Many things have changed since then. There are the obvious shifts in the political and social landscape. There’s my move to New York, and, with it, the shift from Green Line to Q Train as my preferred mode of transportation.

Now, I humbly submit another change to that list: I have a new website. My old one, at home.uchicago.edu, is leaving the figurative dormitory in which it has lived for the last four years, and is standing on its own feet with its own address, www.jebruner.com.

I noticed a few things as I began to reëvaluate my website to prepare for its move. First of all, it was no longer at the top of the Google hit list for “Jon Bruner,” having been replaced in that spot by a website belonging to a North Carolina real estate agent named Jon Bruner. He promotes himself with this slogan: “Every community has at least one realtor like Jon Bruner. In ours……..it’s Jon Bruner!” This is embarrassing.

Then there was the fact that, since I last paid attention in aught four, my fake abstract on Queen had become something of an Internet micro-phenomenon, with as many as thirty people a day following links from obscure newsgroup posts (and, in one case, an alternative weekly in Mississippi) to read it. Most of the visits to my site were coming in via Google searches for “fat bottom girls,” “rockin’ world,” “fat bottoms,” and the like. Obviously, the abstract, and its frighteningly well-reasoned rebuttal, will remain on this site, as will other favorites from Dodd-Mead like The Thelmiad.

As for new content, I’ve decided to turn towards a particularly vexing phenomenon that I observe every time that I’m in Midtown: tourists, many of whom have spent thousands of dollars to travel to and stay in New York, flock to the Olive Garden on Times Square and The Gap on Fifth Avenue. I’ll be producing a short guide, to appear here soon, that will help tourists keep their attention on things that they can’t do in a mall in Des Moines.

In the meantime, take a look at the old favorites (only a few old favorites are here for now, but more will come) and help me beat out that North Carolina realtor by linking to my page and by searching for “Jon Bruner” and clicking on this website in the results. And tell people about this website; there’s a whole bright world of obscure newsgroups to conquer.

This was the way that fated evening began, which did end
with such invective as the Dodd-Meaders had never before known:
It was through the back of strong-benched Burton-Judson
that the group went towards the bus. In that group were
Luis the Barbarian, Brett of the Soft Gums, Mark of the Happy Juice,
Kateri who does stuff, Kalad the A-rab, Brian of the Earmuffs,
Ricardo of Effeminate Nature, Rick of Intense Shit,
Achilles who Kicks Ass, Jason who Got Caught,
and Joe of Big Chunks of Meat, all strong-suited
to go down to Greektown, Place of the Greeks.
And leader of the group was Thelma of Level Head.

So after the savvy band went through the forbidden back doors
of their strong-hewn dorm, they walked swiftly upon their feet
down to 61 st Street, where a CTA bus did soon arrive. And boarding
the bus, the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did take it to the El,
which brought them presently to Greek Town, place of the Greeks.
And walking down the well-poured concrete of the well-laid sidewalk,
those intrepid maroons did see men of dubious nature arriving in
limousines that would suit such kings as are unknown to men.

And upon arriving at the Parthenon, those brave people did have to
wait for times such as do fit on a timeline used in geology.
And the bar where the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did have to wait
was crowded like the CTA 55 bus when it leaves the sturdy Garfield Station
which is where the red line trains stop. And after a time so long that
three meals at the Dodd-Mead round table could have ended,
level-headed Thelma did cause a scene
and the maitre-d’ did show the intrepid group to the table.

The meal did consist of much flaming cheese, as well as other
very hot dishes. The meal was as large as yo’ mom.
That was the size of the meal that the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders did eat.

But it was on the way back to well-stonèd Burton-Judson that
the intrepid group did encounter much challenge. Waiting ‘neath
that well-laid avenue State Street for that train of red that would
take them back to home in Hyde-Park the flowing-haired Dodd-Meaders
did find a man. That man was hepped up such that Snoop Dogg
would blush. And this man, eying Rick of Intense Shit,
did unleash such string of invective as the world had never known,
and among the words he spouted that evening at the intrepid band
were “shit,” “white,” and “the.” And then Achilles who Kicks Ass
did whale upon the hepped-up invective-hurler. And the man
who was hepped up did respond with words of foul nature.

Now Zeus who sat on the Loop did look upon these things
and did not want harm to come. But Athena who favored Dodd-Mead
did unleash her wisdom upon Zeus and made him to strike down
the hepped-up man. And the man said “shit” and left.

Then did Level-Headed Thelma comfort the deflated Dodd-Meaders
with words of wisdom. Then Zeus did call upon Hermes
who runs the trains to make the much-delayed el train come.
And the train came and the band went home.
Such is the tale of the man who was hepped up on the Red Line.