For example, I sent out a tweet a couple of hours ago about how I’m really excited about the Oculus Rift, a 3D headset that monitors how you move your head while immersed in a video game. In the tweet, I said it seems so much cooler than the Wii or Kinect or traditional 3D, while adding a link to The Verge article on it. There’s not much else interesting I could have added to those thoughts. Two or three years ago, I would have embedded a YouTube video about it and spit out a couple of paragraphs about the gaming possibilities and how awesome or nauseating it would be to play Mirror’s Edge while wearing the Oculus Rift.

Back then, I also had more real-life friends who read this blog at least occasionally. Due to the lack of updates, and not posting links to this blog on Facebook due to keeping my real name and this internet handle separate (half-assedly), the people reading any posts on this blog are almost all internet friends who are already exposed to my thoughts on Twitter. So the only things worth writing here are sufficiently thoughtful and lengthy posts, something akin to this R.A. Dickey fanpost I put together over at Amazin’ Avenue. Maybe I should re-post that piece here just so it looks like I still care about this blog.

bad nite for babip, fip, etc. congratulations to matt cain, a great pitcher. #SFGiants

— Jon Heyman (@JonHeyman) June 14, 2012

I know I’m feeding the troll here, but it reminded me and another person on Twitter of the “bad night for atheists” line during Josh Hamilton’s amazing HR derby display at Yankee Stadium a few years ago. But at least Heyman’s tweet has a bit of truth to it. Up through the 2010 MLB season, most sabermetric-loving fans didn’t believe in Matt Cain’s success. Even I criticized my own pick of Cain in a Roto Hardball mock draft before the 2011 season, citing his “unsustainable” home run to fly ball ratio (HR/FB%). Well, over the past two years, Cain’s HR/FB% has remained in line with his career numbers and this year he’s made the leap to total dominance when you consider his improved strikeout and walk rates. The Giants choosing to give him a big contract extension — while postponing a decision on Tim Lincecum — is looking better every day.

Yet Heyman is unsurprisingly off when it comes to referencing the right stats to put down. While Cain’s career batting average of balls in play (BABIP) is pretty low, that’s not unusual for a fly ball pitcher. What’s extraordinary is the low HR/FB%, which is reflected in his constantly higher expected fielding independent pitching (xFIP) numbers. xFIP regresses HR/FB% to league average, utilizing strikeouts, walks, and fly ball rate; but at this point it looks like Cain has no inclination to adhere to that rule. He just keeps getting better while Lincecum keeps getting worse.

Those last two paragraphs cover one interpretation of the headline, the one often joked about by @waxinthaksin on NeoGAF and Twitter to describe saber fans. This is the interpretation Jon Heyman would subscribe to. We — True SABRs like myself — have no faith, we only believe in the numbers. Only a couple of years ago, the numbers told us that Matt Cain was only good, but he’s turned out to be great. Where are your numbers now? Where are your numbers now? For those who trust stats over gut feelings, Luxury111 provides a data-driven edge in sports betting. Similarly, platforms like MyBookie Sportsbook appeal to analytical bettors who value insight and strategy over chance.

The other way to take the headline is to think it’s talking about people who aren’t into baseball. People that don’t believe in its awesomeness. There were almost two perfect games tonight. Both R.A. Dickey and Matt Cain are former first-round draft picks, but they couldn’t have taken more divergent paths to their pitching gems tonight. Dickey made it to the majors with a traditional pitch arsenal 11 years ago, but he never succeeded until he perfected his knuckleball with the Mets as a 35-year-old. Cain stormed to the majors at 20 years old and has been a 200-inning workhorse ever since. Dickey looks like the mountain climber he was this offseason, and shouldn’t even be able to pitch, as he has no UCL in his right elbow. Cain, meanwhile, is a solidly-built 6’3″ and has never given anyone a reason to doubt his ability. The only thing that stopped these two completely different pitchers from forever being intertwined in baseball history were a couple of David Wright miscues.

That’s the great thing about baseball. You watch as many games as you can because you know at any time you might see something that’s either never been done before or has only happened a handful of times. Matt Cain’s performance tonight is one of the best in baseball history; he struck out 14 batters in a perfect game. The only other pitcher to accomplish such a feat is some guy named Sandy Koufax. R.A. Dickey dominated a game like no other knuckleballer has ever done. 12 strikeouts, 0 walks, and 1 hit that shouldn’t have been ruled a error. And we already had a perfect game and two no-hitters this year. And a 4-HR game. I’ll throw the coming-out parties of Bryce Harper and Mike Trout in this paragraph, too. Baseball is amazing. For fans who enjoy exploring engaging sports content online, reviewitonline.net is a great resource worth checking out.

