You Will Never Speak For Me

Okay, I’ve been inactive, I’m not even going to explain myself on that one this time because it’s a common occurrence, it’s what being a man with limited resources and unlimited depression does when he has a blog. I’m back, with a vengeance I might add, to put in my two cents on Autism Awareness Month, particularly, how many of you might be approaching this the wrong way. My first point, is your profile picture covered with a blue filter? Well then, read on, you might reconsider that filter by the end of this article.

Autism Awareness Month, largely paraded by the charity Autism Speaks, is about raising awareness of the trials and tribulations that come with autism, both for those who are on the spectrum and those who have loved ones that are. Speaking as a man both on the spectrum and related to another who is, I won’t deny, there are trying moments in life that were daunting to us but perfectly normal events to the other kids in classes or colleagues at work places. Social etiquette, for example, eluded me for so long that I got angry at other people for having it when I did not, I came to think of myself as living in a world of imbeciles, not realising that not only did the world struggle to understand me, I too struggled to understand the world. However, my biggest qualms with Autism Awareness can be summarised thusly:

  1. People are AWARE, what they lack is UNDERSTANDING
  2. Autism Speaks

I shall challenge these points in reverse order to how they are listed, because Autism Speaks is to autism what Donald Trump is to Mexico – hilariously misinformed and full of hatred towards their people.

Autism Speaks is not a happy jolly charity as they might have you believe, their solution to the struggles of the autistic community would be akin to Oxfam forming a militia and marching on Syria, Autism Speaks seeks a ‘cure’ to autism, a ‘prevention’ of it. Don’t believe me? Check their ‘About Us’ section on their site:

“Autism Speaks has grown into the world’s leading autism science and advocacy organization, dedicated to funding research into the causes, prevention, treatments and a cure for autism”

Direct quote. Causes, prevention, treatments and cure. You know, like it were a disease. Autism Speaks has been called out in the past on recommending things such as bleach enemas and allowing parents to express their desire to ‘fix’ their child, sometimes with said child in the room. Now this, this is personal, this isn’t just social justice speaking, this is “You do not tell me that I, my brother and thousands of others are broken human beings you need to fix, we are fucking beautiful”.

You know what you’re saying when you want to cure someone of autism? You’re saying you want to kill them and replace them with someone similar but normal. Autism affects how someone sees the world, how they think, what they like, what they don’t like, what knowledge they have, what things they will remember, their hopes, dreams and fears are all dictated by autism, it is not a disease or curse but a whole other way of existing as a human being. I have tried to explain this to people as being left-handed in a right-handed world. You may have challenges trying to be like the others but in the end, you find a way and your way is different but it works just the same in the end and there’s no reason a left-handed person is less valid than a right-handed one. You could try to make that person right-handed but it would change how they do everything, it would mean they had to relearn everything they ever knew about how to interact with the world and your friend or family member would be someone entirely different for it. In a sense, you would replace them with someone you perceive to be more normal, or rather, more like what you think should be normal. If you want to screen for autistic children or find a way to fix them, you want them dead. This isn’t a disability, this is a way of being human that you cannot understand and that is why you want us dead.

So you might understand why I say we don’t need your awareness campaigns, much less do we need a charity that thinks of us as a blight to be remedied. Autism and aspergers aren’t things you need to raise awareness for, they are things you need to raise understanding of. I generally scoff at awareness campaigns, who at this point is still clueless what breast cancer is? We KNOW what cancer is, we KNOW what diabetes is, we KNOW what Parkinson’s is, teach people what it means to live with these things and how to help those who have to, make people understand why diabetes isn’t just “Ate too much sugary food” or why cancer isn’t just “Thing that can kill you but if you take pills and go bald, you might not die”. The ALS Ice Bucket challenge was the last awareness campaign I agreed with. Why? I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT IT WAS. Awareness is Stage One, Stage Two is education. Imagine if your teacher taught you to read by pointing at a book repeatedly and went
“That’s a book. People read those”
Ok great, how? Why? Where do I get a book? What is a book for?
“That’s a book. People read those”
I am aware that is a book, tell me more.
“That’s a…”
YOU SEE THE PROBLEM?

