Why We DO What We Do

Here’s why we do what we do. When you come on myspace.com and you’ve got a band or a book or I don’t know–a fucking short film or whatever that you’re trying to promote, you really feel like you have something that people will dig, like you have something worthwhile that will possibly be life-altering in somebody’s life in some minute way, if peeps will just give it a second of their time, just realize that it isn’t all half-baked nonsense. All of us think this or we wouldn’t be wasting our time–let alone yours–with the often thankless (though thankfully sometimes very rewarding) task of getting people who have never heard of you to give your creative endeavors a shot. All of us self-promoters are in this boat. And percentages tell us that if there’s a hundred people on your friends list who are pushing one thing or another, at the very least a good 50% have to be pushing something that is still far FAR from being ready for public consumption. Then of the remaining 50% that might be worth half a fuck, half of that stuff is not to your specific tastes. So what’s that leave? Like 25%, ON THE HIGH END? 1 in 4? So one in four books or bands or poets or conceptual artists are possibly worth a deeper look.

“Well, Frank,” you say, “even though those might be halfway decent odds that I’m not completely wasting my time when I pause to check out some struggling artist’s shit, you’re not taking into account the fact that I already have a shit-pile of books piled in the corner and on the dining room table and on the back of the toilet that I’m trying to work through by authors that are already published. I have a ton of CDs I don’t even listen to anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever even been in the market for art. Posters are the new art, weren’t you ever in college?” That may be so, but I look at it like this–and pay close attention to this part, ’cause this is the part where the camera slowly, almost imperceptibly, zooms in on the face of the guy talking with cigarette smoke swirling around his head:

How did those books get published? How did those bands get record deals? How did Carmen Electra’s tits get big enough to warrant a whole fucking line of posters? Fact is, there’s very little real shit out there anymore. By the time most of the shit you buy gets to your brain it’s been compromised and reconstituted to the point that it isn’t IT any more. And any time you support one of us losers trying to break through, you make it a very real possibility that something genuine, something authentic is actually going to break through all the bullshit and make a fucking mark.

Over the next few months you are going to have the opportunity, should you decide to hang with me and get on board this thing, to talk to a bunch of writers and artists who are the real motherfucking deal. You are going to be able to take part in a real, true-life grassroots movement to make authors and other artists more in touch with readers and anyone else who appreciates the tenets of good art and authentic movements, to get good art in the hands of the very few of us left who still venerate the TRUE, the ruddy salt of the earth type stuff that too often gets watered down before it has a chance to truly make a mark. There are some very powerful and well-known authors and other artists who very much believe in this ideal, who want to kick against the pricks (no pun intended) and take us back a few years–decades–to where life imitated art and the shit that truly matters makes its way back into the bloodstream of art and life. Into the bloodstream of America. It has always started with people like us. That is what all this expression is about, anyway. Isn’t it? Because for me it isn’t just some fucking soundtrack to play while driving down the highway, a soundtrack that I turn off when I dutifully march to my 8X8 cubicle every morning. And it isn’t for you either. That’s why you started reading, started coming by here in the first place, ain’t it? Because somehow we see life in these same terms, more or less.

The time for complaint is over, the time for doing something about the social and spiritual atrophy is now. The time for action is upon us. I mean, for the love of Christ, it’s been 15 YEARS since there was anything even halfway resembling an artistic and/or social upheaval in this country.

I’ll be in my *new and improved* chatroom tonight from 9-11 EST should you decide you’d like to discuss shit like this some more.

Talk soon.
~Frank
www.myspace.com/nfrankdaniels

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1 Comment

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One response to “Why We DO What We Do

  1. N. Frank Daniels

    Yeah, no shit, right? And they call me sarcastic…..

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