A new blog is like a pebble in a pond: pointless.

What matters is the waves, how many surfers you knock over, and how many people know it was your fault.

This google-sponsored screen marks the beginning of my presence on the internet. Technically, "internet" is supposed to be capitalised. I refuse. It isn't a place. It's a thing: a tool for our use, like a hammer, a pot of tincture, or more commonly, a sex toy. I'm making this blog for a purpose. I hope you read it for one. If no one ever visits, I'll be crestfallen, and that assuredly makes me sound insane.

I'm not insane. I'm just an artist. The highest purpose of art is to evoke. As such, to me, the only purpose of writing is to give the reader an experience. All craft exists for the reader. I hope I cause you to change the world one day, but I won't do it by being pretentious. I'll just write stories and hope to light your heart on fire... metaphorically.

All my life I've tried to set myself on fire, also metaphorically. Now that things are happening for me, now that I exist in the marketing sense of the word, I thought it only right that I create a page where I can share. This blog will be about writing, about dreams, books and popular culture. I'll share how I got this far, and I'll continue to share as I get much farther. There will be Sociology, Anthropology, Psychology and all the other things that make me want to write. If I ever get members, I hope there will be all sorts of the things that make you want to write.

For now, it suffices that the Wicker Man is here. He's tiny and wet, and I don't think most people even know where Wounded Knee is, but I'll grow, and I'll burn, and you'll see.

Wm. Luke Everest