I’m not sure what the point of blogging is anymore. For a while, I knew, then it changed and I knew again, then it changed again. Early on, I saw blogging as pointless public journaling online. That’s what it was. That was fine. At the beginning, this blog (under a couple of different names) was for one thing – building an audience for my books and selling books. As I started selling more books (fuknbooks.com) the blog became more generalized and less focused on tips and tales of living in a van and more focused on sharing news that I found alarming or weird – an audience started finding me and I found a little tiny bit of celebrity in blogging and podcasting- then someone offered to buy my blog for what seemed a great deal of money (at the time) and I sold my name (chrisdamitio.com) and started a couple of new blogs to fill in the void (clownjazeera for creepy clowns, fukn.us for news, vagobond.com for travel, vagobunny for sexy girls, existensis for religion and philosophy, etc) the guy who bought my blog, loaded it with ads and made quite a bit of money from it – meanwhile, I’d lost my audience with my blog and struggled to make it work – none of my blogs worked except Vagobond.com which was focused on travel – so I went all in for that and at one point had one of the top travel blogs in the world – I knew what I was blogging for at that point – it wasn’t for joy, it was for money. Advertisers were paying big to buy links and I started pulling in more money than I’d ever earned – trying to be smart about it – I reinvested it into more travel blogs – at one point I had nearly 70 blogs, was employing 15 writers, a couple of designers, and was also working and travelling non-stop – and that’s when Google pulled the plug. First they suspended my adsense account for click fraud (which I was not guilty of, by the way) and took away nearly $1200/month income. That was okay, my main income was selling links – but it was short lived – Google began penalizing advertisers for link buying – income dropped to less than $1000 a month very quickly, then Google took it up a notch and began penalizing sites with sold links. The entire blogging industry fell into a panic – some were ready, they were earning from different models – I wasn’t. The smart ready ones created travel blogging courses, started hosting trips, wrote eBooks, and created PR companies. I didn’t have the time or the foresight. My portfolio of sites very quickly became worthless. At the same time, what had been blog content was consumed by Pinterest, Instagram, and the ramping up of Facebook, Twitter, and for a short while Google+. I scrambled to stay on the top as an influencer and a social media guru – but it was too late and I was unable to keep up. Between becoming a father, moving my family to the USA, and trying to find a home…my blogging empire fell apart. I was riding pretty high for just less than a year…it allowed me to do some pretty serious travel and gave me the means to make the move to the USA…and then it dried up. My best month I earned close to $8000 – these past three years I’ve been earning right around $1000 a year from my blogs. From close to a hundred – I’m down to four websites. This one, Reedsport.info, ReedsportAntiques.com, and Vagobond.com. This one is right back to that sort of freeform online journaling about whatever I want, the antiques site is more or less a business card for my shop, Reedsport.info is a little community paper I publish, and Vagobond is still a travel blog – but no longer a big world wide site with multiple writers and photographers. The audience for blogs is not what it once was…there are more than 150 million blogs now and people are focused on their social media accounts instead of going to websites…clickbait sites get traffic, but I’ve never wanted to be one of those – but wouldn’t say no to the income. I’m grateful that I was able to earn what I did when I did. I wish I had been able to see the writing on the wall earlier because the money I spent on buying sites, paying writers and developers, SEO, and the time I spent on creating crappy content, creating crappy blogs, and ‘building my brand’ could have been put to much better use – although, I’m happy to say that I bought my name back from the guy who used it to earn during the blogging boom – which is why I have this site again. I’m not sure that blogging here (or on Vagobond) has a purpose anymore beyond expressing my thoughts (here) and sharing my adventures (on Vagobond) – I don’t think that most of my social network friends even bother to click through or read things like this anymore (unless I post them on Facebook) but because they are nice and because they are my friends and because they have lots of content to go through, they like my posts on their network and move on. And that’s okay…that’s what I do too. And I do this…and I’ll probably keep doing it.
When I was a pre-teen, my grandmother took my sister and I to a seminar workshop run by a guy named Wally Minto – it was a self-empowerment sort of thing that lasted a week and was called ‘Alpha Awareness’ – and it was useful enough that I regret not putting it into practice earlier and with more determination. Instead, the ideas have mostly lay dormant in my brain. One of them was a visualization of a sort of control room where my life was operated from. Last night, I dreamed of going into that control room and on a huge screen on the wall were all of the more troublesome moments of my life, right there with the aid of technology – for me to analyze and work with. I opened one up…and then I awoke…I wanted more time to work with these moments and to re-familiarize myself with the control room.
