It’s fascinating to wonder what people will find cool. I don’t know if it should be stupid, smart, lowbrow, highbrow, “midbrow” (you can use that, by the way), or whatever the hell else. I do know that funny helps. And that self-pity don’t sell for sheeit, so get over yourself. Also, racial humor might increase your number of hits but…with a price. Yet who wouldn’t want notoriety if nothing else, even for the cost of a few virtual sneers?
I think that might be me, actually. So do I bruise up my nature, becoming “edgy” and sharp, irritable? It’s not like I’m a stand-up comedian, though. I can’t start every entry, update, tweet, et cetera with, “So what’s the DEAL with________?” Nor can I segue with a handy “And speaking of _____, what’s the DEAL with____.” Why not, you ask? For the good reason that I want to be real, honest, unrehearsed, not to say uncareful. I believe in the power of the written word, but to mine that power takes careful consideration and work.
Yet perhaps it’s the consideration that undoes me. If I could be more free, more CRAZY and off the wall, less grammar- and spelling-oriented, would that please the readers, the seekers, the deciders of what’s being read?
Brian Wilson plainly concludes, “I guess I just wasn’t made for these times.” I don’t want to give up that easily. Does some celebrity need to be scandalized on my pages? Some pet, or kid, needs to be cute? Some guy needs to be careless of his personal safety? Does someone need to be shot, indicted, or outed? Maybe I need to get political; it couldn’t hurt to form a solid opinion about the issues and talk about them. Maybe someone would eventually say I was one of the few fresh, honest voices left in the world, or at least the cyberworld.
It’s a trip, man, it really is. It’s not that I’m struggling with it, I’m just considering it. I know a “War and Peace” won’t increase my views per day. Nor, necessarily, will a “Grass Growing,” or a “Paint Drying.” What about something really heavy, or meaningful? Probably not. It has to be shortish, cuteish, to the pointish, and Scottish is good as well.
Focusing on one thing would help, too. If Franz Kafka had an internet presence, you can bet he wouldn’t just talk about “Whatever.” He’d have to stay on message, like a party, and keep the people rallied about the importance of his voice. But what would he talk about? The uselessness of mankind’s industry? The hopelessness of his dreams? The sad truth of his meaningless, dull existence and the inevitable trial of miseries and misunderstandings leading up to a nihilistically pointless death? Who the fuck would read that?
He’d be writing about biscuits, ice cream, maybe a dab here and there about Prague’s economy, or elections.
Where’s the brilliance? The standing-out? WHERE DO I FIND IT? I guess I just don’t GET certain things yet. But I can’t talk about Mexican cooking. Or drumming. Or working out, or Huey P. Newton. Who cares? Some dweeb, ten times more established than me, is already talking about them. And he’s probably Scottish.

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