Ohio Won’t Remember Me

Well I’ll be damned. Ya’ll are some irascible mother fuckers. God damn I love you crazy bastards.

And I use irascible in the street sense of course. Which means cool as shit.

Well I had myself a time writing that essay, and a better time reading your comments.

And there is just so much shit that I want to say right now, and I won’t get any of it done I know. Because it’s about Midnight and Ohio won’t remember shit. AKA GF is almost ready for bed and I still haven’t showered.

I wanted to talk about what I just ate and how damned good it was. And the work day with coworker. The coworker from the other posts. Everything turned out hunkey dorey with that red faced dude. Man, I like him actually. And I wanted to talk about how I been looking at Seth Godin all wrong. I been straight up talking a lot about that dude, in fact he’s about to rival Chuck Klosterman for most talked about dude on Anyone’s Ghost. But all my memories of what Seth Godin is talking about are all skewed because I read them like three or more years ago and I’m a whole different dude these days. And I wanted to talk about…something else too what was it. Oh how I totally lied to my coworker and he loved me for it.

In a perfect world I’ll have some time to write tomorrow. But the world ain’t perfect so we’ll just have to see.

But ho damn I just ate the most luxurious shit. Just walked through the door and had some roast duck and some squash soup GF made in class. Then I had some banana bread GF made at home. And I drank some Harpoon Winter Warmer. I feel so warm on the inside.

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Damn It Damn It Damn It

Here’s what I’ve got so far for my illustrious new essay on people who don’t think their blogs are good enough to read:

 

The particular writing paradox I want to address is illustrated succinctly by this quote from a blog post entitled “Here We Go Again,” from The Matticus Kingdom:

I’d really like to be able to make a living doing this writing thing and I’m hoping this blog will be a good platform to learn and grow as a writer, test my abilities, and build up a following.  Though, I’m not sure who would be silly enough to actually enjoy anything I write.

I’ve seen it said a hundred different ways and the first time I saw it was on my own blog, probably twelve different ways in twelve different posts that I posted on the same day.

Most everyone who blogs has at least considered making money from writing. I’m going to go so far as to say that most everyone who blogs fancies themselves a writer. And everyone knows these days that whatever you’re doing, you should probably have a following, a tribe, a platform. But how the hell do you do that? Well, you probably type that question into Google and spend the next three hours learning how to create a following. Then you don’t do anything about it for another week. Then you sit down to write some of your novel and you think, shit, I should probably have a following. Then you wonder why you haven’t been blogging all week.

Well, that’s one way things can go. Another way is you have those ideas in the back of your head, about a platform and this and that, and you think, well shit, I’m going to just write whatever I want on this blog. No one can stop me! But then you’re pretty sure that’s a bad idea. No one gets a following that way. Like Seth Godin says, are you sure what you’re saying is interesting, or is it just interesting to you? Well, if you’re a writer and you probably are, you’re probably pretty sure nothing you have to say is interesting, except those things that you work really hard on and edit and revise and you’re working on that, it’s coming out next summer, you swear!

 

Well that’s it. It sounds like a god damn preface to writing blogs for dummies. How did I get so detached from the subject? How did me become you? How did I lose the feeling…how did I lose the subject for that matter? I’m talking about this cycle that happens to me, not what I mean to be talking about which is this widespread belief that what you’re writing isn’t fit for reading. What you’re writing? What we’re writing? Shit! This is hard.

Public Consumption

Readability Index: To blazes with this index as it’s not doing shit for anybody.

Sounds like this post is going to be about tuberculosis. But what I’m talking about is also a kind of disease that I’ve come to recognize, first in myself and now in the blogging world at large.

Me and people like me, we are scared that people won’t want to read our shit. We are pretty sure they won’t want to. We are also nice and we don’t want to waste people’s time. So we try to warn people not to read our shit.

This could end up being the subject of my first essay as a part of my new project.

I was just looking at pricklymooseprincess’s blog…I think I got that right, but can’t look it up because time is running out and anyway I’ll come back and do all the proper research before posting to my new blog…which I haven’t decided yet how to handle…but anyway her tagline says, “This will not enrich your life.” It was a very familiar sentiment to me, because I could have used it for my own blog. I thought before I started blogging that all this amateur feelings driven diary type bullshit was meaningless to everyone. I wouldn’t want to read someone else’s bullshit so why would they want to read mine?

