What ARE the Russians Doing?

Amazingly, this piece is not about the election that was finished last month (or Saturday, depending on whether you include the Senate).  It is not about the hacking of the Democratic National Committee, or the leaks of the emails of John Podesta, all of which certainly contributed to the nation's contempt for the way Democrats run their shop, if not to the election result.

After all, Hillary Clinton was simply such a bad candidate that she sank her own ship by being so completely out of touch with the pulse of the nation, and still, based on recent comments, appears to be.

No, it's about the Russians, all right, but I don't have an explanation and I don't have an answer to the question that has been bugging me for a month or so.

Why are the Russians so fascinated with me?

I am, after all. a veritable cipher in the history of our nation.  In my long career, I have done a lot of things, but not accomplished anything lasting that would make me worth a medal, or a holiday, or an MVP award.  No Pulitzer, nor a Nobel Prize for literature is headed my way, although I can say with authority that I have posed for a picture with a Nobel Prize (and its actual winner).

That's me, sans beard, posing third from left with my fraternity brother Dr. Adam Riess, who is holding the prize for Physics he won a few years back for his discoveries regarding universe expansion.  This has nothing to do with Russians, of course, but it is, after all, my column, and if I've got a cool picture, I'm going  to find an excuse to show it.

And I don't think I'm worth reaching out across half the world to read.  OK, I get that the Internet doesn't require much in the way of a "reach", but you get the idea, if not what the heck I'm even talking about.  So let me explain.

The Russians are reading me, and they are reading me regularly and, if I may spin it a bit, they are reading me loyally.

It should not surprise you that the platform on which this site is hosted provides its authors with a reasonable array of statistics on readership.  This is how I know things like what operating systems are used to read the column, and what Internet browsers, and what articles are being read, all on an instantaneous basis, as well as last day, week, month, year and since September 2014, when the first piece was posted on this site.

Now, 544 pieces later, those statistics are telling me that an inordinate percentage of the readers of this column are in, of all places, Russia.  Yes, those good old boys and girls behind what used to be the Iron Curtain, with names ending in "sky" and "ov" and "ev" and"adze" and "in" and the like, are apparently quite interested in what I have to say.

How interested?  Well, I get read in this country, the good old USA, quite a bit, and have some pretty good stats on readership to share if anyone were interested in advertising here.  But over the last week, there were more column-reads (one reading of one column) by Russians than anywhere else on earth, including here.

Other than my opinions, I am not providing any information in this column that is not universally known, unless sharing the fact that "Ted Williams was the greatest Latino baseball player ever" counts.  All you find here other than well-known facts are opinions and, like intestinal tracts, almost everyone has one.  My opinion is every bit as valuable (unfortunately also meaning "every bit as worthless") as anyone else's.

So what, pray tell, do the Russians expect to find here?  That I'm not a fan of Hillary Clinton?  Shoot, if you ask her, she thinks they're the reason she isn't the president-elect now, and that it has nothing to do with her being an out-of-touch leftist with no track record of accomplishment.  Nobody is much of a fan of Hillary any more.  And Bill is probably pretty happy.

But I did want to point out, for the record and for my American readership, that not only are you not alone, but it is imperative that you start going back to earlier columns and enjoying them, because the Russians have zoomed past you in readership.

And darn it, that's a race we need to win.

Copyright 2016 by Robert Sutton
Like what you read here?  There's a new post from Bob at www.uberthoughtsUSA.com at 10am Eastern time, every weekday, giving new meaning to "prolific essayist."  Sponsorship and interview inquiries cheerfully welcomed at bsutton@alum.mit.edu or on Twitter at @rmosutton.