering both the driver and the passengers. Some buses are air-conditioned, but ecologists have opposed widespread adoption of AC in buses (and everywhere else), so these buses are a minority.

Even hospitals don’t have AC, which to me seems like a particularly egregious oversight given that people in the hospital often require tightly controlled environments.

A huge heat wave in 2003 killed 15,000 people. These last four heatwaves this year have been cumulatively more severe. The government promised all sorts of actions in 2003, but nothing was actually done, apart from creation of a new tax, the proceeds from which seem to have been sucked into the black hole of ever-increasing government spending. This time around, new promises are being made: plans are being announced meetings are being organized, press conferences are being held, and so on, but I don’t expect any results. The reality is that everyone needs to accept the need for AC when it gets hot.

More Olympic torment

I spoke too soon. The Olympic nightmare continues.

There’s yet another Major Media Event planned for this weekend. The entire area around the Champs-Élysées will be locked down—again—for some sort of umpteenth taxpayer-funded Olympic parade, even though the Olympics ended weeks ago and the Paralympics ended a week ago. More pat-down searches, identity checks, stores closed, barricades up. It never seems to end.

End of the Olympic Ordeal

The Olympic farce has mercifully ended. Parisians who were prohibited from walking the streets of their own town have now regained some freedom of movement, at least until the next epidemic, sporting event or other excuse to confine them to quarters again. The price of subway and bus tickets, which had doubled during the Olympics, has returned to its pre-farce level, at least for now. The barricades and endless temporary constructions that defaced the city’s attractions during the games are being dismantled. Hopefully the city will soon be given back to its residents.

Hotels and restaurants that had hiked their prices during the Jeux saw their bookings dwindle, unless they were right next to event venues.     Airbnb landlords who had hiked their rates saw the same, as anyone not interested specifically in these Major Media Events stayed away from Paris. And landlords who had evicted their tenants specifically to cash in with short-term rentals during the Games experienced the same disappointments. Good riddance to them all.

I didn’t go out much during the Olympics and Paralympics. You had to have a special pass to enter many areas of the city, which required weeks to get, lots of intrusive paperwork, and a background check—for every movement. It wasn’t worth it.

Speaking of evictions, I am being evicted for the third time. There are severe constraints on raising rents in Paris, so landlords who want to make more money simply evict their tenants. Legally, this can only be done for certain reasons, such as a planned sale of the property or renting the property to a family member, and these were the excuses used in my case on each occasion. Of course, hardly anyone checks up to make sure the apartment is really rented to a relative or sold, and some apartments are simply rented out again at a significantly higher price. There is a perpetual shortage of housing in Paris, especially after you deduct all the empty, unrented properties owned by rich, absentee foreigners,  and Airbnb-style short-term rentals to tourists.

Let’s hope it will be at least another hundred years before the government forces another instance of the Olympic Games down the throats of Parisians.

The New Year, and the Olympic farce

Only two posts a year; I guess I’m not the most prolific blogger around. But nobody reads the blog anyway.

Last night was New Year’s Eve, and 1.5 million people were expected on the Champs. In fact, “only” about 800,000 showed up, perhaps because of very tight security and predictions of rain (that did not seem to materialize). The security was sort of a practice run for the 2024 Olympic Games, which will afflict the city this coming summer. There were no incidents, so I guess the draconian security worked.

I didn’t attend the festivities, as I am wary of crowds and firecrackers. I don’t want to be trampled or end up like Pete Townsend.

The festivities apparently made allusion to the 2024 Olympic Games, a farce of astronomical proportions that will cost the taxpayers billions and will make Parisians prisoners in their own homes. And unfortunately it will make Paris even more attractive to terrorists. But a handful of rich people will be further enriched by them, and that’s all that counts.

I recommend that anyone contemplating a trip to Paris defer it or at least avoid it anywhere near the Olympic Games. Even prices in the Métro are being hiked to profit from them.

The Price is Wrong

Inflation is rampant this year, and my fixed subsistence income is not keeping pace, despite occasional cost-of-living increases.

Electricity has gone up by 20%, split into two increases this year. Fifty euro of groceries, carefully selected to maximize value for the money, now covers less than two dozen items, enough for a week of very frugal meals (mostly oatmeal). I’ve read that fuel costs have increased greatly, but fortunately I don’t have or need a car, so I haven’t been directly affected by that. I did see a greater-than-usual rent increase this year, however.