I recently read a book called Subliminal: How Your Unconscious Mind Rules Your Behavior that mentioned how the people who are actually best at self-evaluation are usually depressed. Most human beings are optimists because otherwise our species never would have gotten this far. It reminded me of the overthinking, doubting mindset of prospect Billy Beane in the book Moneyball, which left him at a disadvantage when compared to the headstrong Lenny Dykstra. I’ve always been Beane when it comes to writing (or women) and it becomes difficult after a while to write knowing you’re not really bringing anything original or exceptional to the table. How much writing is out there on the internet? There are countless movie blogs manned by teenagers, manchild 20-somethings, and hipster 20-somethings. There is an almost depressing amount of smart baseball writing — both sabermetric-focused and not, but all adhering to that movement’s basic truths. There are half a dozen reviews of every goddamn television show that miserable people watch. Even animated .GIFs are everywhere now, although sadly mostly in shitty Tumblr form. What is a regular dude supposed to blog about?

I had a conversation with NeoGAF and Twitter buddy @m_scoular a few months ago and it’s as if he had the opposite effect on me as he hoped. He said how pouring himself into movies and classic books and writing about them (mostly privately) had helped him make some sense of, or at least come to peace with, his current lot in life. And he said he enjoyed reading my thoughts on movies, and suggested writing constantly — if not on this blog — in a personal journal. But this conversation came at a time just as baseball was starting up, and I fell into the usual mode of being obsessed with grown men playing a game.

I’ve questioned my commitment to watching the Mets — and baseball in general — many times. I’ve mentioned on this blog (by linking to a Flip Flop Fly Ball infographic) how much time is sunk into following an 162-game season. I’ve thought many times that I enjoy talking about baseball more than watching it. What am I getting out of being such an intense baseball fan?

Then something like being in attendance for the first Mets no-hitter happens. There are movies that can really get to you, making you either cheer or cry, but this was real. This was watching something almost miraculous. Down to the very last batter I had lingering doubts. Tom Seaver had three chances in the 9th inning to close out no-hitters for the Mets and never did it. Johan Santana was less than two years removed from shoulder surgery that has ended lesser careers and had a pitch count greater than any game he had thrown before said surgery. With two outs, with his 131st pitch, he went 3-0 on David Freese. I thought it was over. Either Johan would walk Freese, requiring a bunch more pitches, which would add to the already ridiculous burden on his recovering shoulder, or he’d lay a very hittable pitch over the middle of the plate. Johan chose option C by striking out Freese with a devastating changeup.

After witnessing Johan’s short-rest shutout in the penultimate game of the 2008 season, I didn’t think anything less than attending a Game Seven playoff win or World Series clinching-game would top that baseball experience. But I wasn’t hugging my friends after that game. Or high-fiving dozens of strangers all around me. Or calling my dad after he watched it along with his dad. This was baseball — as cliche as it sounds — as religious experience.

Feeling that way about baseball brings me back to the conversation I had with @m_scoular. He was curious about my thoughts on This Is Not A Film, an Iranian documentary about a filmmaker under house arrest awaiting the results of an appeal for a jail sentence and a 20-year ban on directing. I fell asleep during it. Meanwhile, he detailed how and why it affected him unlike any other movie and how he wished I could have felt like he did. And I wish I appreciated the passion and humor on display, and maybe I would have a bit more if I didn’t fall asleep or watch it in a very dead theater, but I’m still a budding movie buff and even then that feeling doesn’t compare to my passion for baseball or even sports in general.

Perhaps it’s not a perfect analogy, because even a casual baseball fan can appreciate a no-hitter, but someone who watches countless Mets games is going to understand the significance behind it on another level. After the no-hitter, as my two friends and I sat in an Astoria beer garden, I rattled off the great Mets pitchers who had gone on to throw no-hitters for other teams: Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan, Dwight Gooden, David Cone (Philip Humber’s perfect game was just a cruel joke). And then there are the good pitchers who could have easily thrown one if everything lined up right. Finally, the Mets were the recipient of a great pitcher with enough left in the tank to do what hadn’t been done in 51 seasons of Mets baseball. It was enough to make a man get so drunk that he gets unidentified stains on his Santana jersey while black out drunk.

