Being on Time

It finally happened.

On a rather typical Thursday evening, unobstructed by any usual cares, this introduction—long overdue, subject to overzealous procrastination, and deemed unintelligible before anyone dare attempt to write it—suddenly began. Lux fiated with great facility, but this poor fallen project has been beleaguered with many a bludgeoning of boredom and bettering. Until now the author (or authors) has/have skilfully avoided the use of a pronoun that might evince a form of identification. Unlike a birth certificate, however, there exists no paper documentation that such a man, woman, or people could submit to, say, legitimise the manifestation of any person or persons involved in this endeavour in the eyes of the Canadian government (especially at the Windsor crossing, but that is neither here nor there).  Although kindred simple spirits might remind us that we/you/I “need it for identification.”

Despite all advanced efforts, however, it will eventually form a matter of necessity that those behind this initiative must give some inclining as to how you should think of them. So far, this piece has emerged devoid of any authorial identification, but addressing you as a single or corporate entity appears momentarily permissible. Following from that forgivable if foreign form of forging a foundation off of which to flow fluidesque into forays and frays of forgotten friends and foes and families, the person or persons behind this effort would like to humbly hint that much of this and any following address fits in a relational context. You, person or persons reading this piece, have something to teach me and/or us. Most elements of electronic editorialisations evangelising and envisioning an e-amphitheatre filled to capacity with e-devotees (by another name “the Blogosphere”) approach their dialogue with the external world with a particular purpose, politics, and pompous preference for their own points which they make to you. My and our and no one's business on this blissfully blistering and amazingly dazed gaze before the abyss means to concern itself with what you review outside your window or over the pixelated transmissions of the television or personal computer.

So then, you might ask, what is this all about anyway? For starters, you have already been given a rather weighty clue: the question with respect to the essence and purpose of this electronic establishment necessarily required the use of the word “is.” To ask, “what is this all about anyway?” requires one to employ the verb “to be.” The author(s) of this piece have hitherto avoided the use of this beautiful verb, at once so simple and yet so complex, for the simple reason that any statement of purpose begins with defining a context, and within that context, a relationship. (Even your parents “defined their relationship” within their unique “context” before they bequeathed to you a biological birth of “being”). You are the reader, and I and we and none of me or us “constitute” the writers. Here we necessarily admit our plural nature, but to Hamlet's mirrored inquiry of “to be, or not to be?” we must resoundingly respond in affirming the latter.

Peace and All Good,

The Crew