Not long ago I was sharing with my wife about how a business partner and I were quibbling about differences over our start-up media company. In a moment of clarity, I analogized the experience to a couple of kids in a tree fort, arguing about what to do when the dinosaurs came.
There’s a big difference between having real shit to deal with and having imaginary shit to deal with. At the same time, there’s something to be said for acting “as if” and sort of playing house as things start up. It can be a way to work out the kinks.
Having a blog is like this, too. Without an effective marketing strategy, with SEO and all of that, or without having a platform to begin with (readers that know you from something else), you’re posting stuff on the edge of the abyss. You are, as my one friend put it, “farting into the wind.”
But recently I started to look at it in another way.
There’s been a lot of talk over the past decade or more about the “Law of Attraction” and Drawing What You Want to Yourself Out of the Universe and all of that. Regardless of what you want to call it, and regardless of whether or not the science of quantum mechanics and the theological practices of religion ever finally reconcile and merge or stay instead on discrete, parallel paths, there’s something to all of this metaphysical mumbo jumbo. “Praying” is a shorthand way of describing this attempt at steering one’s life.
Prayer is also about thanks, of course, and communion. A blog can be that, too.
This all just popped up in my head today when I saw that one of my blogs was coming up for its annual dues. I boggled at the fact that I’ve had the blog for almost a year already. My plan had been, after creating it, to work on it for a while, show it to a few select people, and then, when the time was right, “launch it” to the world.
I guess I never did.
So here it is, the other blog, the other hat I wear when I’m not on here over-analyzing movies, philosophizing, coming down on the money-market system in what I hope are blistering tirades, or gushing over my children.