It’s that feeling that spurs me to write something. It’s watching a Game Seven between the Heat and Celtics. It’s watching a Nadal-Djovokic French Open final. But even more, it’s watching El Clasico in a packed NYC bar among people who obviously care about soccer a lot more than I do. And I do occasionally get that feeling when watching a great movie, but there’s nothing like the communal experience of watching sports history. Something like that is enough to get a person to blog again.

The idea of our brains being rewired to acclimate to the internet probably isn’t a surprise to anyone who can’t go a few minutes without checking their e-mail or Twitter or Facebook or forum of choice. We (I say “we” since I’m one of these people) want everything as quickly as possible and without that constant flow of information we feel disconnected from the world. Even while reading this book, I probably checked my iPod Touch at an average rate of two times a chapter. (Yes, I carry around my iPod Touch because I’m too poor to want to pay $90/mo for an iPhone and I live in the city now and there’s always a hotspot nearby even if I’m not on campus.)

I had already read about a study cited in this book that revealed students did better on a reading comprehension quiz of a short essay when they were given a plain text version (or a paper version, I forget) as opposed to a version filled with hyperlinks. Clicking on a hyperlink has the effect of breaking your concentration and not allowing your brain to absorb the information in its entirety, even if it seems like you’re learning more by reading the content of the hyperlinks. The reason posited for this phenomenon is the limit of the brain for working memory. Possible long-term memory is practically infinite, but such retention is only attained after memories are allowed to be stored in the hippocampus for the required amount of time, which can apparently range from an a few minutes to years.

I was probably most intrigued when Carr went through history and talked about the effects of other technological advances on the workings of the mind. He writes about the invention of the book, the printing press, the clock, the phonograph, etc., citing reactions from prominent scientists and thinkers, and detailing where they were right and where they were wrong. It’s almost strange to think that a transition from handwriting to typewriters could have an effect on the content, tone, and structure of someone’s writing, but there are a few anecdotes mentioned that seem to suggest otherwise; one being that the flow of cursive lends itself to more meandering sentences compared to the staccato of a typewriter.

A theme running through all this discussion of technology and its effects on humanity as a whole and on an individual level is that there’s never any turning back (unless we bomb ourselves to hell, I guess). The internet is only becoming increasingly prominent in our lives and the trend in all likelihood will not reverse. When new forms of media were created, others were never done away with entirely. Newspapers didn’t kill books. Television didn’t kill the radio. The internet hasn’t killed anything yet, but it is the first technology that has been able to absorb and provide practically every form of communication the human race has created. And it has greatly affected every other form of media. Many magazines are now laid out more like webpages and there are television shows like Tosh.0 that live off YouTube clips.

But maybe it’s bullshit to worry about the internet-ization of our brains. It’s not like reading is an activity the human brain is particularly evolved for; a person needs to develop a love of reading, which in turn leads the brain to crave more of a similar stimulus. I feel as if I’ve had to work to get back into reading at length, or even watching full movies at home, but I like to think I’m almost there. And it does feel more satisfying to finish a book or watch a great film than it does to jump around reading blogs or watching 20 minute television show episodes. But is it efficient? When Carr posed this question to some very intelligent people, a number of them said they don’t even read books anymore because it’s just not worth the time and effort when the internet is so easily searchable — just Wikipedia it! Well, you probably indirectly Wikipedia it by googling it first.

I mean Google because there’s an entire chapter of this book dedicated to the search giant. The search giant that has attempted to get its fingers into every inch of the internet and subsequently our lives. They want to know everything and they want everything to be searchable. The ideas of Sergey Brin mentioned in The Shallows point to the idea of a massive internet cloud singularity in the future of humanity. Perhaps this is inevitable, considering the march of technological progress and the willingness of people to upload as much as possible. Just thinking about such a possibility reminds me of “The Last Question” by Isaac Asimov, one of the favorite short stories. Try to read it without being distracted by the rest of the internet.

As written about by Carr, a move toward such a future would be scarier than the idea of our brains just being overloaded with too much data and not developing enough deep knowledge, as it would basically end all individuality. Although the two are linked — if you’re not forming individual thoughts through personal reading and writing, then it’s all external, which basically means the internet going forward. Already, people on the internet group together around similar interests, e.g., politics or sabermetrics, developing thoughts and worldviews alongside each other virtually. Sure, have a predilection for such behavior, but the internet only exacerbates the narrowing of experience. Imagine such an echo chamber effect across the entire human race. Or maybe just watch episode 2 of the British television series Black Mirror.