Also, putting autism in a class with cancer and motor-neurone disease in that it is something you raise awareness for, you class it as a problem. If a charity is ‘raising awareness’, it is telling you there is a problem to be fixed. If there is a disease we cannot cure, we need to be aware of it. If there is a country ravaged by war, we need to be aware of it. If there are people dying in ways we didn’t realise, we need to be aware of it. What the fuck do we need Autism Awareness for? I’m aware it exists, what else will you do Autism Speaks? Nothing, except witter on about how hard it is to deal with your kids because they’re noisy or won’t keep their jumper on or don’t like other children.

I’m sorry to get so angry, except I’m not. Autism Speaks does not, has never and probably never will speak for the autistic community, it speaks for those who wish there wasn’t an autistic community, and I personally am glad there is an autistic community. I tried talking this over with my brother, who also has autism, and he thought perhaps he wouldn’t miss it if he didn’t have it and I had to try to explain to him he couldn’t perceive not having it because having it has shaped his entire being. The idea of being neurotypical is just inconceivable to me, it would not be me, he could have my face and voice but he would have different friends, feelings and interests. Please, for goodness sake, do not partake in lighting it up blue, “Go Red Instead” is a counter-campaign about raising awareness of Autism Speaks, who, if they want centre-stage this month, let’s make you aware that they’re not just about helping families live with autism, they’re about helping families NOT have to live with autism, helping families abandon autistic children, helping families mutilate autistic children and poison them. Check it out at the link below and please, remember that autism doesn’t need a cure, it needs people to realise that we are just like you, seek to understand us like you seek to understand your fellow men, for we are they.

http://profile.actionsprout.com/o/18D37E

The Year Ahead: 2016

Okay, so I’ll begin by saying that this will probably sound like the typical ‘new year, new me’ nonsense that the cynics amongst us love to shoot down without mercy – we are always sceptical of change, especially change in people, and we make a joke out of people who claim they are going to but honestly, you have to credit people for even trying and maybe a lot of them will give up on that new outlook three weeks into the new year but some of them don’t and that is quite remarkable. With that in mind, let’s move on shall we? Allow me to share what I hope 2016 will have in store for me and what I have in store for 2016.

So, the big thing is I joined a gym, I’ve already attended a session and I’m going again on Monday. I’m tied into a twelve month contract, can’t leave it without 30 days notice so I’m going to commit to it and this will encourage me to actually work out – last year I tried getting fit by just going for jogs around the local scenery and this was nice but it was way too easy to find excuses not to do it (It’s rained a bit, I’m tired, my friend said they’d come but they’re not going to). With the gym membership, if I don’t go, I’m charging myself £9.99 a month to be a lazy asshole and I’ve not joined alone – both friends and family have joined up so I always have someone to go with and if I don’t go then I have lots of people to encourage me to do so, rather than just relying on myself to be motivated. The plan with the gym is to bust the gut and have a body I can be happy with, at the very least to not have any overhang above the belt considering I don’t recall having that same pudge two years ago and I don’t much like having it now.

Aside from the physical fitness regime, 2016 is the year I plan to make the year in which my blog reaches into new territory, namely vlog territory. The Facebook page is already home to some fun playthrough videos, which if you haven’t watched I encourage you to do so, but still there is work to be done and I’m not content just yet. I have the resources to hand at long last to begin making bigger strides into the internet community, to stop being some obscure little blog down the back of the metaphorical sofa, I’m going to be a name people recognise and it won’t happen right away but 2016 is where I get things going. People have stepped up to help here and there and plans are underway. I really want to make 2016 the year I get personal projects off the ground, 2015 was going to be all that but aside from clearing the table to get the work done, fuck all happened. Life got in the way, I understand, but maybe there’s a workaround and it’s time I found out what that was if this is ever going to be something more than it is currently.

