The Final One

This is the Final One, and I'll make it short.

Unless a bug crawls up my ass, and said bug has literary ambition, I failed this years Nanowrimo. I could get very moody on you, maybe weep a little and then bust out the inspirational, and graphic language.

Meh; fuck it, right dudes?

Not that I'm saying “Fuck it” to writing; that's still fun. The point is to have fun. It's like music; you have to practice, and love it. You can practice and not love it, but shit, where's the point?

The point, in the case of practice minus love, is a three dollar hooker with a wart on its nose and its thumb up its butt; it exists, oh yeah, but you don't want to get anywhere near it.

What's next then? I'll tell you what's next: podcasts. One thing I learned is that if you do this type of shit, you do it seriously; as seriously as going to work every day. The difference being that you go to work for money; you do this (whatever “this” is; creative-stuff) because you love it. I love writing, but I don't give two fucks about writing a novel (a fuck is roughly equivalent to 22.3 American cents, which is probably the reason they're not widely circulated). I love radio, and after listening to a bunch of shows on the internet, finding ways to record, store, and broadcast free music (and, hopefully, help out some artists at the same time) I've decided to launch my own podcast, with music and all, hopefully by next week. I need to learn a lot, and I do intend to take it as seriously as a job.

But being on radio is a lot of fun, even if only a few are listening. I tried it at Wabash, and although laziness overcame me there (plus a hella lack of music at times), I'm going to see this through for at least a month, and a minimum of four podcasts. If I like it, if you like it, if it's got a good beat and we all dance to it, I'll continue.

Also, the name of the site will be changing.

Late facts: Demolition Man, while a terrible movie, is an awesome movie.