Why subscribe?

I mean, really, why? This Substack just duplicates my existing blog, which is…after more than twenty years…still chugging along over at Blogger. That’s all this does. I’d be fine with you just subscribing there via RSS.

But maybe you don’t have an old-school Real Simple Syndication Feedreader. Maybe you’d prefer to get every post via email.

If that’s so, well, here ya go. My intent is to have that email arrive, informing you that I’ve burped out a new thought. It’ll have a link that takes you directly to my real blog, which this isn’t. So you click on the link, and…boom…you’re not going to be here.

So I’m Substacking, without ever requiring you to go to set virtual foot on Substack. That’s not their business model, I’ll admit. That business model is all about me monetizing your reading of my work, and then taking a percentage. Speaking of which…

How much will this cost, you say?

The blogging? Nothing. Not a danged thing. I’m an old school blogger, stubbornly so. Web-logs, back in tha day, were a way of journalling publicly, of sharing your thoughts with the world. Not “thoughts microtargeted to maximize your blogging ROI.” Not “building and reinforcing your brand identity." It had nothing to do with income. Instead, it was whatever you happened to be thinking about, or want to write about. I like that. That feels free, and human, as much of the pre-enshittification internet felt.

So I write about my faith, and about politics, and about anything I want. Sometimes, you’ll get poems. Sometimes, reflections on gardening or life in general. Or things my dog did that amuse me. If that’s interesting to you, cool.

If you’d like to dive in to my storytelling, take a look at the Sloppy Beta Books section of this Substack. There you’ll find short stories and novel manuscripts that haven’t received any love from publishers, and that I share simply because I like them.

Read at your leisure, and with my gratitude for your engagement.

Me, Blowing Up Your Inbox

“Never miss an update—every new post is sent directly to your email inbox.” So reads the boilerplate. Is that too much? It feels like too much. Man, I hope you don’t get tired of it. I mean, me, up in your face, every single time I post, which is a fair amount. It sounds faintly annoying. It would be for me.

If You Want to Talk to the Manager.

I don’t have a comments section. Comments are where decency and kindness go to die, where we treat others like objects and parrot the memed thoughts that have replaced our own personhood, where we posture and preen for all the world to see. Y’all gonna start getting into it if I have comments, and this is is my house. So. No comments for you.

That said, maybe you want to tell me something. Maybe something stirred you, or annoyed you so much you’re in high dudgeon. Maybe you just want to chat. If so, you can follow this link to my primary blog. Pan down. Near the bottom, in the penultimate paragraph, there’s an email address hidden in the text. My email. Feel free to reach out.

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