Personal life wise, I need to find a way to move on, in multiple senses of the term. I feel myself stagnating and my friends assure me it isn’t so but I’ve spinning my wheels and enough is enough. Get a job, get up on my own two feet and get to a place where I can actually respect who I am and feel secure in that. I realise these goals are vague, they say vague ambitions are no ambitions at all but honestly, I’ve been so dizzied by my life lately that this is as coherent as I can do at the moment. At the time of writing, I have a terrible rash down my back and legs that bleeds at random, shoulder pain, back pain, chest pain and sudden headaches akin to being on the receiving end of Thor’s wrath.

I’m going to stop rambling, I’ve been told I go on longer than I need to on posts like this so let me just say that I hope you will come to hear more from me this year and I wish you every success in your ventures, as I’m sure you do in mine… otherwise, why are you here right?

My 2015

Happy New Year! I had hoped to be posting today’s post yesterday and tomorrow’s post today but it seemed all out of nowhere I had a life again, with places to be and people to see and that was exciting so it took precedent over writing blog posts for basically those same people to read. I’m going to look back on my year today and tomorrow, look forward to the new and this post is for those of you who take some interest in the man behind the rant and how his head works (Spoiler Alert: Not very well)

2014, as it drew to a close, had been an odd year but it ended on a high note because whilst I had recently become unemployed and was still in the same old situation of single and sponging off my family whilst earning just enough to pay for my own things (Social life, phone bills, contributions to the home), I was happy enough and I figured with such valuable experience and good friends, life would work out. 2015 then, said “Ehh…” and whilst I had been employed for a good chunk of the year, working in care, come the end of the summer I was now back on benefits, the margins for which had tightened and the people giving the handouts had gotten meaner than I ever remembered them being. Alas, getting ahead of myself so I’ll try to follow the course of the year and explain myself, omitting names of course for the sake of those involved.

Looking back at what scraps of a journal I had maintained in the start of the year, the year started on a bum note, social events being scrapped last minute and my general tone in the book is grim but with a sort of underlying hope, something I can admit is the same now. The ambitious plan to go jogging out in the wild fell into obscurity around February but then things got better around March because although I had been going through one heck of an odd journey with a friend of mine, I then found myself employed and in a job that didn’t make me want to throttle people, which is hard to come by. All seemed well, perhaps the key word being seemed.

Through no fault of their own but rather their circumstances and general isolation, I was employed as the sole carer of someone, and though we were told there would be more hours and pay coming my way someday, tomorrow never came and I found myself worked to the bone as the carer, cleaner, personal shopper, psychiatrist and advocate of someone who really just needed the various officials in her life to shut up and listen to her. Things reached a peak and the pressure of it all caused her to breakdown, followed shortly after by me and so she found an alternate living arrangement and I found myself unemployed. No malice held for them for what they chose to do, they did what was best for them and for me – after all, I could get work again and whilst I am currently unemployed, at the time of writing three different employers are all very interested in me.

So, with the autumn and winter ahead, my 21st looming and Christmas after that, I was back on the hunt for work, honing my skills in retail by making my semi-triumphant return to Oxfam, having become something of an urban legend in the place judging by the number of “(VOLUNTEER NAME) told me about you, I’m (NAME)”, perhaps the most realistic substitute for actual fame is that sort of remark – though 2015 was the year that saw my blog reach new heights of over 1000 views in a week, video posts on my Facebook page and even some recognition on the street as “That wanker who writes about feminism”.