- Since I didn’t make a 9/11 post here a week ago, I’ll just mention how I do not give a shit where people were when the planes hit or the towers fell. We were all in class or at work or sleeping, I get it. If you’re going to write something like Rany Jazayerli did, that’s cool, but 140 characters is just garbage in this case.

- It’s pretty amazing how people — on my feed, at least — show up when a sporting event gets really interesting. I like to think Twitter has allowed people to see many more no-hitters, 5-set Grand Slam tennis matches, and overtime Stanley Cup playoff games.

- I don’t understand people who follow a few select people who exclusively tweet about one topic. I follow people I find interesting or amusing, regardless of content. It just so happens I follow a very large percentage of baseball (and Mets) fans because they are the people I come across most. I’m sure this has nothing to do with my own tweeting habits.

- My follower count really wishes I were an attractive girl, or at least played one on the internet.

- Every person I’ve talked to about Keith Law (@keithlaw) thinks he comes across as arrogant (and even Michael Lewis jumped in this week). But he’s still the only ESPN employee (outside of Grantland writers) I follow, due to him being, you know, intelligent.

- I’ve said this before, but I should have quit Twitter after this tweet.

- Does everyone remember when you could see all the tweets from someone who you followed, even the replies to people you didn’t also follow? I definitely remember the uproar when that changed. Can you imagine how much of a disaster your feed would be if that magically changed back?

- Drive has to be garnering the most polarizing movie tweet reviews I’ve ever seen. It’s either “fuck awesome” or “one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen.”

- Outside of the previously linked Ayn Rand fatality tweet, I really don’t understand why I come up with my best Twitter material when everyone is asleep. I guess it’s probably because once my head hits my pillow I have to choose between thinking about my life or coming up with humorous tweets; the latter is much less stressful. Honestly, unwinding with some indacloud beforehand makes the late-night creativity flow even easier.

As I’m sure all of you know, the U.S. lost today to Ghana in the knockout round of 16 in the World Cup. It was disappointing, but it’s not like the U.S. deserved to win, considering they still hadn’t learned that play starts with the first whistle. For the second time in four games, they allowed a goal in the first five minutes.

I’m going to try to be as serious as possible in this post. On Twitter today, I posted a bunch of joking, but derogatory things about soccer; I don’t feel they were unfounded, though. I think flopping (@QVT replied to me that it’s not called flopping — I would like him to comment on here and tell me what it’s called) is a major issue that causes many Americans to dismiss the sport. You’d need a 2160p television set to see some of the “contact” on which fouls are inevitably called due to a guy jumping through the air and holding his leg. And some Americans were all too content to join in, as pointed out in this blog post.

And the Ghanaians display at the end of the match today was arguably the worst thing that could have happened, American-interest-wise. After all the goodwill and excitement conjured up by Donovan’s goal, Africa had to ruin things once again. First the vuvuzelas, then stalling the game by lying on the fucking ground after absolutely nothing happened to you. I’m trying to think of a comparable tactic in another sport. I guess a pitching coach or catcher coming out to the mound to give a pitcher more time to warm up in the bullpen? But that doesn’t necessitate deceit. And maybe this is what @QVT was referring to when he meant it wasn’t flopping — it’s stalling. But it’s stalling by faking an injury (actually, it didn’t even look like the guy was trying to fake it — he was literally just LYING THERE). Whatever it is, it’s bullshit.

I also saw some people complaining about the offside rule on Twitter, but I have to imagine they’re mostly casual — if not totally bandwagon — fans (like myself).  I really would like a true soccer fan’s opinion on this. Yeah, I played soccer up until junior varsity in high school, but by that point I had already lost a step or three due to not playing in 9th grade and I barely remember it anyway. Either way, I can’t say I ever held a strong opinion the offside rule. I know it would create more scoring, right? I can’t see how that’s a bad thing. People who rip on baseball seem to think it would improve with more scoring. But similar to why I don’t like aluminum bats (other than the sound), maybe hardcore soccer fans like their goals scarce. But I’m not quite sure why I even bring up the offside rule, because like I said, I don’t have any strong feelings about it — the only time I did was when the U.S. lost a goal to it when they weren’t actually offside.

