Anne Hathaway

There are things we do for content when you are, as I've come to grudgingly understand myself, a content creator. In my GenX head, that sounds like the sort of person who lets people watch them watch television shows or who puts on way too much makeup that seems like it will end up looking terrible but is usually pretty good or who doesn't know how to box but boxes people anyway. You know, the types of options for income that didn't exist until I was well into adulthood and therefore confound and frighten me. The right thing to do is respond with reflexive, defensive scorn and contrast it all in the negative against the way we did things "in my day," but that's tough to do when "my day" was like the early-to-mid-1990s. That's the era where we let Clarence Thomas get a seat on the Supreme Court. We thought Carson Daly was cool. We have no cultural leg to stand on.

I was going to refer to myself as "lazy" here since I'm not super interested in taking any initiative to make this particular content mill any more appealing in terms of aesthetics or general entertainment options. I mean, you see the decor here. As blogs go, it's basically Patrick Bateman's business card, but inherently less interesting because you know that's as deep as the similarities go. If I were murdering people in my living room, you can be certain that would be my content-creator angle rather than this bullshit. I'd probably only get the one video up before people, you know, noticed, but it would probably trend on twitter for a day or two. That's big living! But alas, I don't even like Huey Lewis.

A smart content creator recognizes when they can achieve their product-churning goals with as little work as possible. You can always opt in to some relationship drama (actual or fictional doesn't really matter, just keep in mind anything reality based is just so limiting in the possibilities) or be a former Disney Channel or Nickelodeon star. I don't really have that kind of luck. Read that however you want.

A bad content creator works really hard to do the best they can every day/week/month/whatever. That kind of ambition is the kind of shit Boomers won't stop talking about, but be honest, when was the last time you saw a Boomer go viral where they were the ones doing the filming on purpose? No matter how it starts off, it always ends up with them, like, pulling a gun on a jaywalker or something. These are not people to emulate. Meanwhile some twenty-something digs holes in Minecraft four hours a week and they're out there buying private islands. Most of what they have was lost when all the crypto went to shit, but the point is they had it without ever having to go out and get those jobs that Boomers imagine still exist but definitely haven't since about 1978. 

Work smarter, not harder, that's the ethos. Of course the people saying that these days are also doing four gig-type hustles on top of full-time school and a Starbucks job (for the free croissants), but it's about the mindset.

Like what I should be doing here: cat updates. I told you guys we got a cat way back in fucking June. Have you been on the internet in the last... well, at any point since it's inception? Cats are the free-est of free content! 81% of the internet is cats. And I haven't said one thing about it. Let's activate the brand, people! So welcome to what is totally going to be a super regular segment here on the blog: Cat Update.

The cat is fine. She does very cat things. She's not allowed in my room because I would like one spot without a bunch of goddamned cat hair in it. She hates this, but this is because her mortal enemies is any closed door with a person on the other side of it. Emerge from any door and the cat is waiting for you, staring you dead in your soul, accusing, scorning. She has an affinity for shoes in a manner that makes her almost an anti-Tarantino; worn, unworn, it doesn't matter, they will be inspected, watched and occasionally attacked, just in case they get any ideas. She occasionally sits on me and purrs, but only when I am about to get up. How she knows this I cannot possibly comprehend, partially because her feline evolutionary sense is so alien to me as a human I can't begin to understand the core complexity of its needs and impulses and also because she sleeps like 23.5 hours a day, so how do you get a bead on that? She just lays there. All the goddamned time.

OK, that should be good to get me some wider internet love. It didn't seem that much easier than a regular post. I mean, it took me six grown-ass paragraphs to get to the cat content. It's possible I'm misunderstanding my own assignment here. I still might have some growth ahead of me. I appreciate your patience.