Seth Godin calls these kinds of blogs “Cat Blogs” because you basically tell long stories about your cat and have pictures and people are just as bored by that as they are by you in real life. He says these blogs add little value to the world. And maybe he’s right, he’s pretty fucking smart. And he has the most viewed blog anywhere, or he did two years ago when I was reading his posts every day.

So you think, well shit I’m going to go ahead and throw up some words on a blog and tell everyone not to read them, that way they can’t blame me when they find out that I can’t write for shit, that I have nothing interesting to say to anyone. That’s what I thought when I started.

But there I was reading pricklymooseprincess’s blog and I thought, well god damn, this shit has enriched my life. Who would have thought?

And hers is definitely not the only blog that I have found this to be true about.

For my essay I’ll give specifics, but just to get a general idea…well when I look for new blogs to read I just type in “Random Bullshit” or “Rambling” or “Not fit for public consumption” and there are lots of blogs to choose from. Everyone is hedging, they want people to read their writing and be moved by it, but they think that this is a lot harder than it is. I think so even now as I type and imply that it isn’t. Because maybe it isn’t.

So anyway you got a guy who fancies himself a writer but has never published anything because he doesn’t think it’s good enough. And then he can just get on a blog and hit publish all day and no one can stop him. But he still says every time, well this shit’s no good, but if you want to waste your time reading it…well I won’t stop you.

Next thing you know people are liking that shit. Now this doesn’t always happen because a lot of writers will hit publish and then never go around reading other people’s shit. I did that a few times before I made this blog and no one has looked at those blogs to this day. So in order to have people connect to what you write, you have to at least make an effort to connect to what they’re writing. And personally I didn’t think it would be worth my time to do that, since I already knew my blog wasn’t worth anyone’s time, and I held a deep seated belief that even though my work was crap I was a better writer than most people. Even authors who have been published. So this arrogance and this self-loathing…or work-loathing leads to isolation. No one does look at your work and you’re proved right all along.

But it’s crazy. I had some free time and I started this blog and said fuck it I’m just going to write whatever dumb shit comes to mind and I don’t care what Seth Godin says. And forget all the advice I’ve read about blogging and capturing audiences and creating tribes and all that shit. Fuck that shit. Fuck making money on this…fuck everything. And then after I wrote it I decided fuck it, I bet I can get some people to read this dumb shit. So I went out and to get some comments going on and to like some stuff purely so people would come back and read my shit. But when I got out there on the blogosphere suddenly I found myself engaged in these other writers. Then I really did like what they wrote. Then I decided to comment the same way I was blogging. I’ll just say whatever comes to mind, no matter how dumb it is, no matter how uncool it might seem. And bam, what the fuck, here I am with some real shit going on. My whole outlook on blogging and even life has changed to a degree. And definitely my idea of writing.

So anyway, I have to go to this god damn super bowl party now. But I’ll be back tomorrow to further explore this idea this thing I’m trying to get at. And to call out some people who seem to be going through what I was, too.

Hot damn. Blogging is the shit.

What I’ve Learned So Far About Blogging and Life

Readability Index: Unreadable Due to Length

Alright what I’m going to try to do here is create a unique field theory…I mean a unified field theory of blogging by me. A unified field theory of my life and what blogging means to it. What has writing this blog done to me over the last week and how can I make it useful to my life. How can I enjoy it more fully. How can I do something…how can I feel good about it.

Well, like the first time I started blogging on this mother fucker, I’ve got The National keyed up. Playing “Anyone’s Ghost” over and over again. Great song. I can lose myself in the rhythm of it.

Sometimes I feel like cursing and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I feel nice and sometimes I’m itchy. Someone just called me. I hate phones because they interrupt everything. People are mad at me all the time because I don’t pick up my phone. But I can’t plan for that shit. I don’t know how they made it back in the day with regular phones just ringing all the time and you couldn’t even see who was calling. Screening your calls meant listening to the answering machine.

But that’s all beside the point of course.

