I feel a little like Danny Glover in all of those Lethal Weapons films: “I’m too old for this shit.” I won’t bore you with the usual rant of a 40-something about all of this new-fangled social media. But rather than rail against the technological change, I have decided instead to embrace it and make it my own. I want to use it to discuss what I care about, which may seem quaint in the age of FB and Twitter and Tumblr and yes blogs: great writing. Maybe that will be a film or a play, a television show or a film. Maybe it will be high brow or low brow. One day I might engage in the more ethereal of critical theory, and the next I might dive into the visceral emotions of a piece. I hope to always be honest. I hope to have a high intellectual standard, but not pretentious. Smart doesn’t have to be dull. I hope to provoke conversation — even disagreement, as long as it is polite and respectful. I hope to inspire, even in a small way. I have my personal loves, as the title of this site indicates. There’ll be more Kerouac and Joyce than Austen and Hardy. So welcome. As a parting thought, I recently rediscovered this little gem by Whitman: “Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.” Good night.