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Got me a little space to work in.

Growing up, art was kinda what I did. I partook in other creative mediums like everyone else, and I had my favorites — books, films, music, etc. But what I did was visual. And I did it all the time. I never occurred to me that I should really be doing anything else and whether or not anyone cared about it was superfluous. It didn’t matter; it was just what I did. Until I didn’t anymore.

I have no idea why it’s been so hard for me to return to making art. But, I think part of it is that I’ve been conditioned, over time, both by the world and myself, that it’s not something I should take seriously. In fact, no creative endeavor that I can possibly engage in should ever be taken seriously. “Adulting” will do that to a person, or, at least, it did it to me. As a young adult, I didn’t really have the luxury of falling back on my family for much support financially, which might have been okay had I been even remotely prepared for making it financially in the world on my own. My very early steps were comprised entirely of single chances at anything, so if it didn’t take immediately on the first try, that was it. There was a lot of that. And it’s hard to learn anything when you can’t make any mistakes (or be unavoidably subject to the mistakes of others…lookin’ at you, Mom & Dad…). Without getting into details, there was a moment that sent me spiraling off my chosen and destined path, which was completely out of my hands, and while I did my best to steer it back, it was futile — decades removed, I can see that very clearly.*

This is purely a medium/materials exercise. Figuring out the best way to glue to collage.

I think of that moment in time occasionally and I still can’t figure out how I could have done any better than I did, and I did not do well. I can’t go back and retroactively give myself the knowledge and tools required.

Working in some paint to pull things forward…

But, since then, it was demonstrated to me repeatedly that one simply can’t take one’s art seriously — it cannot serve you in any way that matters (and survival was what had to matter). In addition to that, I was told — again, repeatedly, by multiple people — that literally no one would care about anything I did. I recall being confronted with the question: What makes you think anyone should care about what you do? As if, how dare I? It wasn’t difficult for me to internalize that because, well, I already had. This was a recurring unspoken question I’d grown up with.

…more paint and poppin’.

None of this is particularly unique to me, and creative types with worse backgrounds than me went on to take their art seriously and believe that, indeed, people would care…should, even. But I am a contradictory combination of determined/bold and fearful/meek — these qualities waver, combine, and split apart, depending on the context, the time, the day, the weather, the fates…who knows? Not me. And it’s far harder than therapists will tell you it is to fix, even while they tell you how so very hard it will be and how very long it will take.

And some drawings as proof of actual talent…

Reversing these mindsets and patterns of behavior is a herculean task, and no amount or type guidance is sufficient, if you can even find it. So, yeah, it takes decades. It has for me, and I’m still chiseling away at it.

But now I feel like producing art. And I’m still having a very, very difficult time taking it seriously. I expect people will or will not take it seriously, but I myself — right now — just can’t. Even though I know there’s no reason not to. I believe it’s just habit — habit of not taking myself and anything I might produce seriously. Imagine developing such a habit. Who’s got two thumbs and actually does that? (This guy.)

So, I am taking the making of the art seriously, and I’ll just have to wait a bit longer to be able to, naturally, take the content seriously. It’ll be a little while, unless I can find something in what I’m doing to take seriously myself. It’s a process. We’ll see where it goes.

(Wtf even is this…?)

* I know the popular response is to poo-poo this as being sour grapes. Like, my parents “weren’t perfect, but did the best they could.” Like, I’m just blaming my parents for my failures regardless of what they did or didn’t do because it’s easier than “taking responsibility.” My situation is complicated. And the fact is that I did, in fact, take responsibility for their actions for most of my life. I blamed myself entirely. But at some removal of my brain’s immature insistence that my parents would not do anything intentionally to harm me, the actual facts say different. I had to ignore a lot to maintain responsibility. It was less an intentional harm, but more that they simply didn’t care that the actions/decisions that helped them or helped my siblings had dire consequences for me — and this happened over and over. There are reasons too wild to get into here, but, suffice to say, this is not simply blaming someone because shit didn’t turn out the way I’d planned.

Prepare yourself for a whole lot of unpopular opinions, or, I assume they will be unpopular, because I am clearly “out of touch.”