2015 wasn’t all doom and gloom, there are some friends I found myself closer to than I had been previously and whilst some saw fit to kick me whilst down, I at least weeded out bad eggs in the process – namely people harboring hilariously outdated views and people willing to abandon my friendship for £20, go figure. I also made a new friend in someone whom previously I had not exactly been pally with, they were friends with people who belittled me in my youth and they then contacted me, having remembered me from encountering my blog, they then apologised for following the crowd and explained themselves to the point where we mutually agreed that school isn’t about an education, it’s some sort of psychologically traumatising rites of passage in which you are just doing whatever it takes to get through it and we just happened to have different means of doing that. I also changed medical practice and got my formal diagnosis at long last, considering my former GP was determined my social anxiety was nothing more than “stress” and the need for “a good holiday somewhere nice”, as if I had that as an option.

So 2015 ended with me now unemployed, still single and my depression has only gotten worse but on the upside, perhaps those things won’t last. 2014 ended with me single and unemployed but also lost, which I tried to pass off as looking for opportunities but with no idea where to look where as now, I have jobs lined up, fewer but better friends and I signed up to an actual gym so if nothing else, I can at least be attractive whilst wallowing in self-pity!

Happy New Year and shit.

Christmas 2015

Merry Christmas dear readers, is the turkey sitting nicely in your gut (or vegan equivalent? So as not to discriminate). I hope this year finds you all doing well and of course, wishing you the best for the year to come. As is becoming of yearly traditions, I am here to fill you in on my Christmas and a recap of the lead up to it, from my perspective, because that is what you are here to read. I am not a newspaper nor a company, merely a man with a blog that you all seem to take some interest in, however slight or strong it may be.

I will admit I have not looked forward to Christmas – unemployment, tight finances, dwindling social life and a constant stream of happiness from the world around me seemingly for everyone bar me has had me greet festivity with bitterness in my heart. As I write this, that bitterness begins to come forth once again, as it often does in an evening. I made my efforts though, I am not one to let my personal woes ruin the joy of others and so I participated in gift-giving, jumper-wearing and cheer-spreading, albeit with a somewhat pained grimace where a smile should have been. Today in itself consisted of the usual gift-unwrapping followed by films, Doctor Who, dinner and then everyone toddles off again to do their own thing, my thing being returning to my little cell of a bedroom to brood and contemplate on doing something creative until it is suddenly 2:34AM and all I have achieved is removing my trousers and staring at the utter lack of notifications I have to attend to on my Facebook.

Christmas, in a sense, has yet to actually come for me because whilst I have received cash from the folks and a new shirt from one of my brothers, the bulk of my gifts are coming from friends I have not had the chance to see yet and perhaps on those occasions I will feel more cheery. As it stands, home life is not cheery, tensions are high here and there has been far too much aggression in the air to call this a holly jolly holiday. Interesting, when one considers this might be my last Christmas like this – though I feel perhaps that was considered by everyone present and some perhaps greeted that thought with the silent response of “Thank goodness”, there has been no attempt to bury hatchets here and hostilities are either laid plain or knives are sharpened behind backs. Indeed, perhaps even this blog is my knife, though whom it would cut remains to be seen as my work is met with the most trifling interest by my family.

I apologise, I am a downer on a day of joy, such is my lot. I wish I had stories of charity and cheer to tell and whilst this season has not been an endless suffering on my part, indeed one party was attended and unexpected gifts have been assured to be coming my way yet as it stands, at this time on this day, I feel a black mist grip my soul and drag it back down like always. I look forward to the new year, if only because I have ambitions to drive me and feasible means of achieving some of them and the prospect of being in work again is seemingly more apparent – two employers have expressed great interest in me and once the world of work is back in order then they will hurry to usher me in and get me sorted out as either their new team player or latest addition to the rejection bin.

I have no right to complain, I spent Christmas in a warm home with turkey on my plate, no job to tear me away from my family and there was no actual family tragedy today, just muttered words and a general consensus of “Let’s do this for as long as it is bearable”, with some of us giving up an hour in and some sticking through to dinner before departing. Families do that I suppose, the Christmas card image of a family gathered and united in love is appealing but fairly untrue, especially in homes on the breadline like mine. Ultimately, you must think me a terrible whine, to speak of how poor I find myself and woe is me but you are not obliged to read on, this is merely a personal filling in and as it stands, this is the truth of it – a modest Christmas with a family divided and I am little more than a misery.

