My final comment for 2007 is that bioblogs make sense simply for no other reason than good packaging, an art that has been lost in tradtional resumes. When I first got into the resume designing and writing and editing and printing business back in the 70s, it was still a form of "packaging," mostly for VIPs and certainly management-level types. The choice of the typewriter was important (there were all IBM Executive typewriters with proportional spacing), and the paper was as well (parchment being the "bond-like" favorite). Cover letters, hand-signed in blue ink, were the outer layer of the packaging, introducing the "product" (the resume); a proper strategy called for matching envelopes and letterhead. The point was to impress first of all the decision maker's secretary so she would take the package seriously enough to forward it to her boss (rather than the trash can where the sloppy stuff went), and then to be sufficiently packaged—sophisticated, convincing, attractive, important—that the boss would want to know more. To achieve this you had to spend, to package with proof of your sincerity, implying your willingness to invest in reaching out to them and that a mutual reaching back to you would be a sensible financial transaction. It was, is, and will always be about money; thus, packaging. Whether you are selling perfume or your potential, you want to upscale your brand to make it look and smell like money, the opposite end of the spectrum from the job-obits known as chronological and functional resumes.
Packaging, with graphics, is the way to set yourself above the generic brands.
