Angelheaded hipsters

I have this dream that one day I'll be able to talk to people on the street, that I'll be able to walk down that same street and feel powerful and large, unlike what I've constructed myself to be: a little leaf node on the tree of life, waiting to blow away with the trick wind, or alternately budding in the middle of January because of a few freak days of warmth and dying an irreversible frost-ridden death.

Where was I going with this? I think it had something to do with increasing the readership to this weblog to more that 0 per day. The answer might lie in features (whatever that means). Or maybe polls. Maybe some essays (of the political and shoe-gazer-esque variety) will galvanize someone to respond. Here is a "feature":

Three methods of passing the endless hours on the net: 1) typing abstract concepts into the Google image search (I can't believe I'm whoring out Google, as if they haven't reached complete market saturation). 2) watching the dusk creep across the globe from real-time composite satellite photos (if this were a simpler time, I might have provided links). 3) Hitting the "next blog" button on the upper right of the screen (but please refrain until you finish reading this).

Consider: "if you want religious faith: go for it! If you want to change religious stripes and orientations as if they were very trendy clothes: go for it! If you want to cast your budding faith away: go for it! If you want to return to it in your desperate old age (or: the truly wise years) as one inexorably returns to the secret lover: go for it!"