So Xanga can live without me. And I without it. (Knowledge of new freedom is refreshing.)
But things weren't always so.
Once upon a time, I couldn't live without Xanga. Nor it without me (and assorted other xangarelics). Yes, the latter claim is as true as the first one. Or as false.
It was grand to be part of the early Xanga experiment. Yes, an experiment it was back in 2000-2002 when it morphed and spammed and adventured its way into the cyber-yearning hearts of us who were so amazed to see and be a part of such a sight (site).
And now? Xanga's a friggin institution of portentous social/financial proportions.. Insurance, insurance and more insurance lawyers law enforcement liaisons babysitting kiddie-bloggers possible takeovers forensic investigations of cybercrime controlled content constant media coverage and posturings for federation into the future Internet Hall of Fame. If you take a moment here early in the morning, you can actually smell the freshly-wafting odor of the institutional-strength cleaner that the contracted cleaning crew uses to scrub the Xanga office toilet bowls squeaky clean. That's a huge step up from that old Xanga office where they had to waddle across the street to the service station, borrow a key, and pee into the scummy stanky commodes that might or might not flush. Hey, institutions have their advantages, too.
However, institutions are never magically adventuresome. Not like Xanga used to be.
No fault of John and the xangagods though. They've done their best to keep it surreal.
I wonder if anyone has named their newborn 'Eprop' yet?
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