I mainly try to save money by eating less. Grocery costs are the one variable that can be adjusted within a substantial range. In addition to oatmeal, I eat a lot of other cheap carbs, such as pound cake, which provide a lot of calories at a low price. Protein, fruits, and vegetables are usually not affordable. It is hardly ideal, especially in view of my health issues, but it beats starvation.

Inflation would be a lot worse if the government were not intervening right and left to subsidize price controls. I don’t know how long that can continue. I’ve read that this is largely due to a war in Ukraine, but I don’t know how true that is.

Clean and unclean

This year, France is vying for the red badge of courage by banning the use of disposable packaging for fast food consumed on the premises. That is, if you eat at McDonald’s, the restaurant is required to serve your food in reusable containers rather than paper or plastic containers that are thrown away after use. Like a conventional restaurant.

At first glance, it seems like a good idea. Maybe it is. But questions soon arise. It’s ironic that a country that was hysterically paranoid only a year or two ago about spreading a virus with a mortality of less than 0.5%—to the point of locking people up at home with prison terms for escapees—now wants everyone to share food containers with strangers in fast-food restaurants. How well will these containers be washed?

How many infections of all types will be spread by inadequately cleaned containers? That remains to be seen. If you’ve ever noticed the condition of the reusable trays in fast-food places, you can understand my concern—and trays don’t actually touch the food.

The rules don’t apply to take-out food, thank goodness. If and when I can again afford fast food, I think I’ll limit myself to take-out food.

Heart of darkness

Lighting in Paris has been reduced to save electricity.

France has long had plenty of electricity, thanks to extensive investment in nuclear power, but in recent yearsn, its nuke plants—which provide 80/ of the nation’s electricity—have been shut down for maintenance that has not been forthcoming, such that over half of the plants are offline at the moment. I suspect environmentalists have had something to do with this neglect. Anyway, that, plus the Ukraine war, and the Covid hysteria, have backed the country’s grid into a corner. There’s even talk of rolling blackouts during the winter, although that risk seems to be receding. Many have commented that this makes France sound like a Third-World basket case that can’t even ensure electrical power twenty-four hours a day. It surprises me that things were allowed to slide for so long.

Anyway, the Eiffel Tower is going dark earlier than normal at night, the Christmas lights on the Champs are not kept on as late as usual, and merchants are being asked to turn their lights off completely at night.

Hopefully someone will get on the ball and bring all the nuke plants back online soon.

The leper colony

I haven’t been to the Foire des Tuileries, and now it looks like I won’t be able to go this year, as the Reich has now transformed all unvaccinated persons (about half the population) into pariahs who are prohibited from participating in most “non-essential” activities of society. These modern-day lepers are prohibited from entering restaurants and cafés, gyms, shopping centers, amusement parks, theaters, cinemas, concert halls, exhibitions and fairs, conferences, discotheques, bars, clubs, and many other venues. They are also prohibited from using most forms of collective transportation.

I am not vaccinated for several reasons. First, the Deadly Virus isn’t actually deadly—not by a long shot (and that includes the Deadly Delta Variant). Second,  the virus mutates regularly, and is just one of a great many similar viruses, and logically, if I were paranoid enough to seek vaccination for one, I’d have to get vaccination for all. Third, the mRNA vaccines are experimental, and I’m wary of new drugs (thalidomide and fen-phen spring to mind, as well as prion-like delayed-action pathogenic processes). Fourth, while infection rates are increasing, hospitalizations, ICU occupancy, and deaths are not.

I don’t really have any money, anyway, so I only go outside for groceries. Being introverted helps, too, as it has throughout this hysteria.

Rainy day on Champs

It’s interesting that, initially, the government threatened any business that required a vaccination passport without authorization with a year in prison and a €45,000 fine. Now it has completely reversed itself, and threatens the same penalties for businesses that are required to check vaccination passports and fail to do so. But the virus has not changed. And I wonder how everyone is to be made aware of laws that change every day.

