I find myself thinking about this one New Yorker comic a lot recently. Two people are walking down the street, with one of them shivering and saying "I feel like I've just been Googled." Well, in the interests of narcissism, I tried Googling us.
Obviously, there's us. Then there's Warren. Then there's a Chinese girl called Marylu whose page is down, but you can find it cached. Her cached page is apparently the closest description of our site from the search results. "Three collaborators blogging about love, democracy, and Chinese labor." (By the way, Marylu, if you're around, it should be four collaborators - and thanks for your interest in the blog).
Edit: re: Duvall's comment, I will modify my meaning on this last line:
In general, it was a little weird googling the blog itself. I mean, I've certainly googled my own name, but there was something surreal about seeing our names in the virtual lights. Or really, not seeing it up there.
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It should be four, but thinking three is hardly Marylu's fault. The weird coming after it makes the comment a little more snarkish than necessarily intended, when i think you find the whole exercise of googling self weird, yes?
I don't know if we've blogged about love though.
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