Matthew Rose has seen fit to write an article containing certain similarities to my own experiences with Facebook and, in fact, using the same Jonathan Franzen angle that I used here on September 26, 2007.

My lede: “Jonathan Franzen does not want to be my friend.”

Rose’s lede: “Is Jonathan Franzen my friend?”

Could such a similarity have been avoided? Well, enter the search terms “Jonathan Franzen Facebook” into Google and you shall see what comes up first.

Of course, Matthew Rose will deny it. But my post was the subject of some discussion — both in the blogosphere and on Facebook. I was the first to publicly out Franzen’s existence on Facebook. A friend of mine insisted that I write a feature article about the experience, but I told her that I honestly didn’t see any reason why any serious newspaper would be interested in my technological navel-gazing.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Open note to the Wall Street Journal: I happen to be a writer myself. And unlike Mr. Rose, I can actually generate original ideas.

All the lower was full of cans and mays, corpulent, the deep damp latter rising from warm and pleasant memory and scratched out, extirpated, replaced by former, because it was former, the word itself representing dregs of dame abandoned. Requited love, alleged and recalled, contained in one word caused fury and savage strokes with present partner participating leading the frayed abandoned strands. Replacement seemed inevitable given the bulging veins on her neck, domestic bliss man rayed, can I go lacking a certain verve in this post-may american expattycake bakers man ray again this time of sunshine, we cant repeat the past. Santa reminds us every december of this doomed repeat repeat doomed repeat. Doomed repeat.

So who was she this may and why cant we move on? Just a word, change two letters and an all together different autobio forms the cycle spinning near the open door, billowing gusts of precognition decades before others took it up. May I can I may I can I swapping adulterous pairs in a plangent recall of detestable love given up for plain jane to class declasse must not name, for it would be like may, now all fit for janet’s consumption speculation. Interesting yes but what tells us that isn’t here near? What does it tell us by way of outside of us as may was one month after elliott’s pronouncement assuming you see connection?

Living longer decades longer she remembered did not know why not use may as much as she did, because lacked, hinging upon either-or instead of can’s active will. May I can I stop settle this like grown adults. Nib ripping paper, fortunately no inkwell. Papers deposited in snug archives, leaving only rapt academics to baste spells and ramp up ample speculations.

Gertrude what did you think of all this? We’ll never know and do we have the right to pry?

Edgar Wright: “I can confirm too, that Simon was never contacted either. I don’t really want to get involved at all, but it infuriates me that they would a) never bother to get in touch but still b) splash me and Simon’s names all over the trade announcements and infer that we’re involved in the same way Ricky & Steve were with The Office.”

Even worse, McG is involved in this remake. Which is entirely unnecessary.

From Publishers Lunch:

Nelson Algren Literary Award winner and author of HAIRSTYLES OF THE DAMNED Joe Meno’s THE GREAT PERHAPS, the story of an eccentric family in the weeks leading up to the 2004 presidential election: two bumbling professors, two strange daughters, and a grandfather limiting himself to thirteen words a day, then twelve, then eleven — one less each day until he will speak no more, to Tom Mayer at Norton, by Maria Massie at Lippincott Massie McQuilkin (NA).