I suppose it’s in my blood and genes to do the same thing the same way for only so long.
Substantially before I began blogging about Paleo stuff, the whole saturated fat and cholesterol wars, dissing vegans and whatever else I could think of that interested me enough to write a bit about, I still blogged about lifestyle and “thoughtstyle,” in various ways, and always from the perspective of someone who’s self directed and loves to tell hand-wavers to just to go fuck themselves.
I woke up around 4 a.m. last night wondering two things. What is it in this that truly differentiates me from others? Well, perhaps in the general sphere, only my style, if that, even. In the Paleosphere, I think I’ve been around long enough to know and understand that it’s now pathetically hopeless (for me, doing as I do). You have 90% of “CAVEMEN!!!” basically being followers of dogma and narratives being exploited for profit by those clever enough to keep the narratives tight and trademarked.
…You even have monkey wenches out there waving hands over stuff—like resistant starch, raw potato starch—that has the support of thousands of positive anecdotes on this blog. Nope, the vicious wench will ask you for tests, “find something,” tell you it’s the potato starch, and take your money to “fix” you when you were already doing just fine, even better than before. That’s evil. Of course, such things come with the ever-enthusiastic Jimmy on the Spot podcaster to mainstream the confirming bullshit.
Nothing to do with that shit, for me. It used to be a frontier and I loved the livin’ fuck out of it. Now it’s a storefront and ad banners galore. My guess is that the preponderance of the independent minded got what they needed—and I’ve always touted my place as a revolving door in that regard—and moved on. It’s difficult to fault anyone for that. The very last thing I would do is wave hands at them. I’d rather swat them on the fanny and wish them the best of best, under their own exclusive authority, along with an admonition to slit the throats of anyone who ever stands in their way.
I’m not about “empowerment.” I hate that fucking leftist bullshit meme. I’m about telling everyone else to fuck off. Pretty much. The world is awash with swarms and hives telling or strongly suggesting to you, what to do, and it cripples people, because they become unsure of themselves often enough for it to be too often. If I have done anything great in these years, it has been to encourage people to venture out, take some risks, experiment for themselves, and figure out what it is that works best for them…and don’t give a damn runny shit what anyone else “thinks” about it.
That so very many believe someone needs to tell them what to do is the fundamental core of the problem, and I submit to you that “Paleo” is basically on that same track now, in far too many ways. It was supposed to be a template; not a dependency scheme that bears little distinction from your typical church & state shenanigans, looking for parishioners and voters, always with eyes focussed upward, longingly waiting to be told what to do. Paleo? They’re always looking for customers, and the next product you need is just around the corner. Keep looking up.
…The second thing I thought of in the wee hours was more concrete. I actually laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of this, April 11, 2011:
That was were I and Harvey “Durianrider” Johnstone just went head to head in a live debate, choreographed as a boxing match by Steve Prussack (who did a great, pro job), 1,000 people listened live on phone lines which was a limit, another bunch—I don’t know how many—live streaming, and Steve sold the audio package and transcript and later PayPaled Harvey & I about $280 each as cut after all expenses, if I recall correctly.
And you know what? It came about because Mr. 30-Bannanas-A-Day issued me a challenge one evening as I was sitting on iPad. A couple of other challenges he issued had gone rejected or unanswered, and I accepted without literally a second thought. Guess others had to “staff” it, and such. I have no regrets about it, even though I got hand waving from others.
Perhaps it was then where I began to think that vegans aren’t maybe so bad after all—though if they would get in as least as much animal protein as ruminants do by accident (ever see a dear eat a rabbit), it would probably all be cool. Or not.
But at least it was out there, raw, we made a few bucks, but it was honest. Everybody gets to decide for themselves, no commercial interruptions, nothing much to buy, except to buy-into any range of ideas a-la-carte you like.
For the immediate, I’ve changed up my banner, format, and tag line a bit. Yes, that’s me flyin’, there. We’ll see how it all unfolds. Probably it’ll be a lot like it has been except with a theme up top that for me, more closely figures what exactly it is I’m trying to be up to and perhaps, also provides me with a guide to both keep me on track and suggest ideas.