MySpace Archive: The End of an Era

For the first time in the history of The MySpace Archive, I am not going to begin with the boilerplate intro. This is not just because this is the last one of these I'll ever do, but also because I just don't feel like looking up an entry to copy-paste it.

Besides, now that I have pictures of New Romantics, I've got sevens of readers from Developing Nations,¹ so I need not explain myself anymore.

So this was my response to learning that roughly 50% of my DNA found my MySpace blog while apparently engaging in self-research. There were footnotes in the original,² so I have italicized all of my Special Edition Commentary...and hey, for a lark, I will put them in Arial, that most delicate of fonts.

[Originally posted on Tuesday, January 22, 2008]

So, I have a new reader...

Sorry. No 80s update. Not yet.³

I just had to welcome my blog's newest reader:

Hi, Dad!

Apparently, someone was searching for himself on Google, and my MySpace page was the number three best match. No worries, Dad. We all do that. Some redheaded geek at Purdue⁴ is all over my name's searches, so I feel your pain.

You should have done an image search for your name, man. They're a lot more fun. This guy pops up loud and clear:

Figure 1: David Wolter

I had that hairstyle in 1994, so I can only assume this is a picture of a German guy from 2007. Eep.

Anywhoo, Dad, I suspect you're worried since my last blog mentioned I might write about "my shitty childhood."⁵ Or at the very least Al Davis's ragtag team of roided up cheat-monkeys. Maybe there's some apprehension that I might air out some long-buried grievances or blurt out something unseemly.

Nothing could be further from my goal. Which is, of course, to spew out some random gibberish about some 80s movie in a pseudointellectual manner, toss in some photos and footnotes,⁶ leave in a few typoes so my "friends"⁷ can "gently" correct⁹ me, and then make some tenuous claim about how it influenced my psyche. Which is what 90% of the blogosphere¹⁰ is about.

Anyway, I save all of my genuine trauma and pain for where it belongs: the bar.

So rest assured, this is just simple, good natured idiocy. The kind you've come to accept from Number 1 Son. No malice will you encounter here.

Up next: the thrilling conclusion to The Dark Underbelly of the 80s - The Goonies, or How My Dad Totally Ruined My Life.

There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Admittedly it wasn't so good either.

At any rate, I have heard nothing else from my Dad about either the blog or The Slog. If you're reading this, Dad: I love you. I swear those Christmas gifts are coming soon. At least, as soon as I can finish that damn Goonies post.

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1. Canada counts as a "Developing Nation," right?
2. Big surpise, huh?
3. Possibly not ever. We'll see, Data fans. We'll see...
4. If you are that geek, and stumbled on this site while googling yourself, well...sorry. There can be only one.
5. Well, my last "MySpace Archive." Obviously my last blog was more concerned with making a lame "Ruptured Chiklis" joke.
6. Like this.
7. By friends, I mean whatever random porn spammers have stumbled upon this page.⁸
8. That really only applies to MySpace. Here, I get people from the Hinterlands searching for "slog in rabbit urine," "Armenian Genocide," and the ever popular "midge ure breathe blogspot."
9. Blog pedantism is one of the few growth industries under the Bush adminstration
10. Don't worry, Dad, it's a made up word. Just roll with it. I did.¹¹
11. Says the guy who used the term "slogosphere" yesterday. God, I'm an ass.