Verily, this afternoon, on assignment from my friend, the head of our computer center, a major guru is coming to my house to try, once more, to teach me the wonders of the Web. I have been through it twice now, have practiced on my own. I have sat with two beautiful women who attempted to take me by the hand and lead me through the arcane filaments, and while the former was a joy, the latter was a horror. I met empty construction sights, cosmic disorder, bad planning, an occasional topic of interest which seemed to dematerialize before me in midair. I found myself, I think, in the world of unrestrained ego.
Home pages are like pre-morbid headstones.
They are outlets for displaying to the world the person who would like to be seen as. The preceding solecism expresses the thought. You can put what you like on your home page, but that, unlike the better mousetrap, does not guarantee anyone will beat a path to your door. The joy is in doing it. Like so much of the internet, the Web is an outlet for ego.