This is the way the section on "the Judeo-Christian tradition of marriage" used to open. Forgive me for the incompleteness of the list. I changed my mind about opening this way before I filled in the rest of the items.
I spend a lot of time on Google.
Of the time I spend on Google, I’d say probably a third of it I spend Googling myself, to see whether anybody new loves me that day, which creates the possibility of filling at last the deep maw of need and insecurity that is at the core of my being. I have been Googling myself since the appearance of Google in the national consciousness in the late 90s and this has yet to happen—though one e-acquaintance’s assertion on his blog that he wanted to fly across the country to fuck my brains out came close (after all, he said it to everybody!)—but I understand that if the coin has been landing on heads for fifteen years that doesn’t mean it’s not going to land on tails next time, so I hold out hope.
Another third of my Google time I spend looking up other people’s references so that I can either pretend I knew exactly what they were talking about all along, or, even better, correct their errors. “Actually,” I might say in an online chat, “the nectarine isn't the result of a plum and a peach bred together; it’s a peach in which the gene for fuzzy skin is recessive.” I have become very, very fast at Googling, so I believe that at least some of the time the ruse succeeds, and people think I’m even more obnoxious than they already did. If you have information to the contrary, please keep it to yourself.
The rest of my time on Google is devoted to a variety of pursuits—searching (thus far in vain) for a place that sells the watch with Hebrew letters instead of numbers that goes counterclockwise just like the clock on the tower of blah blah in Prague, where I bought such a watch some years ago only to lose it immediately upon my return to the United States, looking up boys I was in love with in high school in the hope that they’ll be either pudgy real estate agents or gay, and, of course, doing research.
That’s one of the great things about being a writer: when you fuck around online you can count it as working, at least until your anxiety disorder gets the better of you and makes you stop fucking around and realize that you have nothing to say and you go across the street to the bodega, buy a candy bar, come back, eat the candy bar, and take a nap. Here are some of the things I’ve Googled in recent months:
add something
add something
add something
add something
add something
Judeo-Christian marriage
Cthulhu dildo
The most edifying search proved to be not, unfortunately, “Cthulhu dildo” (though that effort did lead me not only to the bagatelle in question but also to an extraordinary comic book called The Pornomicon that I have yet to read all the way through, under the assumption that doing so will drive me mad) but “Judeo-Christian marriage,” because it was the first step in unraveling a mystery I hadn’t even known was maddening me.
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