The Chaotic and Degrading Wasteland of Social Media
The worst part about being a “writer”—other than having to write—is the reality of self-promotion.
I hate self-promotion.
Unfortunately, some people have recently stressed to me—once again!—that without a concerted and sustained effort at self-promotion, I am doomed to obscurity. I know it’s true, but I still don’t like it. You see, I have this belief that if you create something good, you don’t need to promote it—that is, not aggressively. It should be sufficient to make people aware of what you’ve done, and where they can find it, and then leave them alone. If what you’ve done is good, it will promote itself. If what you’ve done is bad, people will ignore it.
None of these things are true, of course, but I still believe them. One could say I possess a faith in them which defies all reason.
Anyway, my friend Robert—the fellow who very effectively stressed the importance to me of promoting myself and my work, and who occasionally fucks my sister—has once again attempted to lure me away from my true faith and into the chaotic and degrading wasteland of social media.
So here I am, talking to you fine people.
And please, don’t get me wrong. I love talking to people, sometimes. And I love talking to you, most of the time. But self-promotion is not talking. In fact it’s mostly bullshit, and it usually consists of nothing more than another shrill and obnoxious voice demanding you fixate your attention on something that has no value; another attempt to convince you that something useless is of vital significance.
This bothers me, and I abhor the thought of joining in. If I’m good for anything, it’s at keeping things simple and clear, and avoiding the muddied waters of other peoples’ insanity. I have my own nonsense to worry about, and so do you. So does everybody. And if there is a cure for our constant, neurotic cycle of stimulus and response, I believe it must include a widespread decision on our part to purposely refrain from getting sucked up in it. To avoid the bullshit, in other words. And for God’s sake, don’t add any more to the pile.
As the man says: stay silent, or say something better than silence.
Anyway, that sounds good. But I’m still here, I guess. And I hope to be talking to you about my book, A Song I Could Not Sing, as it progresses.
I hope you can forgive me. And if not, feel free to tell Facebook about it; I’m sure you’ll find a sympathetic ear, as they say. Most likely, I’ll still be doomed to obscurity, even with my awkward attempts at self-promotion (whatever that actually includes), but I’m giving it a shot anyway. And in the event that one of my random and inherently meaningless posts becomes the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’ and pushes you over the edge into full-blown hysterical psychosis, please allow me to apologize in advance.
By the way, in addition to being a self-promotion guru, Robert is a successful and specialized Massage Therapist practitioner and instructor. If you would like to learn about his business (Robert Gardner Wellness) and his work, visit his Facebook page.