I can’t imagine any way I could ever fill up all the Web space I’m paying for, and no doubt this is one reason why I clutter up the archives with an additional 150 pages or so every single month. (Another is sheer packratitude, a tendency I exhibit in Real Life, despite the urgent need for occasional decrapification.)
Not everyone is quite so indifferent to the load. For example:
Up to now, it’s all been contained in a single MS Access database file. That file peaks out at 100+MB and takes fifty minutes for City Desk to publish. Eventually, I will have to devise or buy a better method of handling the thing. But for now, I’m taking the view that no archive file past two years old is so worthwhile as to need to be preserved online. I have, accordingly, cut off the archive at the beginning of June, 2006. Anything older than that will not be accessible for a while. And, if I find it’s no loss, that “while” may become permanent.
My own database is only about 16 MB right now, but it got up close to 75 before it crashed in September ’06, and I shudder every time I go through a mass rebuild. Still, all the old pages remain in stasis, which is helping to choke the life out of everything:
Now there’s 8 million people building their Google-fu, with their tags and their five-way archive systems and their carefully-coddled text.
Everything archives now! The internet is a vast disaster. Is there any conceivable reason that Twitter needs to keep all our stupid-precious text messages forever?
What the internet needs is a great big server wipe. The ephemeral is way more important. If you want to keep it forever, get a Moleskine and a fireproof safe and put that in a concrete bunker. What good is it doing you anyway?
Which brings us back to packratitude (packrattery?). A vicious circle, this.