Ceremonial First Post

Because we are not yet famous and because, in fact, no one besides our respective ladyfriends knows that this website exists at all, it has been very difficult to find any sort of Important Personage to throw out the first post.

We asked Bill James, but he was busy. We asked Bernie Mac, but he is dead. Assorted local councilmen and -women were slow to return our phone calls—by which I mean, they never returned our phone calls. We asked a small child who sort of looked like Haley Joel Osment, but his mom called him in for supper…while simultaneously calling the police.

So, instead of following what “society” says to do, we’ve opted to take on the responsibility ourselves. There’s very little pomp and even less circumstance. No one is playing any sort of cheerful melody with the word “fanfare” in it on any sort of brass, or other wind, instrument. If you listen closely, you might hear some crickets chirping. Unfortunately, those crickets aren’t in our post; they’re in your house and you live in the country.

Still, in the words of someone (Emily Post, I think it was): “It’s better to have started a party quickly, than to have never started a party at all.”

This is that party, people. Try the deviled eggs, they’re delicious; drink this wine, it’s sulfite-free. We have some Tombstone-brand pizzas, if you’re still hungry. I can make a quick run to the cornerstore for anything else.

Let’s not talk too much about what we’ll be discussing going forward. Just trust us that it’ll be celebratory and, occasionally, thoughtful. Words like “leisure” and “transcendence” will abound. We’ll use more than one definition of “bunting.” (This one and this one and definitely this one.)

For Ross McSweeney, I am Carson Cistulli. Welcome to a new (the first!) season of The New Enthusiast, electronic edition. We hope it pleases you.

(Ross, if you have any additional words, by all means…)