It's like Eggers dares to write down everything that's going through his mind, the sorts of cycles and patterns of thought that we can recognize as our own but that we would never write down for people to read because we think they wouldn't want to. Well, as it turns out, they do. Even with his special living arrangements, taking care of his--much--younger brother, even with his feeling that they are Special, that they are Owed, we see ourselves in him, as though we are recognizing a generation when what we're finding so familiar is an age, is common to all. As he says, he represents the 47 million, we are the lattice, and A.H.W.O.S.G. is as much an embarassing and necessary and strangely fascinating, accurate, no-masks reflection on the way we are as The Real World is.