Sitting Log #11 + Heinlein's Rules + Gold and Shit

And then this entry here, which doesn’t count.

The stuff for Corpo Real and MMM today was from the old English podcast. Maybe once I find a tool I like, I will start podcasting in English again. But that might take some time.

So, for the foreseeable future, I am going through the English scripts for each episode and saving relevant stuff in the form of blog posts, because…

Heinlein’s 5 business rules

  1. You must write.

  2. You must finish what you write.

  3. You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.

  4. You must put the work on the market.

  5. You must keep the work on the market until it is sold.

…and not doing #4 makes me feel really very psychologically constipated, and that is especially no good when it is so hot.


Gold vs. Shit

There’s a school of thought where “If it isn’t gold (basically, if it’s shit), don’t let the world see it” is the mentality. This is not my mentality. At all.

I do not know what is gold and what isn’t. Why would I spend time determining that? Let someone else decide that. Who cares?

Besides, who are these people who claim to know what is gold and what isn’t, not only for themselves, but also for others? When did they decide that they could determine that for other people or other people’s work? Who let them decide that?

Who are the people who await the verdict of these goldshit experts? Do I want to write/talk/exist for either the goldshit experts or the verdict-awaiters? Absolutely not.

When did personal taste become such a rarity?

By the way, I’m talking about podcasts and fiction. They aren’t rocket science. They aren’t heart surgery. Literally no one will die if someone reads a “bad” book. No one will die from anybody recording and publishing a “bad” podcast, period.

So…

…if one has nothing better to do than caring about the ideas of universally-applicable shit and gold, maybe one should try shitting some oneself. Like, intentionally. Then one will see that shitting takes skill. 😂 Or that one’s gold is someone else’s shit. Or that one’s shit is someone else’s gold.

This is why Heinlein makes so much sense.

And I have immense respect for anybody who actually writes/records/does something rather than talks about doing. I respect the insta poets and Tiktokers.

(This, even though I do not like Instagram and Tiktok. My dislike for the platforms has nothing to do with my respect for people who make stuff there—unless they are claiming that they hate the platform. If they hate the platform, maybe they should leave it altogether or only use it up to the point where the platform benefits them.)

(ex: There are people who only use Facebook to talk to their grandma. I think that’s great. It makes total sense.)

(ex2: I only use Instagram for my Korean pen name, because on most local (Korean) platforms, I cannot even create an account. And Koreans have no reason to use non-Korean platforms unless they’re global. And Big Tech is Big Tech because it’s big. It allows me—as a US citizen living in the US—to reach Korean speakers living in Korea.

Instagram is shit to me in the US. Instagram is gold to me in Korea. For now.)


The futility of waiting

In the book “Writing on the Wall: Social Media – the First 2,000 Years” (an excellent book, very fun to read), it is mentioned that the poet Horace…

…advised authors to wait nine years after completing a work before handing it out, to be sure that they were entirely happy with it, because “once your words are sent out you can’t recall them.”

This sounds like madness to me, especially because the dude used to live in the era of gladiators. People died all the time!

…which people still do, in the year 2022, but at least we don’t expect to be shredded by a lion. If I’d lived when he lived, I wasn’t gonna wait nine years to make sure that my words were gold.

If they were shit before, they’ll stay shit. If they were gold before, then they’re gold anyway, so why wait nine years?

Fake humility makes no sense whatsoever.

I don’t expect to partake in gladiator games anytime soon, but still, it is entirely possible that I will be shredded by a speeding car tomorrow. So, I shall deal with my shit. That way, I know that I can deal with my gold too.


#sittinglog #podcast #journal #writing #archive2022Q2

P.S. Call me Ithaka. Everything I do is organized here.

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