Jun. 15th, 2017

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In my heyday, when I worked for Time Warner and ICM (then one of the largest entertainment agencies in the world), I was something of a marketing genius.

I thought outside the box. And I was up on all the latest technologies.

I haven’t done anything vaguely promotional in decades, and it’s a point of honor with me to ignore as many of the latest technologies as possible. Technologies come; they hover in the cultural imagination briefly, beating their wings like dying mayflies. And then they disappear.

That’s the current cycle.

One imagines that some day – maybe soon – this mad technological acceleration will stop. But I think it will keep going so long as supplier-induced demand (i.e. marketing) continues to be a force.

Boy Genius and Peter Thiel – bestest pals in real life, it turns out – both think the Civil War is coming. Boy Genius even has a timeline: 99 months.

I hate it when current events give credence to Boy Genius’s wacky theories. Like when BernieBros lose it bigtime at Republican baseball games. But then, why should Islamic terrorist get to have all the fun, right?

Anyway, I still think outside the box.


I bring this up because four people in the past few weeks have asked, “So! Do you have a Patreon account?”

And me being me, and having this weird point-of-honor thing about making art in obscurity because it’s purer to be exploited by Da Man (ri-i-i-ght…) then to coax people to pay for stuff you like to do, instead of answering, “Of course! Give me money! I’ll email you the particulars!” and scampering off to create a Patreon account, I merely answered, “Nah.”

Maybe I sighed.

Then yesterday, [personal profile] sulphuroxide and I had a long conversation about insta-celebrity. About repackaging me as an insta-celebrity.

“They make money!” [personal profile] sulphuroxide pointed out. “And lots of people out there would be willing to support you. It’s better than working for the Scut Factory!”

Ya think?

Of course, I’m absolutely the wrong demographic for insta-celebrity being 65 years old and all. Although one could argue that merely represents an unexploited niche!

And I am excessively charming in – ha, ha, ha – real life. Charismatic even. At least, when I’m not in one of my isolationist funks. I also have this bizarre drawling voice that makes it seem as though I’m imparting hot gossip even when I’m discussing Nietzsche.

Anyway. Something to think about.

I have approximately 400 pages of two highly entertaining novels on my hard drive.

It’s pretty obvious that the old publication models – snag the agent, snag the book contract – are obsolete.

Even if I didn’t go the YouTube star route, there should be some way I can do something with those.

No, not epublishing and pimping on Amazon: While it’s true that a few people (most notably the Fifty Shades of Gray writer) have used self-publishing as an avenue to success, for the most part, all self-publishing does is add dollars to Jeff Bezos’s swelling coffers.

Something more… interactive.

I’ll have to give the matter more thought. Outside the box, of course.


In other news, here’s what 60s femme fatale Anita Pallenberg looked like just before her recent death:


And here's what she looked like in her ravishing youth:


They are dropping like flies, those cultural icons of my long-ago, misspent youth.


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