This blog is about nothing, and that’s the way I want to keep it. Insert Seinfeld bass intro.
Honestly, this blog isn’t about things, it’s intentionally not about things, because things are points in time, vectors that cut off those beautiful unknowns in the distance; they make myopic the masses and make circumstantial the consequential….unless they don’t.
Uhm….that means something. Probably.
What is the point of a blog anyway? I mean, nowadays blogs are about things. You blog about how awesome you are trimming your cat’s ball hair (of if you’re a vet, their balls); you blog about how to maximize your SEO to make those sweet sweet ad-dollahs baby. Cha-fuckin’-ching.
I mean, you know, you blog these days because blogging is now a viable opportunity to make moolahs. Which, in this day and age, is actually a reasonable goal.
And I think to myself: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3yCcXgbKrE
And, for a while, I’ve been in this mindset of “I want to blog because blogging can be profitable if you are good at it” but then it occurred to me: i’m…not, good at it.
I mean, if I really put a good faith effort – if I dotted my Srunk & White T’s and crossed my SEO eyes – if I…I don’t know, listened to Income School and made my content good and saleable, then that premise would be just fine and dandy.
But I can’t, at least not yet, for a few reasons.
Reason 1: I get in my head about it
I find socialism to be dumb as bricks in its most extreme incarnations (fucking honestly), but I also can’t bring myself to write content that I don’t feel strongly about.
I’m probably a fucking hypocrite for saying it, but when I write in a purely commercial context, it is hard to feel like I have soul in the game. If I rationalize it to myself, it’s possible, don’t get me wrong. I been on that grind honey, and it’s 100% possible lemme tell you.
But it also feels…manufactured.
Don’t get me wrong, if you find joy in copy-writing, or technical writing; if finding the quickest route from Consumer A’s wallet to Company B’s bank account gets you going; if the prospect of finding the Mot Juste of advertising is your Joie De Vivre with that vestigial R, and you like that shit, really, honestly, that’s amazing.
I will never fault someone for hustlin’ and likin’ it. And it would be dishonest of me to say “Who, me make money by writing convincing copy? Never. I have SOUL IN THE GAME. MAN”. That’s kinda fucking bullshit. If I could enjoy copy, I would go balls deep into that process. The prospect of putting words to paper and also then converting those words actionably into monies for which I can then purchase goods and services from other Copywriters gets me all tingly inside as a prospect.
I’m not there yet.
I get so in my head about the reality of it; am I excited about writing this thing because the words flowing from my word processor are words that I care about; are these flowing fluid alliterations meant to sell you a product my soul; or am I just a fucking shill pushing a product to convince you you need something more?
I never genuinely know the answer. And I ain’t gonna lie, it’s troubling.
So, I started this free-writing thing so I can…be more comfortable with the prospect of putting words on paper in public.
I think this is like… the
first, second, THIRD time, third, really Eric? Honestly. This is the third time I’ve tried this, and that’s upsetting.
But I need to do this because.
Reason 2: Being naked is awesome
Ahh, I’m gonna need to rephrase that somehow.
How shall I put this? Any written endeavor, or musical endeavor, or artistic endeavor requires that you strip down in front of a lot of people. For better or worse consciously, and with the expectation of being judged for it. People are….less than forgiving of others on the internet.
And over the last year, it is has become increasingly evident that people are looking to pick a fight. I’ve watched as the situation has deteriorated rapidly. People are angry, and they want to hurt.
If there is a group of people I want to drop trough in front of less, it would be y’all. And that’s not just because I’m a fan of being publicly decent.
Y’all – the vast internet wasteland – filled with time cubes and hate mongers and neo-nazis and Anime Fans and Social Justice and stupid critical essays on why the Last Jedi is a dumpster fire and people being systematically abused by poweful systems and capitalists and communists and stupid people who think they are smart and smart people who think they are stupid and people who casually overlook the impact of stalin and mao and people who are cool with the situation in flint and people who like to argue because they like the feeling of being angry and people who are justifiably depressed.
It’s a lot. And it’s scary. And it always feels like i’m going to be stepping on a lot of toes. I don’t want to step on toes. But I’m going to, whether I like it or not. That’s just how existence works.
But man, I don’t like the thought of it.
And that’s kinda messed up because:
I want to be more than invisible
So we come to the squeeze. I’m not afraid to admit I’m egotistical. I think it’s egotistical to think you’re not egotistical, and then do things that support that idea, even though, deep down, you one hundred percent are egotistical (didn’t I just say 100% ffs?) so I’ll be straight: I want to be liked, I want to be loved. And that shouldn’t be a radical fucking statement, but it is. It is because it is Gauche AF to admit that you want things like “being significant” and “being cared for”.
Or maybe I’m just fucked in the head. We may never know.
But in all cases, I see myself as having pussyfooted pretty hard. And this meandering answerless blog with shit content is my answer to it.
Because if I can’t meander meaninglessly across vast tracts of the internet wasteland, anime, art, literature, music, and all the things I love.
Then what is the goddamn point?
I don’t know. But maybe if I write it out, I’ll find out.
And then I can do something meaningful.
It’s snowing on Mt. Fuji