So, recall that I’ve been motoring around Reddit anonymously. I joined the “goth” subreddit, just to see what was going on, and…I don’t know what’s going on. Here are a few things I’ve noticed and don’t get:

1. Someone indicated that they’d never heard Bauhaus and wanted to know if they were problematic.

    Really? First, everyone is “problematic” in some way, so the answer would be relative to whatever you did or did not think was problematic (and who can possibly answer that for you?). Second, is this what we’re doing now? Not even approaching a thing until we can clear it ahead of time, so…what? So we don’t get busted later for accidentally liking a band/writer/filmmaker/ etc. who is “problematic” for someone out there in the world (spoiler: there will be someone)? A respondent did mention that Peter Murphy has drug issues and could therefore possibly be seen as promoting drug use, and that’s bad. And so the OP, presumably, has to take all the answers provided and crunch the numbers, deciding who/what groups they feel are worth siding with and who can be ignored (tricky, but unavoidable!). And if they decide that Bauhaus is too problematic to be caught listening to? What’s the protocol? Do they avoid Bauhaus at all costs? Listen to them secretly? Do they actively rail against a band they’ve literally never heard because they decided whether or not to like them before they heard a single note, and, in fact, refused to hear a single note?

    Call me nuts, but I prefer the way we did this before (before exactly what point is hard to say) — we’d, you know, listen to the band, decide if we liked them, and later, if we either discovered something “problematic,” we could then choose whether or not to continue listening to that band. And it was our own business and there weren’t really any social repercussions. I am assuming that’s not possible anymore because if someone finds out you’ve engaged with any problematic media at any point in your life, you will forever be deemed suspect.

    Yeah, that’s not remotely healthy.

    2. A lot of people seeking permission to like things — clothing, all media, etc. Trying to find out the hard facts as to what is permissible with what. It seems that folks don’t know that you can like and do whatever the hell you want. It seems as though they are concerned that if they like/do this and that, these might not be compatible and therefore they cannot called themselves “goth.” I will say this: It’s true. Someone said that because the goth scene is a music-based subculture, as long as one listens to that music, one can wear whatever one wants and call themselves “goth.” I’m here to tell you: No, you cannot. And I can already hear people squealing about my Gatekeeping meanness. But I ask you this: How many known elements of a subculture can you remove until it ceases to be what it was? I argue that the Goth subculture is musically, aesthetically, and philosophically based. You need to check these boxes (this is an simple overview — the boxes contain sub-boxes that can be mixed and matched, etc.) if you really want to be considered “goth.” If you only check the one box — say, music — and you’re mad you can’t be “goth” because of that, I ask you: Why must you be “goth” in the first place? WHat the hell do you have riding on this? Because if you’re not checking the boxes, frankly, it doesn’t really sound like you’re that into it, and if you’re not, why do you need to force yourself, and everyone else, to acknowledge you’re something you’re clearly not? We used to have a word for that: Tourist. The fact is that you don’t need to be here and you’re really just passing through, or you want full access without fulfilling the criteria, simply because you want it.

    And what’s so wrong with subculture tourism? Nothing, really, unless…your presence in the subculture is diluting the meaning of it in the first place. What do I mean by that? I mean: diluting the meaning of the subculture for the people who really belong there. Frankly, diluting a subculture just because you want what you want (even if it’s not really what you want) is a dick move. There are people who check all the boxes and are so into it, it truly is a lifestyle — it’s not a weekend thing. If affects their relationship with the mainstream culture, therefore the subculture is their refuge. And when people who are into some aspect of their subculture in passing clog up the works, it makes their subculture less welcoming to them. And they belong there, not the tourists. Imagine, if you will, a gathering celebrating African American culture is absolutely swamped by white folks that it’s ten white folks for every Black folk — it’s not cool. It ceases to be a gathering for Black folks celebrating Black stuff. It becomes a gathering of white folks who are there for any number of reasons, least likely actually celebrating and respecting Black culture.

    And — this is important — the only white people who would complain that not allowing white people at the Black gathering is racist are, in fact, racists that do not belong there. So, if you’re one of a ton of people demanding to be called “goth,” and you’re mad because the regulars aren’t as perfectly welcoming as you think they should be, you can…go away. That’s it — just go away.

    I know, you want to say, “Well, that’s not nice.” And to that I ask, you know what’s not nice? I’ll tell you. Not having a refuge from mainstream culture people, and having mainstream culture people taking up the space in the little refuge you had. That’s super not nice. Luckily, we have normal, natural social behaviors to counteract that — ignoring, shunning, or flat out forcing you out. Mean, right? Not really — it’s a common behavioral attribute of all social groups. When the members don’t do that, their group falls apart.

    3. Someone asked what was the biggest mistake you made when first starting out (as “goth”). We’ll get to the “starting out” part later. Anyway, someone said that the mistake they made was assuming that everyone would be — you guessed it — perfectly welcoming. They seemed to have had the very common experience of interacting with an asshole, maybe multiple assholes. Or, just someone who saw through their bullshit and didn’t roll out the welcome mat. I mean, we’ll never know, right? As I said above, if you’re not being accepted into the group, it might be you, so, you know, take stock. Or, they’re just an asshole. Assholes are everywhere, in every group. But, apparently, that’s controversial.

