Mission Statement
Or: "Let's Not Read This Substack After All"
I like to watch / read / listen to negative reviews (especially ones that point out how ideology I hate is responsible for how bad all these films/shows/books/games are getting).
I also like to argue against aforesaid ideology, and muse about history and technology and philosophy and statistics; I often watch / read / listen to that stuff too.
I also would like to make so much money I never have to work again. Boy, do I hate work.
The problem is that no one is offering to give me large sums of money, for some reason; another problem is that when I listen to the aforementioned stuff I often think “man, I could do so much better.”
People misuse words all the time. Is it a sign of some sort of mental problem that I feel like this is evidence that I’m better than they are?
No. It’s completely reasonable. The ten-thousandth time I heard a popular YouTube, uh, intellectual use “throwback” when they meant “callback”, or “simplistic” when they meant “simple”, I thought: “hey, why don’t you make some YouTube videos, Kveldred?”
People also make bad arguments all the time. I get real mad when I see that a show has put specious reasoning in the mouth of a character, and yet the writers clearly feel they’ve scored a home-run; the same, when I see a big dumb plot-hole getting papered over with explanations that would contradict the scene that immediately follows; even more so, when I notice that a popular figure has uncritically repeated a myth, or affirmed the consequent (“all squares are rectangles, so all rectangles are squares”), or some such thing, and no one seems to notice.
I often write long essays in my head about how dumb this shit is…
…and then forget and go on about my business. The ten-thousandth time this happened, I thought “hey, why don’t you write this stuff down, Kveldred?”
Because I’m lazy as hell, that’s why. Hey, maybe this will turn into a Substack about how to conquer procrastination.
…but probably not. I predicted, on my ill-fated first attempt, that I would never write anything; and, like all of my predictions, it was correct. As I said the ten-thousandth time I tried to quit being a lazy piece of garbage, though: “Maybe this time will be different.”
(You can help by giving me lots of money, just FYI. Any takers? No? Well, it’s the world that’s losing here, you know.)