Current events

The iron hand has loosened its grip a bit, at least until the government finds a new excuse to trample civil liberties. More and more places are reopening, and Paris is again accessible to tourists, albeit not without numerous restrictions. It remains to be seen how long it will take for the tourists to return. Paris was breaking records for tourism before the Deadly Virus hysteria began. My intuition tells me that there are many potential visitors who can’t wait to return to Paris. But things have changed, and not for the better.

• • •

Last Saturday, the Foire des Tuileries, a yearly summer carnival in the Tuileries Gardens (the park next to the Louvre), opened for its 2021 run. I haven’t been there in several years. It has the usual assortment of thrill rides, a big Ferris wheel, and lots of places selling food that is very tasty. I’ve never been a fan of rides, but the atmosphere is nice, and so is the food. Usually the same rides and concessions appear year after year. There’s a place that sells gyro sandwiches that I really like, plus some stands that sell decadent things like fruity granités (slushy drinks made of frozen fruit-flavored syrups), and fried donut holes and churros. The carnival is on Line 1 of the Métro, making it convenient for tourists. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go this year; we’ll see.

• • •

After an incredible sixteen years of “renovation,” the La Samaritane department store has been reincarnated—in a different body, alas! La Samaritaine was one of the iconic grands magasins of Paris, along with Printemps, Galeries Lafayette, Le Bon Marché, and Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville, as well as the late Aux Trois Quartiers and La Belle Jardinière.

The slogan of Samaritaine used to be “On trouve tout à La Samaritaine” (“You can find everything at Samaritaine”), and this was very nearly true. It catered to the needs of everyday Parisians, in the days when everyday Parisians actually existed in significant numbers. It had great gardening and home improvement departments, and a huge selection of toys at Christmastime. But with increasing gentrification of the area, and everyday Parisians being replaced by absentee foreign millionaires with no need for washing machines or light bulbs, revenues dropped. For this reason, and also in part (supposedly) because of building-code issues with the ornate but aging Art Deco and Art Nouveau buildings occupied by the store, it was closed nearly two decades ago, for renovation and repurposing.

Now it’s open again, but a bit like Aux Trois Quartiers, it has been diced and sliced and reworked so that its owner, luxury retailer LVMH, can make more money. In addition to a much smaller department store concentrating on the type of luxury trinkets that tourists prefer, it includes a boutique hotel, and I think also some offices and housing, and a day-care center (no doubt because the city insisted upon it). At least some of the original architecture has been restored; parts of the complex, at least, have historic landmark status.

Only a few days after it reopened, some external walls of the building were vandalized with graffiti, which aroused considerable public indignation.

• • •

Discotheques and clubs have now been permitted to reopen by the Reich, after being closed for sixteen months. They reopened on Friday—or at least some of them did. Many have stayed closed, in part because of their anticipation of another wave of sweeping restrictions imposed by the Reich, and in part because of the draconian restrictions on how they operate that threaten to make them unprofitable.

And indeed, the dreaded “Delta” variant of the Deadly Virus seems to be producing a new surge in hysteria, just as baseless as its predecessors. Despite an even lower mortality than the standard virus, Big Brother is mumbling about mandatory vaccinations and extensions of the vaccination passport, as well as yet another prolongation of the perpetual state of emergency.

I'm not a clubber myself, but there are several clubs in my neighborhood, and I haven’t noticed any increase in traffic this weekend. I wonder how much business they are doing.

• • •

The Eiffel Tower is set to reopen on the 16th, according to its web site. I only go there when accompanying visitors. The rules are a pain and the cost is too, at €26 per person—price increases have far outstripped inflation.

Louvre in the old days

The Louvre and Orsay museums are both open, with the ubiquitous “health measures” in place. Both require masks, and admission slots must be reserved in advance. I don’t go to these places without visitors, either. Both are much cheaper than the Eiffel Tower, at least.

Disneyland is open now, but a one-day ticket costs €116, and once again, you have to reserve a slot in advance, even with an Annual Pass—and those aren’t being sold yet, so who knows what they will cost? Although I’ve always been a strong Disneyphile, I’ll be forced to refrain for the foreseeable future. It’s no fun in a police state, anyway. I still have my memories of far better days.

• • •

All in all, things are far from business as normal. Will they ever be normal again? Who knows? The future is extremely uncertain these days. Society is dominated by fear, intolerance, extreme attitudes and hysteria. I predict it will get worse before it gets better.