One of the great joys of my life is being Sophia’s primary teacher. From the time she was born, I’ve tried to never overlook an opportunity to open her eyes to the way the world works – from pointing out the science and math in everyday objects to letting her know about the vast amounts of information she can find in books and libraries. Sophia is a kindergartner who reads at a high level and now has a firm understanding of addition and subtraction and a basic level of multiplication – she can tell you about planets, elements, and a huge array of other things. She has (I think) a decent understanding of birth, life, death, and how the body works. All of this wasn’t learned from someone standing in front of a classroom or from hearing a lecture – it was learned because I saw her interest and helped to guide it to the things I think it is important that she learns. This idea didn’t come from a vacuum either. In the 1990s, I read a lot about un-schooling and different ideas about how education could be reformed – changed from an industrial model. In the early 2000’s I was introduced to the work of Tsunebaro Makiguci and his philosophy of education (Makiguci was not only an educator but the founder of one of the schools of Buddhism I follow – SGI) Makiguci was persecuted by the Imperial Japanese government for his pursuit of non-traditional education methods – in particular – the idea that a child should be encouraged to follow their passion and it is the educator’s job to guide that enthusiasm into the subjects the child needs to learn…that is what I have been doing with Sophia. I wish I had been given that kind of education, I wish we all had. I can only imagine how different the world would be. Not a world where money is the driving force, but a world where knowledge is. I hope that this reaches someone and allows them to find the sort of joy I am finding in helping my daughter to become the person she is meant to be.
I think it’s fair to say that our collective psychosis has been on display for a while now – first let me define the words
psychosis- a severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.
collective – all of us, together, as a whole
So, our collective psychosis is our societal loss with reality. I can think of countless examples..
war leading to peace
trickle down economics
government sponsored insurance corporations
lack of campaign finance control
privatized ‘for profit’ prisons
planetary rape despite climate change
denial of climate change
glorification of ‘anti-heroes’
The list could go on and on…these are dangerous delusions. Native American people called this psychic disease ‘wetico’ – it’s been with us for a long time, but the most obvious symptom is the individuals dissociation with reality – the adoption and often violent defense of what is obviously not true. There is a painfully obvious denial of one’s connection to the rest of our species, our biosphere, our universe, our reality. Those suffering from it exist in a universe where they are completely alone and only their needs, wants, and desires matter. Donald Trump is a good example of a full blown case…the support of him would seem to support a mass outbreak affecting huge swaths of the population. The recent outbreak of creepy clown sightings – in my opinion – are a visual manifestation of our broken psyches – a visual hallucination shared by a cohort of severely traumatized individuals who are struggling to make sense of an increasingly insane outer world. Are they real? I’ve no idea – if they are real, it is just another sign of our collective madness – a real world symptom of the breakdown of the human consciousness. If they are not real – it really doesn’t matter. The creepy clown in chief is right there in front of us all, placed there by one of the powerful institutions we are supposed to put our trust in. I’m not sure there is a cure for the illness we suffer – like those movies where people are exposed to an evil video tape and it tags them for death – I think our greed, our inflated sense of self importance, our acceptance of evil as necessary for the good, our delusions – all of it has been spread with the speed of a California wildfire after six years of drought amidst heavy Santa Ana winds via the internet, binge watching television, and smart phones. No video tape necessary, just a wifi connection. Don’t expect the clown sightings to go away. A few years ago, I had a website called Clownjazeera – I wanted to make a news site where creepy clowns did the news – deadpan, with no explanation. It never happened, which is probably a good thing. Here on this site, my obsession with creepy clowns manifested on this site too…there are a lot of creepy clowns on this site from around the 2005-2008 period…my only conclusion is that I’ve been suffering from this disease for longer than most – to quote a man named Skeeter who I once interviewed about his organization ‘Friends of the Trees’ “The bad news is that the world is headed towards hell in a handbasket. The good news (if good news there be) is that more people are aware of it.”
