Recently I got a response to my previous post asking me when I’m going to return to blogging. I decided to make a short post about blogging and why I don’t do much of it anymore.
Probably the biggest thing is that I just don’t have time. Between playing, practicing and composing music, working out, reading books and working one full time job and a weekend side job, I just really don’t have time to spend crafting posts and responding to them. Add to that when I do read and reply on other’s blogs now, I’m often dismayed by the level of the commentariat. Stupid, misinformed, tasteless and dull, and, worst of all, prone to rhetorical hysteria (I should like to kick anyone in the balls who says “that’s shaming language”). Before a person could talk about Hobbes and Origen and many would understand you, now the biggest metaphors in the sphere are caged from a crappy 90s cyberpunk movie with dollar store Gnostic themes and plot holes you could drive a truck through. For God’s sake, couldn’t we have at least used “Jacob’s Ladder” as our rallying point? That one at least wasn’t an ineffably stupid CGI-driven blockbuster.
The other big thing is that what I really want to write is creative. I’ve tried pretty recently to craft a series of installments for an eventual short novel for submission to In Mala Fide, but have been stymied by my lack of time, and endless rewrites. I’m not much of a churner, and blogging is more akin to journalism and pulp fiction than the style of writing I’m most accustomed to. I’m an anal perfectionist with an overfull plate.
Lastly, I’m not anonymous. That’s a pretty big thing. While my close friends and family know I’m some strange flavor of reactionary, I’d rather not let employers, potential employers and the general public know. Given that I’m a disdainful, touchy, arrogant and often verbally abusive poster with a tendency for personal grudges (see the above), it’s really risky to try to build a significant online profile. Sooner or later I’ll piss someone off enough they’ll spend the time finding out who I work for, and will cause me real life grief. As for going anonymous, it’s too late now, the cows have already left that particular barn.
Despite all that, I’m not leaving, I’m not closing shop. I’d love to post more, but until I can think of a way to talk about HBD stuff safely or decide what direction to go with the fiction, or win the lottery and no longer have to spend 50 hours a week working at something, I’m probably not going to be here much, and sad to say, there are probably more people who think “Good riddence!” rather than “Aw shucks.” (note, that isn’t a plea for sympathy, just a notation that I’ve annoyed more people than entertained in the alt-right sphere),