A Note About Whatever

This is a small thing, but worth noting: I occasionally see this site referred to as “whatever.com”. In fact, it’s not: I don’t own the whatever.com domain name (or any “whatever” domain name, for that matter), and the people who do own it won’t sell it to me. If you point people to whatever.com when referring to this site, they will go somewhere else. The URL for Whatever is http://whatever.scalzi.com.

I think what might be confusing people is the fact that if you type “whatever” into Google, this site pops up as the first reference; that and the fact that maybe they just assume I have the “.com” to go with “whatever.” Well, I wish I did. I should have thought about that ten years ago. Stupid lack of a time machine.

In any event: If you do link into Whatever — and thanks if you do! — please be sure to get the URL right. Thanks.

21 Comments on “A Note About Whatever”

  1. This blog isn’t listed on the Wikipedia entry for “Whatever”–maybe someone more technically capable than I can remedy the situation?

  2. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang, betwixt demons.


    or as we say in our household… “So be it.”

  3. Isn’t Google cool? It knows where the Whatever is. Oh and now I have to go see to what use those other people are putting your domain.

  4. What’s sad is the total lameosity of whatever.com — is anybody really going to use them for the items they advertise?

  5. I’ve told the people who own it that whenever they want to sell it to me, to let me know, but I keep not hearing back from them. They’ve been “planning to do something with it” for a few years now.

  6. I wouldn’t be willing to pay a stupid amount for Whatever.com. I don’t have the money to pay a stupid amount, to begin, and even if I did, there are better things to spend a stupid amount of money on.

  7. It’s a fake directory. It’s put together to drive traffic to certain sites, and to profit from our host’s fame. In the biz this sort of situation is known as cybersquatting.

  8. Gahhh, I hate domain squatters. They make me want to pump an aircraft carrier full of cold custard and pilchards and drop it on them from 20,000 feet.

  9. Well, it’s not there to profit from my fame, since someone owned Whatever.com before I started doing this site (and before anyone knew anything about it). It’s a placeholder for the owners, who aren’t doing anything else with it.

  10. That the owners of whatever.com are not running a specific website does not mean that they are not using the domain. They may be using it solely for the email address (although their MX records would indicate otherwise). Still, that’s their business and not mine. So long as they own it, it’s theirs to do with as they like.

  11. Interesting… whatever.com has the same look as the cybersquaters sitting on my domain.

    My vetquiz.com domain expired while I was out of country and got snatched up. My fault, yes, yet these punks have not done anything with it for years now. Same bogus web page. Burns me up.

  12. I feel for you; we’re in exactly the same boat, and we constantly notice people assuming that our URL is “makinglight.com” rather than (as it is) nielsenhayden.com/makinglight.

    My only brilliant act of early domain acquisition was to register tor.com in 1994, and a few years later, I gave it to my employers for nothing more than glory.

  13. Just read Wikipedia entry on H. L. Mencken. Sounds like a fascinating man. Would be interested to learn about your plans and personal motivation.

  14. Apparently S.T. Joshi has written a bio of Mencken. He did an incredible job following HPL’s life, and seems to have branched out into other prominent atheists.

    It would be worth checking out.

  15. John started “Taunting the Tauntable” in 1998. In chronological order of creation:

    whatever.net 04 May 1995
    whatever.org 11 Jul 1996
    whatever.com 14 Aug 1997

    Where John may have missed the boat:

    whatever.biz 27 Mar 2002
    whatever.info 13 Jul 2003


  16. It funny because i just typed whatever.com in the browser bar (is that what its called?) and it took me right here.

    This sight has just trumped the whatever.

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