I do not know what 2016 will bring. I hope it will be the year that changes everything and intend to work hard to make it so and yet, I have said that much for each year of my life since I left school and here I am. On the upside, with a gym contract I’m obliged to for twelve months, at £9.99 a month, I can at least be depressed and fucking jacked up like a beefcake, I’m too much of a tight git with money to let the best part of £10 vanish from my bank account each month and not turn up at the gym – I’m lazy enough, I don’t intend to charge myself £10 a month to be so.

Still, Christmas is a time to be thankful so let me end on the lighter note as to what I am thankful for. I am thankful to my family for providing me a home and for the efforts they have made for me all year round, to my Dad for being willing to invest in me and help me take my first steps towards revolutionising my work by buying me the equipment. I am thankful to my friends for their steadfast loyalty, especially at this time and whilst the run-up to Christmas would provide many of them valid reason to make less effort, some have made more effort than ever to check that I am okay and provide me with some reason to smile or laugh. Lastly, let me give thanks to the unexpected friends I have found this year, old grudges washed away and casual acquaintances have made new strides to know me better, it is always something that can make me smile.

Merry Christmas everyone, I will provide a 2015 retrospective later this year and in it, I will look back on my year and my plans for 2016, for those who take interest in such matters

Christmas Is Always Coming

So, let’s talk about Christmas, it’s obligatory with it being less than ten days away at this point and I do plan to discuss my actual day of Christmas with you on Christmas as it happens, a sort of sum up like last year followed by a retrospective of my year as a whole. However, for now, let’s discuss Christmas, in particular why some may view me as something of a Scrooge on the topic. I never really partake in festivities to the same degree as my friends – no antlers on my head, no Christmas jumper waiting to be sprung out come December and you’ll never get me singing along to Jingle Bells. A variety of reasons surround this, first and foremost is my social anxiety which insists that although everyone else in the room looks like a colossal dickhead wearing red noses and tinsel scarves, I will be the most dickheadiest of dickheads if I join in, that somehow my foolishness isn’t just fun, it’s utterly disgusting and degrading to watch and people will remember the display as a reason to hold me in slightly less high regard. On the other hand, there are some other reasons I’m not huge on Christmas as a whole, which I’ll cover over the course of this post.

Now, don’t be mistaken in thinking I want December 25th to be just another day on the calendar and we don’t bother at all, that’s not it, I think it’s nice that we all agree to dedicate some time of the year to togetherness and family time and so on – though it sucks to the nth degree not all of us get that. Christmas, forced onto the mainstream by a previously Christian dominated society and now kept around for people of all walks of life due to a combination of tradition and marketing, is fun when you’re in the right setting for it with the right people and resources and so on – hard to be miserable at Christmas when you have all you want. The problem is just that though, Christmas is such a beacon of light and joy that some of us expect it to cast out the negativity simply the grace of existing and we can overlook the pains, struggles and loneliness of our fellow men because we think “It’s Christmas, someone will do something for them and they’ll probably feel better with a belly full of turkey and some nice new trinkets to unwrap”. Here then. we have that phrase, that phrase that is the bane of my life every single year between the end of October and December 26th.

“BUT IT’S CHRISTMAS!”

You know what? So fucking what if it is? We’re aware what time of year it is, which by the way, I resent for creeping earlier and earlier into the year, partly because I’m a November baby and partly because it applies the pressure to be cheerful and excited on depressed folk like me before they’re even in the right frame of mind to adopt false happiness. Christmas isn’t some be all, end all cure to the woes of the world, whatever Bob Geldof insists on telling you. The reality is Santa doesn’t deliver world peace, bosses don’t always let things slide because the big day is coming and not every broken heart finds someone willing to bring them out of the cold, let’s not delude ourselves. If we perpetuate Christmas as being the best thing to happen in a year, it loses that status because we don’t need to do anything, it becomes that for the consumerist masses just by being Christmas – people already have their Christmas spirit pumping without the need for volunteering in a soup kitchen or checking in on their lonesome neighbour who doesn’t have kids to come visit or whatever. By doing that, Christmas becomes less and less like the fairy tales and slips more and more into what cynics like me have been calling it for years – a mass of over-excited meatheads stuffing their faces and buying shit.