    Someone replied that if, indeed, someone was being mean inside the Goth community, they were, in fact, not a real goth. Are we keeping track of this? So, there is no true definition of “goth” in the Goth subculture — you can pretty much wear, listen to, watch, read, and think in every possible way antithesis to anything “goth” has ever been and still call yourself “goth.” But you can’t be mean. If you’re mean, you get kicked right the fuck out.

    It’s hard not to assume that these new rules are being made and perpetuated by people who really aren’t very comfortable in the goth scene because, well, they’re not “goth.” But they feel compelled to be there for some reason probably best addressed in therapy (I’m not kidding — there’s something bent about forcing yourself into various subcultures you’re only vaguely interested in).

    4. Returning to that “starting out” point: What? Starting out? The people in the goth subreddit often speak in terms of when they “started” being “goth,” their “first year,” the “first five years,” etc. Has the Goth community turned into some kind of university system? Goth freshman, sophomores, etc…? And it’s something you actively commence? Like, you do your research, take notes, and then one day you just…do those things, like those things, think these things, be this certain way? I genuinely can’t wrap my head around that one.

    Okay, look. You either like something or you don’t. You’re either into the things a scene is generally into, or you’re not. If you’re forcing it, you probably don’t need to be there. Experimenting is fine, exploration is fine, but that’s what it has to be — experimentation and exploration, which we do with ourselves, inside ourselves, and usually from the context that it’s already something we’re attracted to. You don’t need anyone’s opinion on that. And you don’t need to check boxes that you’re not just naturally checking yourself. In the social setting, you be yourself and you put yourself out there, you interact, make friends, become a part of the larger scene. This is a natural process that doesn’t require forcing yourself to like or think this or that, hence that first part: be yourself. If “yourself” doesn’t include enough of what makes “goth” Goth, go elsewhere. You can’t follow your bliss until you find it first, and guess what? It’s easy to find, because it’s just who you are, naturally.

    All of this, to me, gives me an idea as to why many subcultures have become, well, kind of lame. They’re no longer strictly places for the people whose natural Self does not fit into the mainstream culture. These people don’t have any choice with this, but now the spaces they created for themselves have been inundated with people who absolutely do have a choice, and they demonstrate that choice by asking these stupid question in the goth subReddit about what’s allowed and what’s not allowed, when, as they say, if you know, you know. Trust me, you know where you do and do not belong.

    If you’re not sure which subculture you belong in, it might be the case that you really just fit fine into the mainstream culture, so go ahead and do that. I honestly can’t understand why anyone would want to force themselves into a subculture, because not meshing with the mainstream — for real — isn’t easy. There are costs — socially, economically, etc. Actually, that’s a good rule of thumb as well: If there’s not a tangible price you’re paying to be a part of the subculture, you probably don’t belong there. These are outsider places and if you’re not an outsider, you will become one in relation to the subculture. And don’t complain. You should consider yourself lucky you can fit into the mainstream without tearing your very soul apart trying to do so.

    And none of this should be an issue. I’m not sure why people get so upset about this. It’s not like you’re being relegated to a culture that you don’t fit into — just find the one that you do actually fit into and stop trying to square-peg-round-hole it with other subcultures on your personal whim. I promise you, you’re a pain in the ass for the people who have nowhere else to go and therefore do belong there.

    Sorry (not really), but these things I’m noticing in this virtual “goth” space all seem to point to the fact that there are probably more goth tourists in the scene now than there are actual goths. And I wouldn’t be shocked if that were the case to some degree or another across subcultures. It wasn’t always like this, and it’s actually quite a bummer. And I’m tried of this idea that one is mean just because one wants their fucking cultural space back.

    Perhaps I will yammer on about belonging to multiple subcultures in a future post? Is it a thing? It certainly is! And it’s totally kosher!

    Always Looking the Other Way by Mike Davis

    This is from last month, but both of these artists are 👍🏻. Really like Mike Davis in particular, and hey, you can snag this painting for the low, low price of $16,000. Man, I ain’t complaining; worth every penny. Imagine the amount of work. Love it. ❤️

    I think I used to be more creative with blog titles, but I just don’t give a shit anymore. I have a lot to do and blogging makes me feel a little like I’m shirking my responsibilities, but the fact is that, these little chunks of time in which I blog aren’t long enough to do anything else I have to do. Right now, I have a little time to kill before I go off to an appointment — not enough time to get into the to-do list of the day, so why waste it? (I mean, I’m not sure this is a good use of this time, but it’s better than plopping down on the couch and watching another video on YouTube.) (You’re welcome.)

