WanderLex

Blog

  • The spectacle before us was indeed sublime

    The spectacle before us was indeed sublime

    Welcome, it’s great to have you here.

    We know that first impressions are important, so we’ve populated your new site with some initial getting started posts that will help you get familiar with everything in no time. This is the first one!

    A few things you should know upfront:

    1. Ghost is designed for ambitious, professional publishers who want to actively build a business around their content. That’s who it works best for.
    2. The entire platform can be modified and customised to suit your needs. It’s very powerful, but does require some knowledge of code. Ghost is not necessarily a good platform for beginners or people who just want a simple personal blog.
    3. For the best experience we recommend downloading the Ghost Desktop App for your computer, which is the best way to access your Ghost site on a desktop device.

    Ghost is made by an independent non-profit organisation called the Ghost Foundation. We are 100% self funded by revenue from our Ghost(Pro) service, and every penny we make is re-invested into funding further development of free, open source technology for modern publishing.

    Example Caption

    The version of Ghost you are looking at right now would not have been made possible without generous contributions from the open source community.

    Next up, the editor

    The main thing you’ll want to read about next is probably: the Ghost editor. This is where the good stuff happens.

    By the way, once you’re done reading, you can simply delete the default Ghost user from your team to remove all of these introductory posts!

  • Musical improvisation is the spontaneous music

    Musical improvisation is the spontaneous music

    It was one of the worst storms to hit London since God knows when. The thunder rolled, lightning flashed and the rain hammered into the roof. There’s something about a storm that brings a sense of doom. It fitted so perfectly.

    When the ITV news flash sign came on the TV screen everyone looked up. When the flash sign was immediately followed by a still of Elvis Presley, a quiet voice breathed, “Oh, my God.”

    This is an example caption

    “Reports are coming in that Elvis Presley, the rock and roll singer, died this evening at his home in Memphis, Tennessee.”

    We all looked at each other in disbelief.

    “Elvis is dead!”

    It didn’t seem quite credible. And yet it wasn’t the kind of shock that followed the news of J.F.K. being cut down. There had been so much speculation about Presley’s mental and physical health that his death was unpleasantly predictable.

    It was almost impossible to know what to think. My first impulse was to pick up the phone and call a couple of people. I tried two numbers, but they were both busy. Obviously other people had reacted the same way. It was the kind of news that demanded to be passed on. Elvis had always been there. For more than two decades he’d maintained a unique position in too many people’s lives. Despite all the depressing rumours it scarcely seemed possible that he’d gone, that Elvis Presley was dead at 42.

    I guess the only word I can use is numb. Numb, and just very slightly embarrassed at the way I was reacting. It wasn’t the ordinary kind of grief that you feel for a personal friend. There was no voice telling me that I’d never see Elvis Presley again. Jesus Christ, I’d never seen him, ever. I didn’t even regret that I’d never get the chance to see him. The Elvis Presley I’d have given my right arm to watch was the wild hoodlum in the gold jacket who vanished into the US Army and never returned. I’d mourned his passing many years ago.