I washed the dishes and ate another muffin. I should eat again before I go to work. I was thinking I should enjoy work and stop dreading leaving the house, but that’s just part of me, dreading leaving the house, I can have as much fun as I want when I get out there but the next day I’ll be dreading it all over again. Much like taking a shower.

I still feel like this blog is a kind of fleeting addiction. I have them all the time. Sometimes I’m really into drawing, or basketball, or wine, or…well anything. The one activity I have done throughout my life is writing. So maybe that bodes well for the blog. Because this is a good kind of writing. A kind of writing that motivates me to keep writing. I really like just spitting out my thoughts. And the craziest thing about it is that people read it. It’s there for people to read, like a well dressed pamphlet fluttering down a busy street, but unlike the pamphlet that gets stomped on and waved away and stuck to car bumpers, this blog gets read by people from all over the world. They take time to read the words that came straight out of my head, without any revision or intense labor over them. It’s crazy to me that people like to read that much. Now I like to read that much, but I never thought that so many other people did. It’s the difference between knowing something and feeling it, is something I always say. I know that people are like me, but I don’t feel it.

But along with the addiction idea, is the feeling that perhaps this isn’t healthy. Perhaps I should be going outside and running around, or cleaning the house, or getting a part time job, or toiling away at writing a novel. This is just a part of how I feel about everything except actual paid by the hour work, the feeling that I should be doing something else, that I could be doing something more productive at that moment. The times I snap out of this feeling are usually when I consider that some people don’t have any time or any choice of what they do at any time of the day. A man with no lets can’t decide to cut his toenails, and a starving child can’t decide whether to eat coconut almond muffins or just skip lunch. So that usually gets me focused back on the crazy thing about my life which is that I have the world available to me, as unfair as that may be to other people.

And I use the word crazy too much. It’s kind of a catch all for things I don’t understand or can’t grasp, as well as something I aspire to, like ‘damn that dude is crazy!’

So I don’t want to feel like this is an addiction. Something I think about all the time, that I can’t wait to get back to, that I’m unhappy if I’m not doing it…unless I do want to feel like that. Isaac Asimov felt like that about writing fiction and I’ve always admired him. A lot of people say about writers: “If you can’t not write, then you’re a writer.” I’ve always replied, “well I guess I’m not a writer because I could sleep all day, wake up drink and watch Downton Abbey reruns and I won’t be worried about a damn bit of writing.” Writing is usually something I do because I’m good at it and I like it. Not because I need it. But maybe being addicted to this blog will be like needing to write, which would then put me in the company of great writers, which would then perhaps make me a great writer.

The most wonderful thing about this blog, and I mean wonderful in the truly literal sense as in it creates within my mind a great sense of…wonder…is that I have been able to in some way make at least one person’s life a little more interesting. It’s really weird, actually, to have the effect on someone through writing. I like to think that I make people’s lives better in general when I know them, because I’m hardworking and nice and charming; but it’s super weird to think that my writing has affected someone I don’t know outside of the written word relationship of blogging. Of course I’ve always known that that was what writing is all about, but I didn’t feel it. And when I say feel and know, of course they are happening in the same place, in the mind with the chemicals and neural pathways and all that, I’m really differentiating between theoretical knowledge and practical knowledge. In theory writing is communication with other minds…but I’ve never before felt the practical application of that knowledge. Just had to make a note for those Ayn Rand types who would laugh at my use of the word “feel.” Ah see, sometimes I worry about impressions for long periods of time without even realizing it. Then again, you can’t say you’re not thinking about the impression you’re making if you’re writing for people to look at it. You’re writing expressly to create an impression, whether in your own mind or someone else’s. What I don’t want to do at least on this blog is to worry that I’m making the wrong impression. Because as I’ve stated before I spend most of m life doing that.

The practical uses of this blog, and by that what I mean to say (or meantersay, as Joe Gargery would say) is the uses of the blog that I would be happy with even if no one ever saw it, are numerous. Being namely that words look pretty on this blog, my thoughts are organized with tags and categories, and even while I’m typing this information is being saved on the internet so that even if my computer should spontaneously combust, I would not lose any of this. So those are good things. Before I started blogging I would write this kind of random bullshit gibberish, but I would save it on a Word document. I would lose all those with my computer. Also with this infinite display of the articles in reverse chronological order, I can more easily reread these posts than I can read all those word documents that are separated and whatnot.