    You need to see these postcards, though. I’m definitely going to send these to random people for no reason.

    The previously-posted Wolverine Ravaging a Hunter’s Pack… Not sure why we aren’t just calling these “The Glutton.”

    The wolverine (/ˈwʊlvəriːn/ WUUL-və-reen, US also /ˌwʊlvəˈriːn/ WUUL-və-REEN;[4] Gulo guloGulo is Latin for “glutton”), also referred to as the gluttoncarcajou, or quickhatch (from East Cree, kwiihkwahaacheew), is the largest land-dwelling member of the family Mustelidae.

    Wiki

    “KOTZEBUE, Alaska — A typical scene of Eskimo children and their friend on the on the shore of Kotzebue Sound.”

    “Eskimo”…hmm. Well, at least their friend is ❤️.

    “WATER FUN AT POINT PLEASANT, N.J.”

    Presumably far better than the “water fun” at Point Pleasant, W.V. *sad trombone*

    “THRONE OF CITRUS ROYALTY — When this unique throne is not being used by Florida Citrus Queens, visitors from all over the world can make pictures of their friends and family as they sit on the throne and reign as King or Queen for a day.”

    I’m going to assume the woman on the throne here is a friend of the guy in the red shirt taking the picture and she came dressed like that.

    Cypress Gardens was a botanical garden and theme park near Winterhaven, Florida that operated from 1936 to 2009. As of 2011, the botanical garden portion had been preserved inside the newly formed Legoland, Florida.

    Wiki

    “THE BLUE FOUNTAIN DINER-RESTAURANT: 1050 Stelton Road, Piscataway, N.J. 08854. Finest of Food and Service. All Baking done on premises. Business Luncheons – Parties – Dinners. Catering for all occasion. 1 – 150 persons. Private Dining Rooms. One of New Jersey’s Most Beautiful Diners. Open 24 hours a dat, 7 days a week. Call for reservations 201-752-0111, 201-752-0113 William Kopsaftis, Prop.”

    Nice, this still exists, except it’s both fancier (“Fontainebleau” Diner) and less fancy (“American Food”). Blue Fountain in French is Fontain bleue, unless this place is named very specifically for the Fountainbleau French commune, but…

    According to the official chateau history, “Fontainebleau” took its name in the 16th century from the “Fontaine Belle-Eau”, a natural fresh water spring located in the English garden not far from the chateau. The name means “Spring of beautiful water”.

    Wiki

    I might have to send this to them anonymously…

    “CASINO GAMBLING — ATLANTIC CITY, N.J.”

    I wish it said which casino…

    “ELEPHANT HOTEL. Margate – Atlantic City, N.J. The only elephant in the world you go through and come out alive. This famous building was erected in 1885. The elephant contains ten rooms; its interior is visited by thousands.”

    I need to go through this elephant and come out alive. For real, this elephant’s name is Lucy and you can read her long history here!

    “ALASKAN 36-POUND TROUT: A proud angler displays an ‘Alaska-Size’ trout weighing more than 1/3 her own weight. Little wonder the vast 49th state is ‘The Fishing Capital of the World.'”

    *Capitol 🫤 Another “Alaska Joe Original.”

    “Greetings from ATLANTIC CITY, N.J.”

    The only postcard with something specific to date it actually has a date on it, although the giveaway was inaccurate anyway. The Exorcist was released in 1973; this postcard is dated 1977. Whatever the case, this one’s staying with me as a bookmark.

    Also…pick your Yellow Fever: This one, this one, or this one. Or have all three!

    Thanks, Smirnoff. Not gonna lie — I want this Yellow Fever set, and I want to drink Yellow Fevers from it. 🍋

    Also, I do not have this postcard, but it’s cool to compare the two. Here’s some info on The Strand…

    The Criterion Theatre was operating as a live theatre in 1910 it was briefly operated by Loew’s Inc. in that initial opening year. It was located on the Boardwalk opposite the Steel Pier. It was listed in the 1914-1915 edition of American Motion Picture Directory. On March 22, 1925 it was renamed Strand Theatre, reopening with Sid Chaplin in “Charley’s Aunt”. It was equipped with a 2 manual Wurlitzer organ. Listed in the 1941 edition of Film Daily Yearbook as part of Ventnor Realty & Leasing Co. They were still the operators until 1970 when it was taken over by Frank Theatres and began screening adult movies, which ceased in 1972. On June 16, 1973 it reopened as the Talkies Theatre screening classic movies, which closed at the end of the summer season. It reverted back to the Strand Theatre name and closed in 1979

    It most likely was demolished for construction of one of the casinos.