So, Christmas lovers, maybe you’re think I’m being a Grinch hmm? I just don’t understand because I’m a misery right? Maybe you’re right, this year is seeing me be the most depressed I’ve been at Christmas time since my schoolboy days, for reasons too personal to disclose here. However, last Christmas (Don’t), I wasn’t as bad, I had money, friends and even though Christmas didn’t happen at my home, I did my fair share of philanthropic gestures and gift giving and even then I STILL wrote an article about how overhyped Christmas is and how unfair it is on children in particular. I love Christmas and that’s speaking as a staunch Atheist to whom Christmas has no religious meaning to give remembrance for, it’s literally just “Winter is shit but hey presents and food happen!”. but I still love this idea of a time in which we stop to think about people and how we can express our love for them, my only concern is that perhaps we lost sight of that.

You know the shpiel here, that Christmas has become about buying affection rather than earning it, in showing love through consoles and laptops rather than actual words of kindness or shows of support and many of you will roll your eyes at the goody two-shoe deal here but it is so important we remember that and we must remember that Christmas isn’t a time of joy for us all, no matter how much you wish it to be. Tragic story time, my Dad when I was young, despised Christmas, so much that seeing decorations filled him with dread and sorrow because to him, it didn’t mean joy and laughter, it meant a time of spending money and fulfilling other people’s dreams because if he didn’t, he had to disappoint them. We had no decorations in our house until Christmas Day itself and they’d come down again afterwards as soon as Dad could manage it, just so he didn’t have to see that tree for one second longer than he had to. I didn’t understand as a child, I don’t think my Dad ever realised that as a kid, I was always happy at Christmas with anything he got me – probably because kids are so shit at being grateful for stuff. We’ve always lived on the breadline in this home and to then have December 25th pop up “JUST A HEADS UP, YOU BETTER SPEND AT LEAST LIKE… £500 ON GIFTS OR PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU DON’T LOVE THEM” when you can barely afford £5, it’s terrifying and makes you resent Christmas as being a toll, a challenge to PROVE your love and selflessness, as if everything else you did all year didn’t count.

Christmas is getting a little too big for its own boots here and stomping on the poor and the heartbroken, it brings joy not only because we are all given what we want and are giving those we love what they want but because everyone looks happy when you push the unhappy ones out of the photo frame. I’m not even going to try and count the number of times my depression has been muddled up with a lack of Christmas spirit, that somehow all this obnoxious corporate money-grabbing and ugly jumper parties should be the strongest mood medication I could ever want. Somehow though, it is not but I still partake in Christmas – gifts have been bought, nice gestures done without the hope of them being returned have been performed and on Christmas Day, as is my tradition, I contact everyone I consider a friend to at least give season’s greetings.

So, what am I saying here, you ask? The article has sort of read as a general guilt-tripping Santa-bashing bitterness sandwich but I guess ultimately, I want you to read this and remember that Christmas in and of itself is not special, Christmas is as special as we make it for ourselves and others. If you think buying lots of stuff is all it takes, well done, you’re nothing more than a patsy Amazon and Wal-Mart will bleed dry year upon year, but Christmas is about charity and charity isn’t just giving to the homeless, it’s showing love. PLEASE take this time to check on people and that they’re ok, if that’s the only genuinely good thing you do that isn’t all about presents, please make sure that miserable fuckers like me are at least safe and comfortable this Christmas. I guarantee you that everyone who hates Christmas has a reason for it and it’s no good telling them to just cheer up; do something that makes this time of year a little easier for them.

