Jack White -Love Interruption
So this is my de facto 200th blog post. I call it “de facto” because my foray into this here blogging stuff started on Tuesday, March 29th 2005 when I sat down at my desk buried deep within the law library of the firm that I worked for, opened my Hotmail account, composed an e-mail with the subject line “Random Thoughts: Yes, it’s a slow day at the job”. I added a bunch of friends and family into the address line and clicked the send button. I did 20 or so of these e-mail and they don’t officially count for jack but I think they were still important because I put a bunch of crazy into the world and no one who received one of these e-mails didn’t try to have me sent to the booby hatch.
After I found out about this magical thing called MySpace I messed around posting on that cesspit then decided to create a free standing blog called The Woods through blogger. (Which I abhor. Blogger not the Woods.) After some really, really horrid and uninspired posts, a lot of writer’s block, and a bout of depression or two I found myself giving the world a poorly written dose of “meh” every time I hit the “Publish” button. I did learn something new each time and the journey to old # 2 hunnid has been interesting. If you do over 200 times and come away with no new lessons or reflections then you are by definition insane.
Here are my lessons and reflections of a man who has punched the “Publish” button approximately 200 times.
Anyone who fancies themselves a writer, blogger, artist, or any kind of creative type must learn to both embrace and control the vanity and arrogance that comes along with it. There is an inherent level of both that is need to be any good at this. Not saying I’m any damn good at this but the idea that anyone actually gives a damn about what you write about is based in flat-out, pure-d-arrogance. Use it but do not let it define you.
You’d be surprised at which posts resonate the most with the folks who follow or stumble into your URL. I would have never guessed a post about a black infantryman from World War II whipping out his jammy and flat-blasting some Germans would be my most successful post.
Just because someone happens to be in the same demographic as you has no bearing on them agreeing with you. Black folks who read aren’t nearly as monolithic as advertised. Yes, there are more than a few givens but not enough to paint with a broad brush.
I’ve come into contact and became fans of some interesting e-people through this. I’m entertained often by the blogs of others and the comment sections that come attached to the blogs. It’s like a sick little e-community of people who read too much and watch football. It’s too many of y’all to name but you f**ks know who you are.
Never, ever, ever, ever write anything just for the sake of clicks. In my mind this is the equivalent of Nas making a song like “Oochie Wally” just to sell records and then have the nerve to get mad at his critics. Hey, it is possible to go big and go good simultaneously.
When writing, you CANNOT worry about people thinking you are “crazy”. If this is your case take the advice of Phonte Coleman and find a new problem. This is absolutely the wrong thing to stress over.
Speaking of mental issues, writing is therapeutic as motherf***er. Understanding the mess between your own ears gets a lot easier if you put it down and re-read it several hundred times. You would be amazed at how many dark spots I’ve pulled out of because of this foolishness.
And speaking of the word “motherf***er”. I say use it and use it often. For me using “motherf***er” is like have “Southern Girl” by Frankie Beverly and Maze shuffle through your playlist. It never gets old… Never.
Tone is important as hell. Without the correct tone you are just pounding keys. If yours isn’t correct then check it.
The moment my first non-spam comment was posted I acted like Lucy van Pelt when she copped a nickel at her Psychiatric Help stand. This goes back to my first point about the vanity of this is. There is a place for blogs that you don’t want feedback on—your journal. If you didn’t want anyone to say anything you should’ve kept it to yourself.
I don’t write about comic books enough. They help me blow off steam.
As a tool of self-reflection a blog is handy. I’ve had more than a few “Wow, I sounded like a douche bag” moments. Not that I’m saying that I’m a complete douche bag but I have my moments of douchebaggery. Being a douche and knowing it is slightly (Just slightly.) better than being a douche bag and not having a clue. *hums “Man in The Mirror”*
I’ve realized that there is only one topic that I will never for sure blog about. That’s relationships.
Mostly because I don’t care about the romantic happenings of others… Not that I’m a misanthrope or anything but the moment I mete out some advice to someone puts me one step closer to wearing a six-buttoned suit and doing stand up in front of a bunch of church folks. For real though I think it’s just a minefield. A never ending minefield that escaping will sap every ounce of your energy and will to live. To me it’s the blogging equivalent to arguing with a Laker fan who loves Tupac about the Lakers and Tupac.
I’ve never posted a blog that I’ve regretted. I have however thought long and hard about hitting “Publish” a few times. I went with my gut and wrote it like I felt it.
The only post that I’ve done that I regretted not posting was an obituary for Omar Little. I can’t remember why I didn’t go through with it but the awesomeness that is Omar “f**king” Little can’t be written about enough. “Sweet Jesus, I’ma work ‘em!”
The fact that I’ve been working on this post for about three weeks tells me a lot. I’m hoping to become somewhat of a perfectionist. Bad grammar and all. The time it takes me to post means that I just want to get it right.
I’m just going to stop right here because this could go on for some time and y’all don’t have that kind to listen to me blather on about lessons and what not. Thanks to y’all who put up with me and my madness. I appreciate you for it. Keep it up and I promise to throw like a kick-a** party with fried chicken and ice cream.
Vaya con Dios.