    And click here to possibly date the above postcard to 1938…? Pretty cool. So, that’s the front of the Steel Pier, which you can see the side of above.

    I while back, someone used my email to create a Reddit account. I’m not really sure of the ins and outs of this sort of bullshittery, but recently, I was perusing Reddit for some piece of information or another, remembered someone had done that, signed in using my email password, and then changed the password and commandeered the account.

    I thought, I should change the username to something I would use, because the name they chose was stupid and not “me” at all. But, apparently, that’s not permitted. And then I thought, what the hell, I’ll use this account anyway, and here’s the effect it’s had.

    For the first time in a very long time, I haven’t had to frequently decide whether or not I will post or comment something. I think everyone does this to some extent, but I seemed to be unaware of the extent to which I did it because it was a noticeable sensation. And, frankly, it’s awesome. Well, first like wtf? and then awesome.

    Incognito, I don’t have to worry about what anyone I know thinks about some of the weird-ass shit I’m into. I don’t have to worry about what anyone I know thinks about my opinion, or how I state that opinion, etc. I think, if you know me, in real life or online, you might be surprised that’d I’d be concerned about that. I know I can be rather blunt, and weird, etc. But, first, I can tell you: I’m a lot weirder than you probably think. And second: I’m just as surprised. And frankly, I’m glad I did this, completely on a whim.

    I used to be the kind of person who really did not give a shit, for all the right reasons, but apparently, over the decades, I’ve lost enough of that so that when it was brought to my attention, it was really a bit of a surprise. That’s absolutely unacceptable. But, as with a lot of things, it’s hard to rewire that, especially when it’s gone under the radar for so long.

    So, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to keep using this account and wander around Reddit — I will call this a form of therapy; it’s an exercise in rewiring my brain. I’m not going to let it screw up my quest for Internet liberation, but just enough for this therapeutic use. I’m going to go to all the weird groups, explore all the weird shit, and say whatever the fuck I want. In this way, I’m hoping I can retrain my brain to be what it once was and then transfer that over into my non-anonymous life, on- and offline.

    You might be thinking that I’m giving myself permission to be a complete and utter abusive asshole, which is a definite problem with anonymity on the Internet, but I have zero desire to do that. I spent some time very long ago kind of being an asshole to strangers on the Internet (think ’90s…probably the last time I had an anonymous ID online, actually). I’m not that type of person, generally speaking, but I think — at the time — it was liberating (like what I’m doing now is), but liberating for the wrong reasons. I’d been on the receiving end of that a lot in the real world — from friends, family, and strangers — and I think I just needed to get some of that anger/aggression out of my system. But this isn’t that.

    I suggest you do this. Have at least one identity online, somewhere, where no one knows who the hell you are. Even if you think you’re pretty straight forward ,and perhaps even a little much for most people. You might find that you’re not as much as you think.

    Afterthought: I’m realizing that a lot of people probably already do this. A lot of people might not have a single online account anywhere that betrays their real identity. And now I’m wondering what it’s been with me — why have I never done this in, like, 26-27 years of being online? On one hand, it’s great in the way I’ve described (and am enjoying), but on the other hand, fact is, being disingenuous about who I am makes me deeply uncomfortable. I think it might be the result of having a lot of people pretend to be something they are/were not in my life, to one degree or another. It’s mostly awful to discover the truth, so it’s not something I ever want to do to anyone. This, I think, has extended to the Internet. Kind of weird, probably. Maybe a bit of an unconscious overreaction. But, obviously, I’m moving past that. This little exercise is harmless. There’s no way I’ll come across anyone I actually know, but if I did, I’d probably have to fess up. *sigh*

    I try to get the hell out of the house now and then. I live here, I work here, and that’s really not super-awesome for someone who’s already prone to reclusion. To be fair, when I leave the house, my human interaction is still pretty low — I avoid crowds whenever I can, even small ones. But, I’m working on it.

    Anyway, so we went to Trader Jack’s here in Pittsburgh. It’s open all year, but the outdoor stalls aren’t really set up yet — just a few. Plenty to look at inside though. I went specifically to find ephemera for collage purposes. I did not find anything that really tripped my trigger, but I did find some shit I did not need. Of course.

