How this works
Somebody sells a Linux machine in pieces. Each piece behaves like a small computer of its own. This page says which parts of one are yours — first as something most people have already rented, then as seven pictures of the real thing.
Or skip it — take whichever of these you are:
- Quick start — you were sent a share code. Claim it, log in, install a website, point your domain at it, get the padlock. Twelve steps, each with a picture.
- Running a machine of your own — you rent a server, or have hardware of your own, and you want to cut it into containers and hand them out.
It is a room, not a flat
You move to a city for work. A three-bedroom flat to yourself would be absurd: you are out all day and you come back to sleep. So you rent one room in one, and the kitchen is everybody's.
That is this entire product, with a computer instead of a flat. Six pictures, and then the same thing again without the comparison.
A whole one is more than one person needs.
Eight cores, 32 GB of memory, a terabyte of disk and an address of its own is what a machine comes as. A small website uses a fraction of one core and a few hundred megabytes, and spends most of the day asleep. Renting the whole thing is renting a flat to keep one bed in.
So somebody cuts it up.
Walls go up and the rooms are let one at a time. Your room is yours — your key, your things, nobody else walks in. The kitchen, the bathroom and the front door are shared, and they work perfectly well that way.
Your room here is called a container: your files, your software, your services, and you are its administrator. Shared underneath are the Linux, the machine and one address to the world. You cannot see into anybody else's and nobody can see into yours.
Your own key.
Everybody walks in through the same front door, and the key in your hand decides which room opens. Here the front door is the machine's address — 203.0.113.7, the same one for everybody on it — and the key is your username. The part before the @ is the whole of what decides which room you get.
Your name on the door.
Post arrives at one street address, and the name on the door decides whose it is. Here one machine answers on one address, and the name your visitor typed decides which room answers. A name pointed at your room is yours for as long as you hold the room, and nobody else on that machine can take it.
The room comes furnished.
You are there for a year, or a few months. Nobody buys a bed for that, so the room comes with one, and a desk, and a lamp. You bring your clothes.
Your container arrives with a working Linux already on it — Alpine, which is small enough to leave the memory you are paying for to your own software — and a menu that installs the rest: a web server, a database, WordPress, Node. You bring your code.
And a lock on the door.
Fit your own lock and you hold the only key. Use the building's and the desk downstairs fits it, replaces it when it wears out, and can open your door. Here the lock is a certificate — what puts the padlock in a browser's address bar — and you choose per name which of the two you want. Your visitor sees the same padlock either way.
The whole comparison at once:
| In the flat | Here |
|---|---|
| the landlord who split it up | your host |
| your room | your container |
| a bed, a desk, a lamp | a Linux already running, and a menu that installs the rest |
| your key | your ssh username and password |
| the name on your door | your domain |
| the kitchen and the front door | the Linux underneath, and the machine's one address |
| a lock you fitted yourself | your own certificate |
| the building's lock | a certificate your host looks after |
| the lease | the expiry date on your container |
| the water and the electricity | your traffic allowance for the month |
Where the comparison stops: a wall in a flat is a wall. Here it is the Linux underneath that keeps the rooms apart, and the host owns that — a landlord with a master key can open any door in the building, and this is no different.
The rest of this page is the same thing again, drawn as what it actually is.
The whole thing on one page
Three words this site uses for the rest of your life here: the panel is the website you sign in to, the machine is the computer your box runs on, and the host is whoever owns that machine. You are a holder — one box on it is yours.
One machine, cut into pieces
Your piece is called a container, and it behaves like a small computer of its own: its own files, its own installed software, its own services. You are its administrator. You cannot see into anybody else's, and nobody can see into yours.
The numbers are what your host sold you — processor, memory, disk, and a traffic allowance for the month. What happens when you reach one of them is on using your container.
Your login is yours because of the username
Same address, same door, different room. The name in front of the @ is the whole of what decides which room you get.
The password is checked at the machine's front door rather than inside your box. That is why the panel is where you change it, and why wiping your box does not cost you the way in.
Your website is yours because of the name
One machine can serve any number of websites, and the name the visitor typed is what decides which box answers. Two things follow:
- your site has an ordinary address, with no port number stuck on the end;
- a name pointed at your box is yours while you hold it — nobody else on that machine can take it.
Inside your box you can run as many services as you like, and each name can be sent to a different one.
You do not have to know any commands
Most people have never typed a command, and nobody wants to learn which package names their particular Linux uses this year. So there is a menu. Type one word:
root@wp-1:~# app-setupEnter opens the one under the cursor, and its own page is where things happen:
It installs the same software the same way a person following a blog post would, so the next set of instructions you read still applies, and updates keep arriving the ordinary way. Anything you would rather do by hand, you still can.
Quick start drives it, step by step.
Two ways to get the padlock
A certificate is what puts the padlock in the address bar. You have two ways to have one, and you pick per name:
| Your own | The host's | |
|---|---|---|
| What you do | get one and renew it yourself | press a button, once |
| Can the host read your traffic | no | yes |
| Pick it when | you already have one, or that answer has to be "no" | you want a padlock and no homework |
Both need the same thing first: the name has to point at the machine. That is why the quick start sorts out the domain before it asks for a certificate.
The panel is not in the way
The panel is not on the second line. When it is down your website keeps answering, your login keeps working, and everything you have installed carries on — only its buttons have to wait.
Where next
- Quick start — a share code to a working website.
- Running a machine of your own — the other side of all of this.
Advanced is everything you read later, if at all: using your container for what a limit feels like when you reach it and what a rebuild takes away, building your own image if the system you want is not on the published list, and adding your own software if you want your own entry in the install menu. The quick start gets you a working site without any of it.