564 Blogs And Still Annoying People On The Internet

Yesterday I got 268 visitors to my blog.

Now, before anyone starts applauding, let me point out that the day before I had considerably more. In the world of blogging, this means I spent several hours behaving exactly like a share market analyst watching a stock crash.

I checked the statistics repeatedly.

Maybe the counter was broken.

Maybe Google had accidentally disconnected Australia from the internet.

Maybe everyone had collectively decided to go outside and enjoy their lives.

The possibilities were endless.

The strange thing about writing online is that you start out convinced you're writing because you have something to say. Then somewhere along the way you find yourself refreshing analytics at ten o'clock at night wondering why David from Nebraska hasn't read your latest masterpiece about social media, narcissists or the collapse of modern civilisation.

Apparently, my self-worth is now directly tied to a graph. This is probably not healthy. When I started blogging years ago, I didn't even know what analytics were. I wrote things because I got to laugh my ass off. If ten people read them, fantastic. If nobody read them, I still had a laugh writing them – that was my biggest laugh actually.

Now I can tell you exactly how many people visited, where they came from, what they clicked on, how long they stayed and precisely when they got bored and wandered off to watch cat videos.

Knowledge is not always a blessing.

One day you feel like a literary genius because 2,000 people read a post about true crime. The next day only 268 people turn up and suddenly you're convinced your career is over and you'll die alone surrounded by unpublished blog posts and empty coffee cups.

It's ridiculous. The truth is, 268 people is still a lot of people. If 268 people walked into my lounge room and asked me to entertain them, I'd have a nervous breakdown. Yet online we somehow convince ourselves it's not enough.

Human beings are greedy creatures. Give us ten readers and we want a hundred. Give us a hundred and we want a thousand. Give us a thousand and we're disappointed it wasn't two thousand. Nothing is ever enough.

So today I've decided to be grateful for my 268 visitors. Thank you to all 268 of you.

Especially the one person in Brazil who appears to read absolutely everything I write. I don't know who you are, but at this point we're practically family.

The rest of you can lift your game. I'll be checking the stats later. 😏

AI - The Sky Is Falling!

The other night I had a friend over for dinner and as invariably happens, it ends up with a lively debate. She doesn't use AI... Which is probably healthy. But I spend ten minutes asking ChatGPT whether a Facebook miracle cure is bullshit (and 90% are crap!) 

She spends three hours watching cat videos and people fighting in supermarket car parks. Let's not pretend either of us is saving the rainforest. 😊  

The water usage isn’t the argument! But it is with everyone I speak too about AI.  A lot of people see headlines about AI using water and assume that every question is somehow draining a reservoir. The reality is much less dramatic. The environmental impact is real, but it's also part of a much bigger conversation about how we power and cool all the technology we use every day.

The better question is:

"Is the value we get from it worth the resources it consumes?"

That's the same question we ask about agriculture, transport, manufacturing, air conditioning, football stadiums, and just about every modern convenience. All of which uses water.

I’d say the argument should be around people. The number of authors that had their work stolen. Or musicians. Anything creative.

But the really terrifying truth is that in the newspaper yesterday (online) talked of the 80 plus jobs that are/will be defunct thanks to AI. Idiot men, thanks to them, lots of people will be out of work.

It’s okay for the Elon Musk’s of the world! It’s even okay for me who is at the end of my work life! But I think about anyone with young children; and how bleak it must seem.

Yes, AI uses resources. So does Netflix, Google, Facebook, air conditioning, online gaming, and half the things we do every day. The real question is whether the benefit is worth the cost.

Modern Society Rewards Loud Mouthed Narcissists

I’ve started to suspect that modern society doesn’t just tolerate narcissists; it rewards them. In fact, if you gave a narcissist a handbook titled How To Take Over The World, it would probably just be a copy of the latest thing... Think about it.

We now live in a world where confidence is often mistaken for competence. The loudest person in the room is assumed to be the smartest. The person talking constantly about their achievements is seen as successful. The person posting endless photos of themselves staring thoughtfully into the distance apparently possesses wisdom that the rest of us can only dream of.

Meanwhile, the genuinely talented person is sitting quietly in the corner wondering if they should apologise for existing. Social media has poured petrol on this fire.

Once upon a time, being obsessed with yourself was considered a character flaw. Your mother would tell you to stop showing off. Your friends would roll their eyes and tell you to pull your head in. (and those of us in the real world, would still say it)

Now? You can build an entire career from taking photos of yourself in a skin tight tracksuit while holding a smoothie.

The internet has created a system where attention is money, and narcissists are natural-born millionaires. They don't suffer from self-doubt. They don't spend three hours wondering if their email sounded rude. They don't lie awake at 2am replaying a conversation from 1998. (like I do)

They simply wake up every morning convinced they are fabulous; and entitled.