    A Russ Berrie button. I’ve seen ones with white backgrounds from 1987, but I’m not sure when the purple background came out. I’ve seen one for sale online for $50, which is hilarious. This is a keeper. My first impulse was to have a laugh at “partyer,” but now I’m not so sure I’m not the idiot. I don’t have time to do a deep dive (and yes, this is the type of shit I will spend a few hours on, which..yeah, I know). And I don’t have access to the OED (though I should, really), but it looks like the term “partier” has been around since 1910, and it seems that “partyer” is a variation, though I’m unsure as to why — is it simply a misspelling that dates back to early usage? Is it a British spelling? Eh? I don’t know. If you know, or have time for a deeper dive, or have access to the OED and would like to share your findings…please tell me.

    No date, but snagged it for nostalgia purposes. Oh, old Pittsburgh Station Square…Story Time: Across Smithfield street from Station Square, back in 1993, there was a seriously dilapidated mini-putt. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was called, but I worked there for a bit making probably less than the $4.25 minimum wage of the time. It was a real low-fi operation, all cash money, which was counted and locked in a small safety box, and stowed away under the floorboards of the shack at the end of every night. If you got too close to one of the hole displays, you might get hurt — all peeling paint, splintery death traps. But people came and I handed out little putters the size of walking canes. In fact, I stole one and took it home with me — I carried that thing around for a long time. I lived on the North Side, which was a bit shady, so I just carried it like a cane and had it in case I needed to defend myself. The closest I came to that was when I left Allegheny Commons Building 10 at about 3am to walk home, I was followed by some creep coming from Federal Street. I veered off the sidewalk unexpectedly and obliterated a snowman with it. When I turned around, the guy was gone.

    I don’t know why. Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat button from 1985. Not a keeper, but a plant. I will put this in my bag and when I find the perfect incongruous place to stash it, I will, and someone, maybe years from now, will find it and have a WTF moment, courtesy of me. This is how I spread joy.

    This is also how I spread joy…

    Some lucky, or unlucky, person I know will receive one of these for no discernible reason, except that I am slightly touched in the head. There are eight or nine, and I will keep one of them. They’re all over the place, and maybe I will do another post, because, they’re pretty great. None of them have dates, which is a shame, but they’re all old — ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, by my guess. This one is titled “Wolverine Ravaging Hunters Pack,” an Alaska Joe Original.

    “These animals are very destructive in their search for food and will rip and tear savagely at anything man-made which attracts their curiosity.”

    Well, holy shit, wolverine. Presumably, the hunter narrowly escaped.

    Finally, this New Orleans tourist photo booklet — looks like from the ’60s. I’ve never been to NOLA, but I when I see stuff like this (some documentation of a place before a time of general destruction that further eroded your idea of the world and how things worked), I feel the need to get it. Like, items with the Twin Towers pictured, that sort of thing. This was before anyone thought of Katrina and that complete shit show of a response. Something about it is very optimistic, and that’s nice. I miss that…optimism. How quaint.

    So, no collage ephemera, but we did happen upon a great stall for vinyl. But, again, probably good for another post — we found a bunch of cool stuff for a great price. It’s been a while since we bought some vinyl, but I’m warming back to it and it’s been on my mind lately. Anyone here from IG will know that I’ve been on a get-off-social-media and reintroduce-analog-back-into-my-life rampage since the end of 2023. Again, another post…

    Gudie Gumdrops, 2024.

    I know I’m not the only one who’s had a blog since, like 2005, in some form or another, but never really got regular with it. I think I know why, for me. Maybe.

    So, remember when blogging was just, you know, typing some shit out — some thought, maybe you even had a point — and then posting it? Maybe you thought people might read it and that was the goal. That’s it. “Likes” and whatnot. Maybe even a comment or two. That seemed like not a lot to expect way back then. And then, like everything else, it slowly (then rapidly) became this awful obligation tied to these algorithms, and you felt like you needed to push it, perhaps to monetize it, to build, build, build a readership, which, even if you got what seemed like a lot of “hits,” it didn’t really translate into real interaction, and certainly no money. It quietly morphed into a hustle, which, you know, fuck that.

    I’m guessing about the monetization shit — I never really tried that, because no one read/responded to anything anyway. Not in a way that made blogging feel worth it. And now I’m kind of wondering what I mean by “worth it.” Because I don’t think I knew then and I’m not sure I know now. Here’s something stupid I’ve discovered about myself lately: I’m not sure I want a lot of interaction on my blog. I actually don’t know. I know I’m frequently, and almost immediately, overwhelmed by online interaction, which is ridiculous. But I don’t think I used to be this way, and I’m not sure why I am now. My theory is this: I was good with that “old school” blogging, when there was no possible way to become a “popular” blogger, even if I wanted to. But blogging, as it stands today, and as it stands along with literally everything else online and in our lives in general, is entirely unattractive to me. So, maybe it’s not the interaction, but the expectation, both a reader’s and my own.

