According to WordPress, I should start this post with a paragraph, “the building block of all narrative.” So here, this one’s on me. A hot dispatch from the epicenter of fear and loathing in Trump’s America. Amazon is sold out of hand sanitizer as a mysterious Chinese flu levels whole cruise ships of terrified civilians. My eye doctor informed me last week that blue light glasses are not, in fact, a scam. So I’m wearing them while I write this. Philip K. Dick could never.
I used to be a professional Algorithm Tricker. My job was to wallpaper the hallowed halls of Google with content nobody would read, jury rig code with bot massaging honey traps, and bury CTAs in places even the savviest decision maker wouldn’t see them coming. I helped people juice their audio and video embeds to get maximum downloads, and started dumpster fires on social media to get the casual onlookers clicking.
I quit that shit to bartend and write novels, but I have not been able to give up on the internet for good. The money was much better in my old racket, sure, but somehow my soul feels more intact slinging rail liquor for construction workers and keeping collegiate hours as I slouch ambivalently into middle age.
And so, as a recovering slinger of “content” (roflcopter) I will not optimize shit on this site. And I won’t market my real life artwork here, either. I might post some photos of my origami, but that’s not my art, that is the hobby I do while I’m praying for the end of the world to be gentle to the innocent.
Consider this blog the AM radio of digital media. It exists for people who are awake at 4 AM and miss Art Bell.
(I’ll probably get flustered and delete it in a few weeks anyhow.)
The general categories:
Flotsam: shipwrecks. The detritus of drafts that didn’t gel. The feeble attempts at writing that turned into a shoebox full of “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy” typed over and over and over and over.
Jetsam: things tossed overboard to prevent sinking. Things I actually thought about, sort of, before composing. Probably a lot of bullshit thoughts about film?
Inspirado: just what it fucking sounds like. Fuel to go out and make something cool before the planet melts.
Stay tuned, I guess.