We Are All Googlers

In a world of noise, white noise, black noise, noisy neighbors, noisy Top 40 claptrap, noisy espresso machines, maddening puppets, phlegmatic hobos, whiny preachers, the noise of alarm clocks, dentist drills, and escort sirens, noisy diatribes against gays, illegals, terrorists, liberals, freedom fighters, smokers, noisy PA announcements, noisy cheerleaders, noisy money shots, wedding vows, gruesome divorces, noisy heart attacks, noisy cute cute cuteness, noisy scuttlebutts--with all this noise, why bother with another noisy blog? Don't you already have enough to worry about? Like getting some peace and quiet, a little shuteye, a toothy smile from a grinning monk--to belch your beer without having to say "Sorry?" By its very essence, privacy is quietude, but I have decided to join the seething masses, hooting, hollering, throwing pebbles at your windowpane.    

   "You're a writer," my friend Adrian Storey, tells me. I half-expect him to say a writer writes (something my mother declaims when the letters taper off or my girlfriend remarks in periods of settled indolence). No, what Adrian Storey means is that if you want to exist (as a writer, photographer, artist, etcetera), it's not enough to dream and love (fluttering hearbeat motions that are anything but silent, tolling with joy as their wont)--not enough, you gotta blog, fellah, another teardrop in the storm.

Uchujin

   Actually, Adrian Storey (who goes by the moniker, Uchujin, which in Japanese literally means Spaceman or Alien Dude--he's actually a very sensible person) probably did not mean that a life lived right is a life lived in electronic glass houses. Rather, his intentions are compassionate and realistic. We are all Googlers now. There is a library at our fingertips and bullshit can be sniffed out at a keystroke. A tale of two worlds, where fake is the new reality. To be or not...with that in mind, if you want people to know a little about yourself--what you do, why you do and how you intend to do it--the process entails a bit of disclosure, a time for baring your breast. So...Showcase! Present! Elaborate...