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my past behavior. While I’ve always thought of myself as a good person – lots of the things I have done – in particular with regards to other people, have been atrocious. The truth is – my behavior was often that of a bad person. I hope that I am no longer a bad person who thinks he is good (or a good person doing bad things) but the truth is – I didn’t think I was those things before…so it’s very hard to know. The problem really comes with the ego and its ability to justify bad behavior as acceptable behavior or even good behavior. How many times have any of us done something mean or terrible – something a good person would feel bad about – but the ego has come to our rescue and said “that person deserved it” or “they had it coming to them” or even “somebody needed to do that”. I remember punching a guy in the face one time. The guy wasn’t attacking me, he had simply said some things I didn’t like. So I punched him in the face. Good people don’t punch other people in the face unless they are under attack or defending someone who needs to be defended. Period. I felt a twinge of guilt afterwards…but my trusty ego …it saved the day…said I was justified…told me that the guy deserved it…painted me as a hero to all the people who the guy had said mean things to (and he was an a-hole). So, I did a bad person action – I punched another human being in the face when I didn’t need to – and then, instead of telling myself I was a bad person for that, or correcting my behavior, I encouraged my behavior by letting my ego tell me I was a hero. There was a time, after that event, when I was looking for opportunities to punch people in the face. Bad behavior. And yet, my ego had convinced me that punching people in the face made me a hero. I’m sure that many or most or maybe even all bad guys … have fallen into that trap. What kinds of lies has your ego told you? I am only now beginning to understand the deceptions my ego has played on me…If my ego was able to convince me I was a hero when I was being a bad guy, what other illusions has it cast on me? What about you? I think it is worth thinking about…
I hear my ego in my mind…it usually makes itself known with a voice that says things like “What do I want?” or “What would make me happy?” or “What I really want is…” or “What I would like to do is..” – it’s really quite distinct from my normal thoughts or brain workings. I’ve started to address it as “I” – not in a judgmental way, but just recognizing that it is not me in totality…but simply a part of me. So, addressing my ego (mentally) I say “What does ‘I’ want?” or “What would make “I” happy?” and then “Will what “I” wants actually be good for me?” “Is what “I” wants something that will make me happy?” It’s not bad grammar…hopefully the way I am explaining it makes sense. In any event, the idea is to go beyond what gratifies my ego and move into decisions that gratify the totality of myself…
I just wanted to share. Do you have any experiences like this? What are your thoughts?
The book festival yesterday was thought provoking. Lots of thoughts were provoked. Here are a few of them. As a young person (and today as well) I read a lot – I was inspired by great storytelling from the likes of Tolkien, Verne, Piers Anthony, Robert Heinlein, Steinbeck, Hemingway, Dickens, Twain, and London. I am inspired by well written history, thought provoking philosophy and spirituality, and approachable, practical how-to books. I like books that allow me to learn. I love books that allow me to visit far off destinations and exotic cultures and landscapes.
As a younger adult – I was also dazzled by the reckless and dangerous lifestyles of many writers. Hard drinking, hard drugging, hard loving, emotional roller coasters – like Hank Moody from Californication – I wanted to live like that.
I was never inspired by popular fiction like detective novels, thrillers or best sellers. I never wanted to be some boring baby boomer slaving away over a word processor and sitting in empty halls filled with tables behind which boring baby boomers sit eyeing potential readers with hunger.Yesterday, I found myself right there. Best selling author Philip Margolin was there too, sitting behind a table, trying to smile, signing books. I had no desire to be him. I had no desire to read his books.
I’ve not wanted to be Hank Moody or Jack Kerouac or Hemingway for quite a while now. The desire has passed. The idea of being an older Jack London type, building a ranch, hosting friends, fighting for good political ends…that appeals to me. I’d still love to write compelling stories…but they need to be stories with a purpose, stories that have more substance than a Moody-esque “I drank, I got fucked up, I got fucked, it was awful, I survived, I did it again, something awesome happened, I was miserable, I did it again”
My books previously have been a combination of how-to, travel to exotic places, introduction to exotic ideas, and fucked-upness with an over-exaggerated desire to attract attention by offending. I was using offense as a hook…which was (perhaps) novel in the 80s and 90s but now, in the age of the internet, is just boring.
I’ve changed a lot. I admit it. Enough that I can see foolishness where before I thought there was brilliance. Enough to see problems where before I thought there was quality. I was in love with my title “Douchebags, Fags, and Hags” I thought it was hilarious…yesterday, honestly, I was embarrassed by it and while I still love the novel – am pretty sure I would have sold a lot more if I had called it “The Sultanate of Baboob” or “Pig and the Sexy Nun” or even just “Pig”. There were other things I noticed and was shocked by, such as my putting of an ancient pre-Columbian artifact showing two dogs fucking on the back of my rather serious “Liminal Travel” – I remember thinking it was funny – an artifact from the MET referencing an off-color joke on the back of my book – but it has nothing to do with my book. Why did I put it there? Probably the same reason I put the horrible back cover on Smooth Living – enough to see that Slackville Road is a good idea with bad execution…and an ugly cover. I was blinded with love for my own creations…and I think the time I’ve taken off from writing has been a good thing.
The money and time I spent yesterday did not yield a financial return, but even so, I think it was well spent.