From the pub to the pulpit, the SubGenius must have Slack!
The criticism of my writings vary far and wide, while occurring frequently. Whether it is a denigration of my form, a dissatisfaction with my style or a disgust with the the ideas themselves, I am blessed with constant reminders that I am terrible at what I do. And while I welcome the unsolicited scorn with stiff arms, I often feel like I am being judged for a Nobel prize by the Wisconsin state champion bowling team. Not that I care about winning a Nobel prize, in fact, i’d rather go bowling.
Recently I wrote a little rant about The Boogeyman of Postmodernism. Upon sharing this piece at the Critical Theory subreddit, I was hammered by accusations of having written a fluff piece, not up to the official standards of anything or anyone, anywhere or anytime…for any reason, pal. No matter how many times I explained that these criticisms were based on values implied by modernist thinking, the very thing I was rejecting, I was told that I was wrong. It was impossible to explain this, even when I gave a clear example.
Your Bible logic is circular.
Where does it say that in the bible?
I admit that the metaphor was a bit uneven. Unlike modernists, Christians do not deny their beliefs are limited to their beliefs. Sorry for the comparison, Christians.
To be fair, it did make me examine my reluctance to submit to modernist redditor’s dogmas and win their approval and win at winning. Which I quickly decided, wisely, against. Then I had to think about why and how I became to be the kind of writer that is so easy to hate.
I blame “Bob.”
Even though I have have written about and discussed my Discordian proclivities on numerous occasions, I have yet to really inform my mostly disdainful audience of my even earlier SubGenius upbringings. And that influence, most likely, is the genesis of my evolution as the writer and thinker I am today.
A fellow artsy friend of mine brought me a copy of Revelation X when I was a junior in high school. I immediately fell in love with the fire and brimstone absurdism. I was still a pseudo-Christian, but the style of that book was so enticing that I was drawn into it enough to begin parsing out some of the philosophy from the obvious trolling. It did not crack the cement of my WASPishness quite yet, but it definitely planted the seeds for it to eventually happen.
A few years later I was drawn further in by Discordianism, Robert Anton Wilson and the quirkiness of Douglas Adams world of the Hitchhikers Guide. This is where I first began an earnest attempt at writing beyond lyrics, poetry and notebooks full of drug-addled one-liners. I began developing a writing voice full of absurdism, satire and quirky irreverence.
I spent the next decade and a half refining my style through fiction. Somewhere along the way social media gave me the opportunity to apply my schick to non-fiction subjects. Then in 2014 I started a website about the folly of scientific materialism and positivism. It was a short lived experience, but gave me a chance to once again explore the medium of proselytizing. Less than a year later I became a central member of CopBlock.org and spent the next few years fine-tuning a writing voice inspired by the fire and brimstone absurdism that The Church of the SubGenius had introduced me to twenty years earlier.
A year ago I was booted from Cop Block for going rogue against the alt-right faction within. At that time I had to take a look at myself, my thinking and my writing. Even though I had already been evolving away from outrage junkie chatter and low hanging hoots, I needed more distance. So I focused on my other writing projects and walked it down a bit. Eventually I even stopped writing for months. But then it became necessary to create this website so that I could save my material from pay schemes for myself and any potential audience.
That project inspired a writing renaissance which I am still engaged in. In rebuilding my site and ‘my brand’ I found that, while trying to not rely solely on a reactionary/outrage audience, I still fit in that cultural faction uncomfortably. Not because I have rage against the machine, but because I have complete irreverence for it.
The circumference of a dichotomy is zero degrees centipede.
I do not eschew academic formatting, parliamentary procedure, or any of those rule constructs because I want them to improve before I join. Just fuck them. Seriously.
I still write like a preacher, but also as a postmodernist. I eschew modernism and its WASP identity posturing so much that I have no qualms about dragging criticisms of western thought into the hyperbolic rhetoric of its ancestors. I have no rules. I write. You react. Suck it.
I am not giving you the tomato, I am cracking the cement and providing
seeds to plant in the cracks. Or not. The SubGenius Must have Slack!
No, but seriously. I do not give two professionally flattened fucks about your rules for meaningful and valid thought. I am not your fucking slave. I am a giddily voluntary scribe of “Bob” and The SubGenius MUST HAVE SLACK.
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