Daily Archives: January 30, 2012

Don’t Kid Yourself

“The L.A. Times outlines a few popular scams used to squeeze money out of unsuspecting consumers during this time of year, one of which is the Romance Scam. Lonely hearts on the Internet find a potential love match on a dating or social networking sites, and said object of affection asks for money to travel to meet their heart’s content in the flesh.” {From: Even If You’re Lonely This Valentine’s Day, Don’t Fall For A Romance Scam – The Consumerist.}

You can save yourself a ton of money by avoiding scams if you’d just accept that nobody is ever going to love you. Actually, you can also save yourself a ton of money by avoiding romance even if somebody out there is capable of loving you. Probably more!

Waiting For The Death Of The Death Of Books

I would be so happy if I never read another article about books versus ebooks and the future of publishing ever again. Firstly, what’s left to say? Things are changing, but they’re doing it slowly; until there is some new information to report, what is the point of rehashing what’s already been said every time someone decides, for whatever reason, to run their mouth on the topic?

Another thing: Can we at least agree that it is highly disingenuous for people with a vested interest in one format or another to pretend that they are each the clear-eyed, objective thinker that everybody should be listening to? Look, this is a controversial issue with a direct impact on your financial situation: It’s actually okay to admit to having a self-interested point of view. Anger at the 1% notwithstanding, the days when everyone would think you were an asshole for just wanting to make a living are over.

Now, a more general annoyance: Not that they get into it in the linked article, but something that is often implied when traditional publishing people talk about the “death of books” is that there exists a pack of slavering monsters whose sole purpose and goal is to destroy traditional publishing. I don’t know everything about everything, but in all my travels, I have yet to come across more than one or two examples of that at best–I mean aside from the ULA (remember them?).

I’m beginning to doubt the existence of this ravenous horde. I think that some defenders of traditional publishing are assigning ravenous intentions to people who may not warrant the label. I think that anyone who tries to make money with ebooks outside of the traditional publishing establishment is imputed by some to be a kind of club-swinging Visigoth regardless of their attitude towards traditional publishing.

I suspect, however, that these Visigoths (oh, let’s just stick with that for now) are less like, “We must destroy old publishing!” but rather more like, “Here’s a business opportunity that I can exploit, and while I’m doing that, I may not try very hard to protect the business models of the established cadre of publishing companies.”

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Neither do you. Neither do the people who keep writing (and being quoted in) these articles. I’d love for everyone on both sides to wind up rich, happy, and widely read. But we don’t know what’ll happen. The future is horrible in that way.

Look, I can’t tell anybody what they should or shouldn’t write. I will however, be happy to mention what I’m not willing to read–not that anybody gives a damn, which is exactly right. For god’s sake, don’t listen to me. I’m a goddamn idiot.

But maybe think about not simply repeating the same information over, and over, and over again just because someone famous piped up about it, please?

In The Future, You Never Even Existed

This post from John Scalzi focuses pretty solidly on something that I myself have been trying to find a way to talk about for a long time: Impermanence. Seriously, if you can’t think of how to say something, there’s no shame in waiting for a professional writer to come along and say it–you may have to wait an exceedingly long time, but that’s a small price to pay for not having to do any real work.

(Though, I must say, for a more succinct analysis of this phenomenon, I refer you to Mister Robyn Hitchcock. Time will destroy you.)

Maybe it’s a good thing, not to be remembered for one’s individual achievements. After all, when the future looks back at the past, it’s often with an eye that sees the old society as foolish at best, or monstrously immoral at worst. Are you sure you want your name associated with that?

Imagine a future when Veganism is the dominant ideology and guiding principle of society. Do you want the world of the future to look upon your visage and spit, to utter your name as a curse, and repeat, over and over in a ritual chant, “This man ate bacon! And he was proud of it!”