Anyone who has ever been acquainted with me for more than a few seconds understands that I am always attempting to eat the whole elephant—no implements, a little Tabasco, ass-first. Kind and polite though ever I have been, no one took the time to sit me down and teach me the mysterious ways of “Mama Moderation;” as a matter of fact, during my sweet and tender formative years, I was effectively rewarded for being larger-than-life. Subsequently, somewhere along the way—perhaps, while listening to recorded bits of cheaply-won “Wisdom,” in order to better myself and more deeply comprehend how to be an upstanding, contributing citizen—I neglected to stick around for the end of, “All things…” Besides, I have come to realize that, without the mish-mash of all the other savory and unsavory flavors, some parts of my elephant don’t taste so great.
Criminy! These days, I find myself chuckling, alone, scrambling eggs and remembering to enjoy the silliness of all these new unknowns—each with its own strict timeline. I am simply trying to set up a “Web presence,” in order to promote my books; singlehandedly steer the world toward a better path; and, write long-winded and vacuous bits that people will read out of a latent sense of consternation. “Poof! Done.” Right? That said, with everyone now magically grokking my ways and motivations, that I am nearly overwhelmed these last eight days by the demands of “all the stuff ya need to git notice’ ‘t all on the Internet” should come as no surprise. I feel like that kid who, index fingers shoved up his nose and peering over his shoulder at the pretty girl, is speeding down a hill on his training-wheels-bedecked bike toward the back of a parked car.
My humble plan for world domination(I’ll be striking in waves—waves!—in case you’re interested) includes setting up the “best-ever” [pages] (in no particular order) on: Facebook, Twitter, bebo, Friendster, DEeXchange, hi5, Instagr.am, Flicker, LinkedIn, MerchantsCircle.com, Myspace, orkut, Netlog,…(What the hell is zorpia?!) And, by the by, simultaneously, I am creating accounts at such sites as HubPages, Xomba, Squidoo, CreateSpace, Bukisa, DemandStudios, eHow, InfoBarrel, AssociatedContent, RedGage, Articlesbase, Triond, Helium and EzineArticles—as well as any traditional freelance gigs I can find, off- or online, such as Examiner.com and Topix. And, let us not rule out bartending and prostitution, in this time of need. These will pay me $$$, as my chubby, ugly newborn grows. And, many, many more await my tip-tapping.
Oh, yes! Have I mentioned that not one bit of this matters for crap, unless the bills get paid whilst working on it? Let us toss onto the pile service-accounts such as Google AdSense and AdWords, ClickStream, Greatnexus, along with QuizSnack, link-building, content syndication, SEO, and all the other affiliates and methods available, because only by the conduits and grace of these shall any of us be noticed—and make some scratch—on the Internets.
I suppose that I should factor in the several dozens of semi-written bits, blog-posts and articles which litter my desk-top and my desktop. (Yes, for better or worse, there is a difference.) Those take time to produce, also, and they are instrumental in any plans for world-domination-by-way-of-“Web-presence.”
So, there you have it, splayed out in all its finest, sluttiest raiment. And, what do I have to show for a week’s worth of tip-tapping, signing up, and staring bleary-eyed at six monitors? Well, since I have not spent the time I could have spent either on formatting or the addition of cool content, and I haven’t decided on what graphics I would like to imbed, I have instead a series of pages which are eerily vacant. I profer nothing other than the presence of a shiny-pink orb, smirking to the side, sporting functionally appropriate eyeglasses, dressed in finest linen. The other extreme, however, suggests that I was under duress, being clubbed over the head with a nail-bristled bat, as I attempted to set up a blog replete only with TEETH and rich colors and splashes of seeming-violence, misaligned text and “crazy-rape” fonts. (Again, I haven’t practiced—and, I am realizing that I haven’t kept up on my HTML; even if I had, a paucity of time pervades my days.). Even as I read this, I am disappointing dozens of veteran Facebookers and Myspacers, who do not know and could not understand how I simply have not studied up on the ways to use their spaces—yet. (As Hamlet might say, “I know not where the clickings would begin and end.”) These last two days, my Twitter account seems to me a ticker-tape of all the stock-markets of the world, my feed, alas, shut down for massive insider-trading, and ticking out nothing. No, really, it’s weird, and bad and embarrassing. Go. See. Chuckle. I’m getting better, I assure you.
Everyone has dreamt, at one time or another in this new age, about how their great “Introduction to the World Wide Web” would appear; I never would have expected such a rough beginning for mine. This, the Internet—with its multifaceted services and interconnected mobile apps—is the way, now. The publishing and promotion of books, “writing content”(as they now say), getting noticed by the new and momentarily meaningful, and hacking out notches in the bedpost, are all done here. So, I’m not miserable in the least, because, in some ways, this is what I have always done—and, done well. And, along with all the errors, attempts and (slow, timid, bungling) completions, I am having the time of my life. I am learning, and I wouldn’t trade these days—and, the indigestion, loss of good looks and restful slumber—for any other elephant, no matter how tasty.
Time for beach and dogs, I’m thinking. For just a bit longer, Twitter shall “twit” without me.