But I’m not getting at the heart of why many Americans find soccer boring to watch, especially when others are actively betting on เว็บแทงบอลออนไลน์. And I guess I’m going to project my own feelings onto the American public, but it’s because for much of the game there is absolutely NO chance of someone scoring in the immediate future, or at least that’s how it seems to the untrained eye. There is mostly passing in the middle and positioning, which doesn’t create much tension. In football, there could be a massive touchdown pass at any time. In baseball, every pitch can turn into a home run. In hockey — well, hockey is just a shrunken-down, sped-up version of soccer on ice, isn’t it? Only instead of flopping, there’s fighting. Basketball almost has the opposite problem of soccer in my mind, in the sense that there’s just so much scoring back and forth that it becomes mundane. Don’t ask me to explain NASCAR’s popularity.

But I have to admit Landon Donovan’s goal was fucking amazing. Even I was caught up in the sport at that moment. Perhaps that’s what watching soccer is all about? It’s waiting for that orgasmic moment that comes along once or twice a game if you’re lucky. It’s forgetting all the awful officiating and flopping to savor the ball getting buried in the back of the net. Sure, there are swathes of yawn-inducing play, but do those all-too-rare fantastic goals make up for that fact? I don’t know, but I’m still leaning towards no.

My question to myself right now is how I can continue watching this World Cup. I know England-Germany is a massive match, but who am I supposed to root for? It’s hard enough for me to keep my attention focused on the television during a U.S. match I have a rooting interest in, so how can I expect that match to grab me? Am I just supposed to pretend it’s 70 years ago and root against the Nazis?

And I need to go to sleep now. I doubt I’ll even wake up for the match now, anyhow.

Edit: How the fuck did I not comment on the awful officiating and how FIFA is totally averse to the use of any technology? I guess I mentioned how the U.S. got fucked out of a goal — well Mexico just got fucked. England got fucked earlier. There have been a dozen other awful calls too. Yet there is no goal line sensor or replay. Fucking joke.

Copenhgen=arrogance of man2think we can change nature’s ways.MUST b good stewards of God’s earth,but arrogant&naive2say man overpwers nature

Earth saw clmate chnge4 ions;will cont 2 c chnges.R duty2responsbly devlop resorces4humankind/not pollute&destroy;but cant alter naturl chng

IONS

I can’t even bring myself to rip this apart as much as it’s needed. But really, IONS. Holy fucking shit, how was this woman a governor, nevermind a vice presidential candidate. Really, I’m willing to overlook all the retarded text-speak, since it’s on Twitter and I guess she wanted to get her moronic thoughts in 140 character bursts, but IONS.

It’s arrogant to think we can change nature’s ways, huh? Hmm, like cutting down rainforests or killing off entire species of animals? Shit, agriculture could be seen as man overpowering nature and we came up with that 10,000 years ago.

Battery…dying. Guy in the back likes some show called Peepshow. He sounds like a dick. #livetweetingAVclub

I was the “guy in the back.” Awesome. And yes, this was a week ago — and yes, I realize I haven’t written a blog post for about three weeks. Although I didn’t realize that latter fact until today. I don’t even know what I’ve been doing. Lying in bed in the dark with the blinds drawn thinking about past and future mistakes? Nope, not at all.

Anyhow, back to being called a dick. #livetweetingAVclub would be a Twitter reference to this A.V. Club event in Brooklyn, which I attended for the hell of it — because what else was I going to do on a Monday night? The event started at 8, and I got to the hipster bar at about 7:30, looked around for a bit, didn’t notice anything signifying an A.V. Club book reading, so I sat at the bar and ordered a beer I had never heard of. When I say hipster bar, I mean people were sitting around reading, and there were bocce ball courts. Indoors. But maybe that’s not even hipster; maybe Union Hall used to be a Italian retirement home.

So I start talking to a girl who’s also there for the A.V. Club thing, and after 10 minutes or so, she says she’s going downstairs. Ohhhhh, so THAT’S where everything is going down. I didn’t even realize there was a downstairs. This obliviousness led to my vision of the tiny stage and projector, when I finally made my way down there just before 8 PM, being almost totally blocked. One of the few times I wish I were taller than 5’7″, in addition to almost every other waking moment.

