It is so very tempting to believe this lie. Jetpack, the little beastie that gloms on to my blog and gives me information about number of visitors and number of views in any given period, wants me to believe it.

Jetpack says, with a straight face, that eighteen German citizens got up today, perhaps searched some of my artfully devised tags, and found my latest post. One or two of them, according to this little monster, also took a bird walk through my archives, and read a bunch of other posts.

I must not be seduced by this mendacity.

It isn’t citizens. It’s the spider-bots. They have come back.

To my mind’s eye, these creatures have form and substance (as opposed to existing merely as a complex arrangement of ones and zeros). I picture one of them crawling through my site, which has taken the form of a glittering spiderweb, sensitive mechanical feet tapping various links as it wanders through. It is curious in a detached, arachnoid sort of way. It transmits some mysterious bit of information to its handler, forgets it was ever here, and wanders on to the next node of potentially useful information.

What do these things want? More specifically, what do their handlers want? Why do they visit me every couple of years? Most people who send virtual hunter-gatherers out into the internet want something more concrete than a mere slaking of curiosity.

I’ve thought about it from every angle, and I can’t figure out how these things could devise a method of ripping me off. Do they want my intellectual property? Do they imagine that they can segue from my blogsite to my bank account?

Anyway, the vast army of spider-bots, and the occasional soldier that visits me, have so far done nothing more to me than just give me the creeps. Let’s hope it stays that way.