This Carbon Based Life

The time has come,’ the Walrus said,

      To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

      Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

      And whether pigs have wings.’ – Lewis Carroll

I have been a little spotty of late in my performance. I’ll attribute it to health problems, mental health problems. If I had said a kidney stone, you wouldn’t think twice about it. Ah, but mental health is different, isn’t it? Nothing too serious, just my nineteenth nervous breakdown.

The realization and associated conditions of my age give a depressing forecast. The fact I must face them alone, without the love of my life drains the color from life. Becoming a black and white world of wake up, eat, go to the bathroom, go to bed and repeat as necessary until the final day.

Logically, I should have accepted her death by now. My brain has accepted it, but my heart isn’t all that logical. We started this blog together as joint project between us. This Carbon-Based Life and This Carbon-Based Music.

Nearly a half a million organic views, as in, not paid for. 40,000 Facebook likes, 5.5K Facebook shares. 2K Twitter shares and I’m not even on Twitter.

I was pushing three thousand reads a month when Facebook throttled me. The want me to pay them for what you get for free. They want me to pay them to allow my post to remain viable. The last offer was $28.00 for 765 readers. Only, I have tried it before and it has never once delivered more than half of the reads promised. So, let’s do the math $28 per day against an annual revenue of $100 dollars.

Obviously, that won’t work. Something has to change and it’s all my fault. My anxiety is PTSD based from once being homeless. One thing I would not do is beg. I wouldn’t ever get a pathetic looking cardboard sign and beg on the street corner. My Socialist leanings make me askew the Capitalist mantra of gold, silver, or platinum memberships. It’s absolutely wrong to ask people to pay for what you’re going to say anyway. This belief is reinforced by no one wanting to hire me. Believe me it’s humbling.

But at bedrock, I know they’re wrong, because of you guys. There’s way too many of you for this to be some kind of fluke. I’m humbled but find it difficult to ask for money, especially from my friends. But I ask myself, if the blog does this well without adequate funding, how well would it do if funded?

Using the Tucker Carlson model, I borrow $2,000,000 from “Friends” with a ski on the end of their names and Moscow zip codes and I start my blog. Then my staff arranges advertising deals. Oh wait, I have no staff, and I’m not particularly good at all this Internet bullshit.

WordPress screwed up my website, but like all software salesmen blamed it on me. I did it! When they added all of their AI crap to the page the box to check to keep my posts in consecutive order somehow disappeared. But I did it! So, the premium WordPress will be gone with only a legacy page left behind.

I’m also planning to branch the stories out as the Trump monster fades slowly into the east. One burning question, do people really rent out their kids’ bedroom to strangers? I mean if I were an axe murder on the FBI most wanted list. I would probably avoid the Holiday Inn and look for a Clark Griswold type trying to pick up a few extra bucks off the Internet.

I’m thinking maybe some sort of voluntary model but not like Wikipedia where they guilt trip the shit out you like your mother would. “You’ve been here 28 times! Ya fucking dead beat!” When we call it the free encyclopedia, do you honestly think we mean it?

There is a film about Vincent Van Gogh called “At Eternities Gate.” Much of the dialog was taken from Vincent’s letters to his brother. Vincent explains when he painted, he felt normal and could keep his demons at bay. I really can relate to that. When I write it’s the only time, I ever feel comfortable. And when I finish, I’m never fully satisfied. A clear and moral lesson not to let your children ever become writers. It’s like Heroin without the buzz, just the horrible addiction.

I comfort myself by saying they want college interns with a bright smile and a dark fear of saying no to the boss. I’m neither fish nor fowl. Too funny for straight news and too straight for comedy sites. And it’s all stream of consciousness every day. All original outside the box and undefinable. Maybe with some small worth.

So, changes are coming soon, don’t be surprised or afraid.

And Thank You all!

“You have to make your own sound. You’ll never make it trying to sound like someone else.” – John Lennon