Okeydoke

All righty. Not sure exactly how this is going to work.

A journal? Not exactly. It's, uh, "public," despite the fact that I don't plan on telling anyone about the damn thing. I guess it would be nice if random members of the public accidentally find their way here and return once in a while. This is low-grade exhibitionism, I suppose; the hope is that it will fertilize my retarded creativity. Don't laugh. There are plenty of examples of activities initiated for the wrong reasons that end up serving higher purposes. Most US food aid in famine relief is surplus grain from oversubsidized sectors. And Gandhi, Solzhenitsyn, Frederick Douglass? In it for the chicks. Also: beer. Though it smelled awful and tasted worse, I first tried it because of peer pressure. Now it's a boon companion, providing sustenance, shelter, warmth, and wisdom. So I guess what I'm saying is that my blog is like some fantastic synergy resulting from the improbable confluence of famine relief, Gandhi, and beer.

I do hope that it improves my relations with the interweb. The roster of sites I visit regularly has shrunk to a handful. With hundreds of millions of options, there's an oddly immutable path dependency to my habitual clicking. Note the links: if I know any of these people at all, it's at least one degree removed. Somehow, the sites were recommended to me; I liked them; they ended up as quick links on my browser. And there they remain, permanent, canonical. Improbable as it may seem, there may be better sites out there. I won't discover them. Websurfing is the single exception to my masochistic obsession with opportunity costs.