obsequiousesquipedalian, I

I love Luke Baumgarten.

Hey, don't get me wrong here. Follow this. I've never met Luke. But through some sort of "if-he-is-ok-with-you-he-is-ok-with-me" fallacious supposition I've been welcomed into the Lukosphere. He knows my cousin Mike, who himself doesn't really know me. Yet. In person, at least.

We're all just blogoltergeists. Lurkensteins.

Now, as much as this Luke person likes to claim inferiority, evidence of his intellect bursts forth from his rantings every, well, day, basically. (and I am the Comma King).

Luke writes the way someone who would otherwise enthusiastically KILL intruders might write. With passion. With a point. Informed, even. From deep inside "there". He always seems to really be on to something. He is probably as screwed up as the rest of us but nevertheless he spins his neuroses into gold.

Rumpelstiltsgarten!

He makes the most of his vast expanse of hard earned full-time unemployment, and logically and lucidly lays out his case, be it mundane, or better, self-absorbed and mundane!

But Don, whither goest you with this?
(What the hell are you talking about?)

Alright, here's the point. As self-centered as the decidedly complex musings of someone so thoughtful might seem, Luke welcomes comments. He wants them, he needs them. He really thinks about them. This is a real human, you see. We all post stuff hoping someone will read it. But Luke goes just that one step farther.

It's a Platogosphere. His chants and our comments are a catechism of sorts, and nobody, least of all Luke, claims to be sitting in the center. If you don't get what I'm saying just go away.

Or,,,, comment!