This is the first thing I ever posted to this blog and that was four years and three days ago.
Which is a fairly long time. Blogs are like companion animals in that you have to feed and look after them and generally give a shit if you want them to live, though it's hard to decide what constitutes a vital sign.
Is it the size of your audience? I get, on average, about a thousand looks a day; I think my biggest day was over three thousand. That feels sort of alright for an non-promoted, noncommercial site that won't fuck for clicks, but whatever; maybe it's pathetic and all the cool people on snapchat have trilliony billions of views and this blog is a sad little bitch sitting at home licking the last ice-cream off the lid because nobody loves it. You decide. The only time I was ever particularly surprised or chuffed by my figures was back when R proudly announced at I'd had fifty clicks a day for a whole week. I still think of it in allegories like the whole open mike night in a shitty club thing- you'd be happy and in all honesty stoked to the tits with fifty people not leaving and even making the effort to look up from burning their names into the tables with their cigarettes or privately reviling their companions.
Which is a fairly long time. Blogs are like companion animals in that you have to feed and look after them and generally give a shit if you want them to live, though it's hard to decide what constitutes a vital sign.
Is it the size of your audience? I get, on average, about a thousand looks a day; I think my biggest day was over three thousand. That feels sort of alright for an non-promoted, noncommercial site that won't fuck for clicks, but whatever; maybe it's pathetic and all the cool people on snapchat have trilliony billions of views and this blog is a sad little bitch sitting at home licking the last ice-cream off the lid because nobody loves it. You decide. The only time I was ever particularly surprised or chuffed by my figures was back when R proudly announced at I'd had fifty clicks a day for a whole week. I still think of it in allegories like the whole open mike night in a shitty club thing- you'd be happy and in all honesty stoked to the tits with fifty people not leaving and even making the effort to look up from burning their names into the tables with their cigarettes or privately reviling their companions.
| As for the future, your guess is as good as mine, constant readers. We started this thing in what felt like a ghostly prelude to the skanky juices that have hit the fan now. The unpopular theory about depressives just being more attuned than your average flesh unit to the smoke from social and environmental rubbish fires looks a little less nutty these days, doesn't it? Not that everyone finally seeing the tyres burning in the darkest heart of the landfill feels prescient or vindicatory. It doesn't. I feel... nothing, really. Perhaps not nothing; more like a strange, vacated calm. It was interesting to see, at a very large extended family gathering a little while back, how sort of stunned and subdued a lot of formerly loudly oblivious types had become. They were quieter. Drinking less. Listening, even. There's less judgement toward outliers from their densely conventional nexus since it has taken such a structural battering. I think the world has really bitten a lot of previously insulated people hard on the arse for the first time. How does that feel, I wonder? Depressives spend their whole fucking lives trying to adapt to the pendulous bodyweight of inky disaster; it's not news to us. Maybe someone should put us in charge. |  |
Blogularly, the impact of net neutrality circling the drain in the US looms large. Of course it's repulsive corporate piracy and will possibly relegate sites like this to cobwebby oblivion. But both R and I view this site as more than just a flea market table for our most presentable ideations; sharing knowledge and observations is a responsibility that falls to the people who have the time and ability to do so, and we take that seriously, given the cesspit of stinky mental garbage we're all forced to wade through online. Neither of us would have made it this far into our lives without all the many people who have cared enough to share their private commonalities, both homely and exotic, and shit they learned to do the hard way, whether through music, text or visuals.
The internet should not be the exclusive domain of ratchet narcissists, neckless racists (who should study that familial group shot in good light before wanking on about endogamy) and unsavoury Youtube cat maniacs (it does something cute, or it gets the hose again). We might be a wee bit ratchet, somewhat neckless and quite unsavoury, but we don't trowel our eyebrows on in the morning*, fuck our cousins** or pimp our associate animals for likes***.
The Blackthorn Orphans. Dripping homemade syrup on a world of shit since 2013. It's black so it might not show up very well, but we hope you can taste it.
* any more
** to the best of our knowledge
*** Felix is all like say my name, bitch. It's his idea.
The internet should not be the exclusive domain of ratchet narcissists, neckless racists (who should study that familial group shot in good light before wanking on about endogamy) and unsavoury Youtube cat maniacs (it does something cute, or it gets the hose again). We might be a wee bit ratchet, somewhat neckless and quite unsavoury, but we don't trowel our eyebrows on in the morning*, fuck our cousins** or pimp our associate animals for likes***.
The Blackthorn Orphans. Dripping homemade syrup on a world of shit since 2013. It's black so it might not show up very well, but we hope you can taste it.
* any more
** to the best of our knowledge
*** Felix is all like say my name, bitch. It's his idea.
Still love this album. And this is the perfect version of this song only it has to be a lot louder than your device will probably allow.
Nasty nostalgia ne plus ultra. Inspiration, going forward.
Nasty nostalgia ne plus ultra. Inspiration, going forward.
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