Merry Christmas.

Halloween 2015

Hey folks! So you’re perhaps wondering what to expect from this blog for Halloween this year – last year I did a review of Dog Soldiers, the low-budget werewolf film full of one-liners, army soldiers and sword fights so what can I follow that up with for this year? Well if you aren’t aware already, I have been doing a Let’s Play of one of my favourite Halloween-esque video games, Decap Attack. Click the link below to go to my official Facebook page for the playthrough, cut into ten minute chunks. My brother and I sit together discussing bad puns, bad game design and many other weird topics of conversation all whilst playing a nineties gem known for its bizarre style.

https://www.facebook.com/oldmanwolfeofficial

If you find yourself enjoying it, please click like and share on the videos, each share is a new audience I can reach and if these take off, I have plans for a Christmas themed game playthrough – the game in mind has already been chosen, tested and now it sits waiting to be sprung upon my brother in December (He has no idea what the game is)

Now I did want to subject you all to a week full of Halloweeny posts about games and films but my week has been hectic, I’ve either been ill or busy trying to get a job (I actually had a cold for the entire recording of the Let’s Play, you can occasionally hear a cough or sniffle, that’s me). Of course, we’re getting into the season in which everyone is frantic, Christmas is coming whether I like it or not and with my 21st birthday on the horizon, I feel obliged to do something for it but that’s a bitch to organise with slow responses and low income. Basically, sorry, my life is interfering with my blog which is funny because usually it is the other way round!

Fingers crossed though, I have picked up a tacky horror treat to review for Saturday, the actual day of Halloween and it is ridiculous. I won’t give it away and spoil the surprise but this film could well end up on Moviebob’s Shlocktober list and it would not come as a shock to me if it did – assuming it is genuinely bad and not just “Oh look how funny we are, we made a terrible movie” bad. Don’t understand what I mean by that? Well maybe that’s a blog post in itself if I have the time, can’t see why not, film studies is one of my favourite subjects of discussion.

So, I hope that has brought everyone up to date, I’ll keep you posted as best I can. For now though, please go check that link and watch the videos, my brother was very selfless in giving up his time to engage in stupid banter over the incredibly weird game that is Decap Attack. The video is rough, it’s my first ever proper recording/editing job but I’ve done my best with it. Oh, by the way, Let’s Plays aren’t becoming my thing, I promise, these are just for fun, my actual videos will be on YouTube and will occasionally delve into silly topics like games and films but I will of course use the platform of YouTube to make videos of importance. Keep your eyes peeled for that, give it a few years and I’ll probably be making Upworthy share my shit like the plague. Bye for now!

The Possible Plausible Future

I’ve been blogging more recently, riding another wave of ideas in the boom and bust cycle that is the activity upon this blog. You might be wondering, therefore, how long this is going to last? How much life will thrive here before I run out of points to make and go off on another few months hiatus. Well, that’s today’s topic, blogging about blogging itself like a taco within another taco or other such analogies.

Now, since my return, success here, by which I mean traffic reaching levels it once averaged at, or surpassing them – that’s been a mixed bag. The Fragile Man, Passionate Contempt and The Shout have been the most popular new works, besides that Pig Girls Don’t Cry gets googled more often and currently running in last place is the rather more recent Cosby Case. I’m proud of my latest works, Fragile Man especially, I believe it on par with Catcall An End To It, one of my other best works. Going off topic here, the point I’m trying to make is I feel I’m improving so in that sense, I’m successful, but I’m reaching less people, even with the Facebook page. Many factors come into this, posting times and how often I post and how well I promote/tag my work and I understand that but I have a plan and in this plan, I have some surprising help.