    Readers expect regular blogging and maybe some kind of personal interaction. The personal interaction — well, that’s only going to be so much and only go so far. If I’ve learned anything about myself over the last, say, 25 years, it’s that I’m not built for maintaining a lot of online conversation, both with folks I know in real life and complete strangers (but, I kinda have to give priority to people I actually know, right? Right? Right.) So, that’s where it is, how it is — it’s out of my hands, and I’m fine with that. I interact when/how I do, sometimes not at all. Anything forced will drive me screaming away from this space. As for regularity, well, that’s another thing completely dependent on my various mental and emotional whims that change from day to day, hour to hour, occasionally minute to minute. Not kidding. It’s something I have to accept, because many battles are being fought and I need to choose carefully.

    Two things about regular posting, the first is tied to the overall conception of the blog itself. So, a blog, I’m told, must have a theme. Okay. Once I have a theme, well now I need to post regularly about that theme. This, I cannot do. I just can’t. I have a variety of things I care about and I cycle through those things in no discernible pattern other than that I am indeed cycling. Try posting regularly about anything like that. Second is the “schedule.” Find a theme and schedule regular posting. Right.

    Are we done laughing yet? I’m not. That’s…funny. So, the moment I pick a theme, even a broad theme, I stop caring about that theme about two weeks in of posting once a week, probably because I’m now obligated to post about this theme once a week. Add an actual schedule to that — post on Tuesdays, say — I’m out. Right the fuck out. Not only do I don’t want to do it, I resent it. And then I resent myself for having obligated myself to do it.

    Try to monetize that shit. I will pause for more laughter.

    Now, why would I do any of this? Especially when monetization has never been a goal. Why on earth would I follow these perimeters when the destination is a place I have zero interest in going? I honestly have no idea. I think it was, in its nascent stages, merely the desire to write a thing and have someone read it, therefore, one must do what is done to make that happen. Hilarious how so many, many years can go by and you have no idea how you approached a thing, in the first place, in a way you yourself — if you knew yourself — would never do. It feels like getting blackout drunk on something you’d never drink and waking up beaten in an unknown city. I don’t want to do that. I didn’t in the first place, but that’s the fucking internet for you.

    So, I’ll give this another shot, and here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to post when I want about whatever I want to post about and that’s it. It’d be cool if someone read it, and it’d be cool if they commented, but honestly, it’d be a zillion times cooler if people would comment to each other on something I blathered on about. That actually isn’t a cop-out for me to simply not interact. I am far more interested in other peoples’ conversations than engaging in one myself. This is another new self-discovery. I am like this on social media (which I’ve cut back drastically). I am always happy to see responses, I’m not very good and keeping up with them, and I’m always most happy to see people interacting with each other on my post. Can’t really say why.

    And there we are, for now, because this seems long and I have to pee, and I don’t feel like doing an hour of editing before I hit “publish.” Expect my bullshit opinion about a bunch of stuff that I am not remotely qualified to speak on, because isn’t that what the internet is for? Expect cat pictures (also primary internet purpose). Expect some journaling-type posts — just things I’m doing, or did, or will possibly do. Expect posts about writing and writing projects. Expect art posts. Creative works in progress. Life updates. Me talking about absolutely nothing important, and, in fact, a lot of outright unimportant shit. No theme, no schedule, none of that soul-killing garbage, and let’s see how this goes. If I can eliminate everything I hate about blogging and the internet, maybe I will blog. And maybe I can keep in touch with some folks I’ve grow apart from on social media. That’d be cool.

    Well, my scheduled posts have long run out. If anyone’s actually following this blog, sorry about that. I’ve been super busy. I may have mentioned this a while ago, and I’m incredibly inconsistent, but I’m taking a long break from writing fiction and have dived into my first nonfiction project: a band biography of the Swiss tech-thrash band, Coroner. “Tech-thrash” might be the best overall description, but it’s more than that.

    So far, it’s been great, but a tremendous amount of work — much of the press is non-English, so everything has to be first transcribed and then translated. It’s very time consuming and doesn’t require a ton of thought. I spent 5-6 months doing that until we ran out, but just recently, three more folders have been located, so I’m gearing up to get back into that.

    It’s an unusual perspective to have — to look at all of these interviews, features, and album reviews that span about a decade, get them in chronological order, and see how the land had lain. Plus, all the shows/tours, the various releases — the studio albums, the singles, the video, etc. Not to mention keeping track of what was going on with their record label at any given time. It’s a big ol’ puzzle and a lot to line up. The text language barrier, frankly, is the most time-consuming part, but once I start really digging into the information, that’s when it begins to become slightly overwhelming. But…it will all come together, and bits and pieces are, so that’s encouraging.

