This Exposition will help express some of our personal thoughts
regarding the Internet's current era, of which The Blish Collective will now pompously coin as:
The "Internet's Dumbest Ideological Transformation,"
or I-D-IT (pronounced "id-ee-it"),
And why you, an inherently talented writer,
are being fucked over because of it.
In a Nutshell.
A breeding ground for ingenuity.
A collaborative project for the betterment of humanity.
An opportunity for any nobody to become a somebody.
A way to put businesses on a more accessible, personal level.
A melting pot for artistic creativity.
We began social experimentation.
We founded blogs.
We started shopping.
We were offered news.
The individual thrived.
Businesses also thrived.
And advertising. Oh advertising.
The revenue stream that dreams are made of. It flourished.
Marketing and business models developed.
Page views and clicks paved the way.
The quintessential eye-catching medium.
Well, we've been through that for decades.
Page views, popularity, money. By all means, money.
An "online conglomerate" became not so outrageous.
Artistic freedom downgraded. Competition amplified. Routine set in.
Job creationists. Conformity-based derivations. You built this.
When we need stability, you dangle the carrot.
Enhance a competitive nature through an established norm.
More page views, more clicks – more news.
More forced news. Direct news. Social news. Literature and news.
Quirky news. Subversive news. NSFW news.
Direct, in your face, every second news.
Need more content. Need more ads. Need more cogs in the wheel.
From dialup to broadband to fiber-optics,
we're practically ahead of the news.
We've reached a pinnacle of information overload.
The individual is nowhere to be found,
even amid our own perceived existence.
Job boards are an overwhelming vacuum.
Social networks have provided a veil of individualism.
The shift from print to web has masked creative pursuits.
Artistic ingenuity has surely ceased to thrive as much as it could.
Everything is at our fingertips, all in subtly nefarious ways.
Our Internet is in a jumble.
It's selling out.
And we're buying into it.
Then again, why not?
The Internet now nourishes a stable lifestyle.
There's a 30,000 square-foot corporate headquarters
sporting that 250 word blog post.
Writing has suffered. Standards have suffered.
Life generally leans toward what somehow conspires.
Feeding into the interminable decline
of an alternative writing-based technological achievement –
the "struggling writer" sure could use it.
Well, it could use something.
"No one's taking a chance on my work."
"I don't have the ability to solicit a decent romance,
how can you expect me to solicit a piece of writing?"
"Should I sell my soul to get published?"
Don't be an I-D-IT.
Being a writer is overwrought.
The concept of a "struggling writer" has maintained itself as the backbone of the profession.
Most people are well aware of the idiosyncrasies that define writers,
and the predestined, impoverished lifestyle that haunts them from the get-go.
That's a part of the experience. That's what you signed up for.
It's an inevitability that every writer has to deal with.
Subverting the fictitious norm has always been difficult.
Is the hardship over getting published
supposed to fuel your writing?
Surely, there's no better way to establish yourself
as a writer than to receive constant rejection.
How else can you fester up those caustic opinions?
What about honing your creativity through overwhelming self-consciousness?
And not to mention jumpstarting your agoraphobia to gain the debilitating introspection readers adore.
That's the kind of dreadful persona writers dream of.
There is absolutely no other way for you to become a seasoned writer
with disgustingly thick skin than to never get anything published. Ever.
And posthumous success is always at least ten times better anyway.
Submitting to a prominent blog or website
can be depressing, if not shameful,
but there's no better way to pay your dues
than to follow the traditional path.
As a writer, you should want to succumb to the horrendously slipshod standards of today
by watering down your ingenuity to meet the shitty click-based ideal.
To even think about having your own individual writing style and ideas stand out
amid a bunch of typified articles is truly asinine and outlandish.
No one wants to hear from little old you.
Get over yourself.
It's so cute that you can formulate
a well-established, emotive short story.
Now try writing a headline.
They're popular. They're cool. Who are you?
Many blogs and websites today
have been building up notoriety for years,
so naturally they're a proud folk.
Learn your professional hierarchy.
They're on it.
Would you seriously expect them to take your writing?
With that stupid personal blog you've been maintaining since 2007?
And that obscenely unique perspective of yours?
You're just not on it.
You make me sick.
The Not-So-Bottom Line.
These blogs are pervasive.
They seem to represent the only accessible,
prominent publishing sources available,
even if they tend to focus mostly on journalism.
They are without a doubt the most viable way
to get your foot in the door as the writer you are.
Scrap your short stories, that novel of yours,
the essays you've been accumulating for years,
even the uniquely driven journalistic pieces you've hoarded,
and write a list(icle), a how-to article, popular culture updates,
terse posts about Reddit vigilantism,
or anything that includes graphic images and videos.
Don't forget that you can always pay for your own plane ticket to a foreign country
to write in travelogue prose about brothels, drug use, or any other forcibly profane behavior
in a self-proclaimed, underpaid attempt at whatever the hell you want to believe "Immersionism" actually is.
The less you write the better.
Keep your post down to an absolute maximum of 500 words.
Sprinkle in some bombast to show that you know what you're talking about.
Face it, you'll never be the next Galker.
You have no chance of overtaking The Huphington Poast.
And there is absolutely no way in hell that anything
will ever equate to the intellectual enormity that is Buhzfeet.
Adapt, and start feeding them sustenance already.
Keep them alive.
You can satiate your borderline-livable-wage appetite with a modest check per post, or if you're lucky,
you'll be paid by the page views you generate, so you really only need to come up with a clickable headline!
Whatever you do, don't go up against the indoctrinated publishing system set in place.
There is no room for you and your overt opinions in this already polarized world.
Follow this advice and maybe you'll get some nice endorsements.
Remember, these popular sources are always looking out for the betterment of you.
Go with the flow.
Figure out the method to the madness, and you'll fall into the groove.
It's smooth sailing from there on out.
Regurgitated post after regurgitated post.
Any mundane instance that could border on a civil rights discussion.
Political gaffes, as long as the individual involved is super eccentric,
obscenely conservative, or the mayor of New York City.
Maybe now that you're in the groove,
you could even pull out that writing you used to work on.
That unfinished novella.
The satirical pieces you've had on the back burner.
That memoir of yours detailing intimate periods of your life.
Yeah, you used to work on a lot of great writing, remember?
On the other hand, you really have no say in the matter.
You can only follow the beaten path.
How else are you going to do what you love?
You're a talented writer. Prove it.