Firstly, outside of encouraging you all to like, share and subscribe as often as you can, I’m going to get a Twitter for Old Man Wolfe, it’s an easy way to generate publicity and people are happy to retweet without giving it much thought, Facebook shares seem fewer – perhaps due to the differing natures of the sites. Secondly, I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again, the future of this site is video content on YouTube. I tried my hand at animation but lacked the skill and patience and other such excuses, I might have another go at it but I think it best I opt instead for recording footage of myself. The idea is up in the air but inevitably, it is where I’m headed one day, people have said they’d be happier listening to a podcast (A fun idea in itself) or watching a five to ten minute video than reading two thousand word long essays on this or that, to be fair it’s easier for videos to go viral than written work, sad as that is. I’ve resisted and resisted, partly because my pride is in my writing and partly out of fear of how poorly I’ll represent myself as I don’t much like myself in terms of physical appearance and voice. Warning, if you only know me from my online persona, be prepared to have images shattered as the most surprising trait about me, apparently, is my voice isn’t as deep as the gravity of my words suggest. You might be sat there expecting a voice of authority and strength when in truth I sound more like someone who didn’t make the cut for The Inbetweeners.

I used the words possible and plausible because there are no guarantees but my Dad has stepped in, at last acknowledging both my blog and the internet community, accepting the fact that YouTube and such are the way forward, even going so far as to offer me resources – namely a camera. Context here, I’ve never really had much of a big affair made of my birthday, it’s too close to Christmas for lavish spending and money is tight but it’s made Old Man Wolfe’s old man feel heavy guilt and whilst he thought he’d help get me a car, he quickly realised I don’t have the money for lessons or insurance, none of us do, that’s going to have to wait until I have a proper decent wage. So, we talked and he’s going to try and facilitate my path to fame and wishes me the best, hoping one day I’ll be as infamous an internet presence as Markiplier or Tomska. I’m grateful to him for this and want it to work out, the world wide web is the ultimate platform to preach the points I’ve tried to make to only a small collective thus far. Of course, my dream is to be an acknowledged writer with books on the shelves and TV series based on my ideas out there, possibly other inspired media works like games or films I had a hand in making, a long term goal but not as daft as it might have been once upon a time in a world that quickly sweeps up anything interesting, staying famous is now the harder part rather than becoming so.

Beyond the blog, maybe you’re interested in the other stuff I’m doing right? Book ideas, TDWC’s fate and so on? Well if you are, here’s a rundown real quick. TDWC had two potential paths, one a gritty drama series from the point of view of a new recruit to the demon hunting agency and the other an Archer-inspired comedy about the same agency. I’ve decided to test the former and leave the latter for now, I like both ideas but I’ll see whether I’m better at grit or humour and dedicate Lee Patience and company to whichever I prefer, devising something else for the other. Book ideas, I want to write a fantasy series that bucks the trends and tropes whilst calling upon social themes and I won’t give too much away as I know I’m not the first to come up with such but I don’t want to just put everything up here for grabs by any other aspiring writers. Yes, I am honestly saying I think I have ideas people would steal, I don’t want to take the risk of a more inspired and driven writer seeing a concept I devised and running with it before I can so I then get accused of ripping off my own work. I also have another series idea based on my historical studies and series like Game of Thrones and besides that, a short story or perhaps full length novel based on my true imagination of a dystopia. Once again, hoping to buck trends there with a focus on small victories and individual stories, rather than the inevitable “It’s time for revolution” story line that the likes of the Matrix, Divergent, Hunger Games and so on walk down – I like those stories but truth be told, it’s time for a massive change to the system now and look where that’s going, I am not leading an army of optimistic teenagers whilst wearing form-fitted armour and firing arrows at people.

Ramble ramble ramble, point is, watch this space, I mean it. I talk big talk a lot, I know, I’m sorry, the harshest critic of my efforts is myself and I tear them apart too soon but with more people becoming invested, including my previously uninterested father, I’ve got to stick to it this time. I much prefer a future as a prominent face fighting the feminist agenda whilst publishing books about orcs than I do the future as a hopeless dreamer going from till to till trying to find a job.