The thing is that narcissists often look successful because they're willing to do things most normal people won't. They'll promote themselves relentlessly. They'll claim expertise they don't have. They'll take credit for group efforts. They'll step over people without losing a second of sleep. Many decent people struggle because they're busy worrying about whether they're inconveniencing someone by existing. (they are the people we won’t kill when we take over the world…)

I've worked with people who could barely operate a stapler but somehow convinced everyone they were strategic visionaries. They spoke in corporate buzzwords, nodded thoughtfully during meetings, and managed to climb organisational ladders like caffeinated possums.

Politics isn't much better…

The danger is that we begin to mistake narcissism for leadership.

Real leadership isn't standing on a stage demanding applause. It isn't posting motivational quotes over photos of yourself. It isn't telling everyone how important you are. Real leadership is usually much quieter.

It's showing up. Doing the work. Taking responsibility when things go wrong.

Most of the genuinely impressive people I've met spend very little time telling you how impressive they are.

The narcissists, however, will happily provide a PowerPoint presentation.

We're constantly being told to build our personal brand, promote ourselves, create content, become influencers, optimise our image and market our lives. At some point we stopped asking whether someone was kind, decent or trustworthy and started asking how many followers they had.

Maybe the real rebels these days aren't the people shouting for attention. Maybe they're the people quietly getting on with life.

Being decent human beings when nobody is watching.

Everyone Has A Journey Now

I swear everyone has a journey these days.

Not a holiday. Not a bad week. Not a phase. A journey.

You can't simply decide to eat more vegetables. No. You are now on a wellness journey. You don't start jogging. You're on a fitness journey. You don't buy a budget planner because you've spent too much money on rubbish from Facebook. You're on a financial journey. (I should be on one of those!)

Everything has become a journey.

Personally, I think most of us are just wandering around lost. I know I am. Just trying to muddle my way through life!

I see people online announcing life-changing transformations because they've spent three days drinking green smoothies and writing affirmations on their phone.

Three days.

I've had colds that lasted longer than some people's personal growth. The internet is full of people explaining how they became enlightened after a weekend retreat involving herbal tea and mindfulness.

Meanwhile, some of us are just trying to remember why we walked into the kitchen.

I particularly enjoy the wellness crowd. Oh and the influencers! Don’t even get me started on being an “influencer”.

Apparently, all my problems can be solved if I purchase a supplement/tonic/bullshit; available for only $29.99 a month plus shipping. Conveniently, they also sell it.

I have reached an age where if somebody says they're on a wellness journey, I immediately assume they're about to try and sell me something.

The reality is that life isn't a journey.

It's mostly a series of unexpected events, wrong turns, forgotten passwords, mystery subscriptions and trying not to fall over while carrying a cup of coffee. Some days you're winning. Some days you're looking for your glasses while they're sitting on your head. And that's okay.

Not everything has to be a journey. Sometimes you're just a person having a Saturday.

Why Is Every Product Is Now A Subscription?

I have spent the last few weeks trying to cancel ridiculous subscriptions I didn't even realise I had. At this point, I am fairly certain I am financially supporting half the internet.

It starts innocently enough.

You buy something online. A program. An app. A service. A thing that promises to organise your life, improve your photos, teach you Italian, make you fitter, thinner, smarter or somehow transform you into a better version of yourself (and I’ve tried them all!)

You click "Buy Now." What you don't realise is you've actually entered into a lifelong financial relationship with some fucker that you can’t get in touch with!

Nothing belongs to you anymore. You don't buy software, music or television. You rent it. Soon I'll be subscribing to socks. For just $14.99 a month, a fresh pair will arrive at your door along with a motivational quote and a reminder that cancelling requires a court order.

The best part is trying to leave. It takes days to track down an email address. Signing up takes approximately six seconds! Cancelling requires the determination of a hostage negotiator.

The button is never where you think it should be. If there is one at all! You click Account. Not there. Settings. Not there. Billing. Still not there. Eventually you're directed to a page that says: "We're sorry to see you go, but your next giraffe is already in the mail, so you'll need to pay for that one first."

No, you're not. If you were sorry, you'd let me leave.

Instead, I'm forced to answer seventeen questions about why I want to cancel. The truth is because I have absolutely no idea who you are and I’ve got 16 bottles of lymph node stuff already! Apparently six months ago I thought your service would change my life. Today I can't even remember what it does, or it was just more crap that didn’t work.

The internet has become a giant collection of tiny monthly payments quietly draining our bank accounts while we sleep.

Five dollars here. Ten dollars there. Seven dollars somewhere else. Before long you're spending enough each month to adopt a small horse.

These days I think the safest approach is simple. If someone offers me a free trial, I run. If someone wants my bank details, I become suspicious. And if something promises to change my life for only $9.99, I immediately start looking for the words "per month" hidden somewhere in microscopic writing at the bottom of the page. I assume it's about to become another subscription I'll spend three weeks trying to cancel.

Because if experience has taught me anything, it's that the internet isn't trying to change my life. It's trying to bill me for it!

Ahhhh - For my next blog, I was thinking: 

How To Stay Away From The Light

A practical guide for people who have had enough medical procedures to qualify as frequent flyers.  :)