    Two members are currently working on a new album, so contact is minimal, but what’s really pushing this forward is the engagement of the third, who is no longer an active member (though actively into his own excellent project). He photographs and sends each press piece, which is a massive amount of work on his part, and I would have little to work with otherwise. It also helps that he’s enthusiastic and uncommonly kind. I’ve found a lot of fanzine pieces on my own, but his efforts have absolutely quadrupled my reference material. At least. And I’m so, so grateful.

    I’ve also commenced actual Zoom interviews — well, one, with him (that helps!) — which is really very anxiety-inducing, as I’m usually pretty terrible with real-time human interaction. He made it very easy, and that’ll go a long way in making me more comfortable to move onto the rest (which is a lot).

    So, at this point, I’m still piecing everything together chronologically in order to get some kind of actual, workable outline together; will be returning to transcribing/translating more press; and moving forward with more interviews. Oh, and all the background reading apart from band-specific press. It’s a lot — I just took a week and minimized what I was doing every day just to get some headspace, which I should do now and then, but otherwise, it’s 5-6 days a week, 8-10 hours a day. I think I need to accept that this will take longer than assumed, which is fine, really. I just like to see progress. And I really do need to carve out my weekends — I’ve got plants coming to put in the ground. I’m all vaccinated and the weather is getting nicer — I should maybe think about seeing other human beings in person. And I need sunlight. Hahaa…

    One unrelated thing going on is this: A couple of years ago I bought this sweet-ass Iron Maiden Spitfire with the idea that my brother — who puts together military plane models in his spare time — would put it together for me. I finally dropped it off to him a few weeks ago and he’s super into it, which is great! The idea was to get it done and hang it in my office as 1) a commemoration of that tremendous 2019 show, where I finally got to see them live and the almost-scale Spitfire for Aces High blew my mind; and have a nice thing that my brother will have basically made. He’s going all out, doing Battle of Britain research — he’s actually changing up the bottom design to be more historically accurate, and he just suggested the other day to get a ME-109 Messerschmitt to create dogfight in my office (and so he can play around with various model-building techniques!), which I absolutely approved. So, eventually, I will have Eddie in his Maiden Spitfire taking out a Nazi flying above me while I work.

    Good times!

    Closet

    You didn’t think I made up Rupert and Shit Pail being trapped in an unlocked closet, did you?

    Amber Campbell and John Arwood spent two days trapped in an unlocked janitor’s closet at the Daytona State College’s Marine and Environmental Science Center. They entered the closet on Sunday and it wasn’t until Tuesday that Arwood decided to call 911. Police discovered there was not a functioning lock on the door when they arrived. Best part: Law enforcement found human feces and “suspected” drug paraphernalia, but no drugs. Where the drugs went is apparently a mystery, but presumably there were enough drugs to take two days to ingest. They were charged with trespassing. Arwood had a number of previous arrests and was keeping busy throughout 2019 with grand thefts, burglary, and assaults—he is listed as currently transient, though “on supervision.” Bonus Arwood Fact: His numerous tattoos include one described as “GROIN: 83, GODS GIFT.”

    Jauragui, Andres. “Florida Couple Spent Days in Unlocked Closet, Thought They Were Trapped: Cops.” HuffPost News. Verizon Media. January 2, 2015.

    That’s it! That’s the last one! Who’d have thought I’d have enough Florida Man Friday citations to last until the first week of March? Well, here we are, and now I need to come up with a new Friday post…dang…

    Read Florida Man: Battle of the Five Meth Labs: A Love Story here.

    buttdial

    Donna Knope, her son Jason Knope, and Thomas Stallings of Deltona were arrested for running a meth lab. They were busted when one of the three—it is unknown which—inadvertently butt-dialed 911 and police listened to them “talking about making and selling methamphetamine” for a half-an-hour. They also heard a “bubbling sound as if something was cooking.” It might be worth noting that the Knopes hadn’t been arrested prior nor since this incident, though Stallings had been on probation for a domestic battery arrest. Other career highlights include grand theft, burglary, and child injury/abuse. I’m going to go ahead and blame Stalling for the butt-dial.

    The Smoking Gun. “Cops: Pocket-Dial T0 911 Sinks Florida Trio Operating Meth Lab in Backyard Shed.” The Smoking Gun. TSG Industries, Inc. October 6, 2014.

    Read Florida Man: Battle of the Five Meth Labs: A Love Story here.