So there is no possible way I could have predicted that when I wrote: “A node. Nothing more” slightly over a year ago that I would one day feel obliged to comment further on the figure/phenomenon that can only come under the heading “Otis Nixon” (see “Repackaging the Archive, Part I”). Since that time his name has never been terribly far from my digital reality. Without fail, no matter the day or time of year, if I deign to check my “blog stats,” a search for his name has inevitably turned up this here blog in some distant galaxy far to the right of the many google “Os”; furthermore, wordpress does its due diligence to let me know that someone has searched for Otis Nixon and that it very well may have led them here. Nothing, and I mean nothing and no one has caused as many “hits” on this site as has Otis Nixon. In fact, there may be a good chance that you yourself are reading this post b/c you’ve entered “otis nixon” into your google search bar and, after scrolling through umpteen-pp., have finally arrived here, and for that I thank you, for you prove my point. This is not about Otis Nixon the baseball player, the very good lead-off hitter, his fantastic catch robbing Van Slyke of a homerun, his cocaine/crack addiction, nor the way he turned his life around toward god, started a ministry, and is doing, well. . . you can see for yourself. No this is about “Otis Nixon” the baseball card. Otis Nixon the archival phenomenon. The networked-Being of the emergent singularity that, for lack of a better term, we will call: Otis Nixon. (Otis Nixon, “otis nixon,” “otis” “nixon.”)
To be clear, I suppose the fact of Otis Nixon’s near archival ubiquity here, his ability to form a significant node linking so many disparate things together (for everything here is always already under the sway of Otis Nixon first and foremost), is ultimately a result of the sports figure who also goes by the name Otis Nixon—that, no matter how popular post-apocalyptic stuff may be nor how in demand ridiculous archival theory, sport, in terms of archivization, perhaps lends itself more easily to producing such networked-Beings (think Vince Carter). That said, however, it is significant that it is “Otis Nixon” that I am designating as the proper name of this networked-Being. It isn’t Michael Jordan, Peyton Manning, Tiger Woods, or Venus Williams. No, it is Otis Nixon who most clearly articulates an existence that is wholly and exclusively archival. This is not the Otis Nixon whose book is Keeping it Real. This is the Otis Nixon who needs no book, for it is always already Keeping it Hyperreal. This is an Otis Nixon who has, for a great many years now, been the most visible emergence of the archive organizing itself into higher orders. “He” is a singularity. And Otis Nixon is becoming ubiquitous. Furthermore, there is no reason this phenomenon need be Otis Nixon, but that is the point of archival organization: it is dependent upon both chaos and order working profoundly together to create, well, Otis Nixon. If a post-singularity is even remotely on the horizon, it will be called Otis Nixon. And for those of you searching for that “other” Otis Nixon, well here you go.
 Btw, I’m going to be using his proper name about as much as I can to foster this phenomenon. For those of you who may be interested, you can visit his website. His book, significantly for my purposes, is called Keeping it Real. It is seemingly only available through his website (though understandably, I only checked amazon).
 It should be obvious what my goal is here.
 I also know that in even writing these things down I may be digging myself into a further hole. . . .