the_size_of_things raze the word count function that tracks the number of blathes on blue has never worked over here. i think the architecture of red is just a little bit different. the system doesn't automatically update itself to generate links to new words and underscore-connected phrases in existing blathes unless someone adds something to them after the fact to "refresh" them, allowing those new connections to be made. blue must have an automated script that keeps finding all the new links and creating the appropriate hypertext (this is borne out by the index pages; all the blathes on blue show the current date no matter how old they are, while on red they show the date they were last added to). and there are no three_words on the red homepage. but i was curious: just how many blathes are there on red_blather? how many things are all_the_things? how much stuff is all_the_stuff? without the ability to look at what's in the h directory, it's impossible to arrive at an exact number. the index_of_h created by user_24 in 2003 helps, but a lot of subsequent blathes beginning with the letter h aren't accounted for. we can get pretty close, though, by adding up what can be seen. 18,798 blathes that begin with letters + 193 blathes that begin with numbers + 96 blathes that begin with underscores = 19,087 total blathes there's probably somewhere around a 1,000-blathe margin for error with all those missing h blathes. round it up to 20,000, and i'd be willing to bet that's right about where we're at now, give or take a few. there are 77,340 blathes (and counting) on blue. there are around 20,000 (and counting) on red. that makes almost 100,000 blathes between the two_blather_worlds. it helps to explain why even after all these years of exploring i still feel like i haven't even scratched the surface of all there is to see. and i love that. 210803 ... unhinged i couldn't write about it much especially publicly because i had this irrational fear that if i talked about it that if i healed from that trauma of it (watching the life leave your body) that somehow you would magically disappear from all my memories erased so i clung to the pain of it like a twisted dirty security blanket until the deep voice that always chases away the bullshit convinced me how stinky things were getting around here we both knew i would react like this we both avoided conversation in your end we both needed our hand held letting go of this pain does not erase the last forty years letting this heart fuse back together into more or less one piece does not thieve away the memories genetic or spatial the storm always subsides 210803 what's it to you? who go blather from