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Just in time for Valentine's Day,
the Guardian in London has
reviewed and raved about
The Secret Language of Sleep.
And, for the rest of the week,
you can buy it for $5!
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[Send your open letters to websubmissions@mcsweeneys.net.] - - - - A N O P E N L E T T E R July 28, 2003 Dearest Google, You have done so much for me. I wish I could repay you. I have sought to learn much in the past while, and you have made my endeavors all the more enjoyable. Who else could I have turned to when I wanted to find Nick Hornby's recent article on graphic novels from The New York Times? Who else could answer my many questions about French bread recipes? Who but you could lead me to such titillating images of Ruth Bader Ginsburg topless? No one but you could do this Google. No one. I ask you, Google, is there anything you cannot do? You have sorted through billions of web pages to bring me the information I desire. I type my name into your dialogue box, and instantly I discover a part of myself that I did not even know. How do you wield such magic, Google? How? I must ask you again, Google, is there anything you cannot do? There is. You cannot love. But still. I love you. Though I may not always show it, you must know it to be true. How can I show you my love? How? I'm sorry that I didn't download the Google toolbar. My browser's toolbar is already too full. Please understand. You're on my Favorites List. Is that not enough? You've always been good to me Google. You showed me the folly of my compulsive gambling with your "I'm Feeling Lucky" button. I first learned of Liv Tyler's engagement from Google News. Where could I find a Philosophy of Humor message board other than from Google Groups? Nowhere. Goodbye Norton toolbar. Goodbye standard buttons. The Google toolbar is all that I need. I hope this will please you, Google. Truly, I do. Sometimes in class, my mind wanders. I endlessly doodle your name in my notebook: "10 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000." Over and over. Google. "10100." Google. On those lonely nights before I had a spell checker on my computer, you were my spell checker. I'd enter the words, and if they were wrong, you would politely correct me. Yours for ever more, Nav Purewal
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