Hm yes but what is the overall idea. What is the purpose? Of course, we all know how I feel about the purpose of life. Since we’re doomed it really doesn’t matter what we do. Except that we can’t. But that’s a load of horseshit.

What then is the difference between bullshit and horseshit?

I do want to create something of value. And I do love writing in this extemporaneous style. Revisions have always been a bitch to me. I have always thought of art as revision, controlling the impression you’re making on people. And that’s well and good. You can’t have a wonderful novel like Freedom without revision. You can’t have an awesome movie like Spartacus without editing. Hm but maybe you can have an incredible novel like On the Road if you practice writing a lot a lot and fill your head jam packed with experiences and information and then sit down at your computer with a gallon of coffee and type for a week straight.

Maybe I will write something in the vein of On the Road, with a Hunter S Thompson slant, with a subject that is truth, that is not fictitious. I will be like Chuck Klosterman, perhaps. The more I blog the more I like that mother fucker and I never once really thought about it before, except right after I got done reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. I’d pretty much forgotten about him until it came up while I was commenting on someone else’s blog and now I find myself quoting him a lot. And what he does is pretty cool. He talks about the world we live in in a funny way. And an insightful way. I bet I could do something like that at least 10 percent as good as him if I really worked at it.

I think my style of writing is pretty engaging. If I were to talk about something people cared about, I think at least some people would find that worthwhile. Hrmph well…shit

I Could Sleep for Ages

Readability Index: Weak

Sometimes I have trouble falling asleep, but I never have trouble staying asleep. If my girlfriend didn’t wake me up, I’d sleep till two or three and I’d only get up then because I felt guilty.

But here I am, up early than a motherfucker, well, it was early when I originally got up at 7:30, and already jumping on the blog. Jumping on this shit like it’s an emergency.

My girl’s out the door on the way to her first culinary school field trip.

Looks like today, the sixth day of this blogs existence, I’ve already broken my personal best record for number of unique visitors. And we’re starting to get some traffic from places outside the US, which is super fucking cool.

I originally thought, all those six days ago, that I was going to use the blog mostly for recording my thoughts. I guess I have, but I just had no idea that most all of my thoughts would be about blogging.

I had a couple dreams. One was I was on a bus with some prisoners and they were planning an escape and I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I couldn’t figure out if I was a prisoner, a ghost, a cop… And the other one there was some big jewelry craft fair right at the top of the subway station and they wouldn’t let me get to work.

I had some coffee. I put brown sugar in it. Now I’m shaking.

That could be a poem right there

Cup of canned coffee

And some brown sugar

Shaking like a bean

Atop a Washing Machine

There you go.

But nah washing machine doesn’t have shit to do with anything. What else shakes. Atop a shaking machine. Atop a bacon machine.

There’s a bus in 33 minutes and another one in 53 minutes. I should take the 33 but…I want to just sit here.

Usually I jump into things pretty forcefully and then leave just as quickly. On that kind of timeline I guess I’ll be done with blogging pretty soon. My interest just wanes with everything eventually. Except of course my girlfriend and sleeping. And eating.

But before I go I do want to write something meaningful. Like how to make vodka taste like an orange julius. Or some kind of news article or something. I think I should probably write a non-fiction book.

I feel like I’m really having trouble getting the flow going this morning. I think it has something to do with the knowledge that I have to leave soon anyway, so I can’t keep it rolling. If I want to really get into a rollicking good time I have to know that I can stay with it for an inordinate amount of time.

Easy Skanking

Easy Skanking

Little Bit Easier

Excuse me while I light my spliff

Oh God I got to take a lift

From reality ya just can’t drift

That’s why I’m stickin with this riff

That reminded me of something while I was typing it. Oh yeah tags. It looks like when I tagged “WordPress” on my post “The End of the Day,” that created some kind of portal for some new people to arrive here. Or was it when I linked it…no it was a tag. None of my other tags have had that effect. Kind of cool.

This link suggestion tool is constantly trying to get me to connect to Rotten Tomatoes. I want to help them out with their promotional links and all, but I’m not going to link Oh God to whatever movie that corresponds to.

My whole life is the Party of Special Things To Do.