I used to think that if I shared enough challenging ideas in blog posts, wrote a few whacked-out books, and continued to parlay my subversive thoughts into a unique brand I could call my own, that, eventually, the Interwebs would connect me with enough outliers to somehow fund my goal of never having to work a slave-job again.
Holy fuck, was I ever wrong!
Although WordPress and HostHero still permit this website to function, and Amazon still technically “sells” my books to this day, I’ve never been more shadow-banned since sharing my stupidest Daily Bread pun about the ability of Bubba Wallace to cast a dark shadow upon his garage-door opener.
Right now, the AI algorithm really, REALLY, hates any buzzwords stinging the official Mein Stream Narrative.
Oh shit, did I accidentally type Mein? Fuck!
At this point, I can’t even say for certain my “Subscribers” even receive my daily notes or posts. But I remember having a conversation with a Byzantine medic I worked with many moons ago during the war – let’s call him Doctor Z.
My holistic friend made an observation I was blind to at the time:
“Dude, you’re doing this to sort shit out in your own brain — fuck praise, fuck notoriety, fuck dollars. Just do what you wanna do.”
Buddy died in a concentration camp years later, but his/her/them message has been etched in my brain, (despite the processed food and rampant alcohol consumption causing the constant misfiring of my/his/her neurons).
Fucking right, Doc Z!
What the fuck else do I have left to do in this insane asylum except be true to myself???
And therein lies our question…
What is true?
What is belief?
What is emotion?
What is Purpose?
What the fuck is 5% spandex?
Being the not-too-bright human I am, if I’m able to discern “reality” conundrums in my feeble brain, I’m pretty sure most of humanity can as well.
Can’t we just get our shit together already, and have some fun again?
“Newton, get my sword.”
“Where is it Herc? Where is it Herc???”
It’s always in the same fucking tree beside you. Pay attention you stupid fucking centaur.