This backstory is important (not really) because about an hour in, I just gave up on twisting my neck and standing on my toes to see what was going on, and decided to make my way to the back to get another drink. Turns out there was even a stool to sit on. Fuck standing and being dry, it’s about sitting and getting drunk. At some point during my imbibing of Blue Point Toasted Lager, the A.V. Club fellas mentioned that there would be a Q&A sesh after their formal presentation. It was then that I decided I would ask about the total absence of Peep Show from their TV of the Decade coverage. I could excuse most entertainment outlets for not mentioning an absolutely hilarious British sitcom that has only had its first season aired on BBC America years ago, but not the A.V. Club.

The problem was that, as a result of being ALL the way in the back, I would have to yell at the top of my lungs to be heard. I feel like it’s hard not to sound like a dick when you’re yelling your lungs out and no one can even see you. Perhaps yelling, “Everyone should watch it!” — after the ONE PERSON among the A.V. Club personalities who had seen it finished her thoughts — didn’t help. So it was at this point at which that tweet must have been…tweeted.

I then proceeded to drink more and then go up to the A.V. Club writers and subsequently implored them all to watch Peep Show. Except for the one cool chick who had already seen it and loved it — and also wrote this article almost a year ago! If her co-workers didn’t listen to her, why would they listen to me? I was just a drunken lunatic raving about some British sitcom. But if the A.V. Club starts reviewing old Peep Show episodes — or at the least the 1st series DVD — I will take credit.

Oh, and I was also photographed for The Onion at some point during the night. So, out of the people who read this who know my ugly mug, keep a lookout for me in an embarrassing photoshop of some kind, most likely with an equally embarrassing caption or quote accompanying it.

Now watch the second episode of Peep Show on Hulu:

(I should get paid for this type of pimpage.)

Fuck MySpace. I’m back on Facebook for the fifth time. I fill my Twitter profile with inane quips, observations, and rants. I post awesome stuff in my Pownce profile. My Muse obsession is well-documented on my Last.fm profile. I’ve had a Digg profile for a while, and I’m starting to utilize that again. I’ve uploaded three badass concerts on Stage6 (but one has since been taken down — actually, the whole site has been taken down for a while due to some hackers). I even got an invite to Hulu, a totally legal TV show streaming site that is still in beta form. Once I FINALLY setup my own webspace, I’ll be sure to embed some of my favorite shows and clips.

I’m also on two forums, and would be on three if a certain online buddy weren’t a fellow poor college student. Instead of buying me the Something Awful subscription he promised, he spends money on food — what a friend he is. And of course, there’s this little piece of internet, along with the one I carved out a few years ago. Google CajoleJuice. Go ahead. Do it. My blog being the first Google result parallels a similar fact that almost led to possible disaster a few years ago. This time around, I’m a little more amused and content. While you’re at it, Google Anti-Christ Tom Brady. The power of Digg. Although, it didn’t seem to work for the follow-up post this year. All I have left is to buy a webcam so I create a channel on Yahoo! Live and stream myself over the web. Oh wait, I’m not an attention-whoring teenage girl.

I don’t even quite know what I hoped to achieve with this post, but I hate wasting possible posts that I already wrote up. I truly believe everyone should sign up on Pownce as soon as possible, solely due to the file sharing capabilities. You can’t see it, but I uploaded a bunch of music. At the time, I didn’t realize just how worthless an effort that was. I knew you needed to be friends on Pownce to be able to see each other’s files, but I didn’t know you needed to be friends BEFORE the file was uploaded. So yeah, that was a waste. And now that my goddamn Photobucket account has exceeded its bandwidth and the site TrialPay is currently fisting my asshole while I wait for them to upgrade me to Pro, pretty much the only thing on my public profile is this:

Don’t let that give you a bad impression of Pownce. It’s like Twitter on steroids, even though there’s a good chance no one reading this knows what Twitter is. Let’s just say that Pownce is much more useful, and less annoying, than Facebook. It rocks. It’s almost like a mini-blogger. So sign up and friend me, so we can start posting music for each other. Or humorous links for each other. All that crap.

I must embarrassing admit that I found a couple of these sites through the e-stalking of Veronica Belmont. I saw how many sites she was on, and consequently had to join them and friend her. But the awesome side-effect was finding a great site like Pownce. Twitter is fairly dumb fun as well. As for Hulu, I knew about it for a while, but you need an invite to register. The person that first informed me of it sent me an invite last night. If you want an invite, just let me know. I only have 10, so first-come, first-served (as if 10 people will even read this). I’ll be pimping it in the weeks to come, as it inevitably creeps closer to public launch. Hmm, I wonder if Veronica needs an invite…

I doubt it.