“Can’t serve god & Mammon” pretty well sums it up. I used to feel my writing here was — if not an ingredient — at least a bit of seasoning in a lovely stew but post-paywall (& let’s face it, that’s what it amounts to… “monetization” by any other name & all that) my own previous sense of ‘obligation’ has slipped off into the night’s fog of locked 1–3min reads, most of my favorite writers seldom breathing free air & a Daily Digest that gives me indigestion. (And the very idea that writers whose work I’ve long respected & cheered on have succumbed to a Ponzi scheme that probably nets them about $1.37 per piece these days is disheartening.)
In Si-Fi, “air taxes” on space stations & the like is a regular trope, but I always identify with the underground freeloaders. No doubt I will still write something here now & again (though it’s been well over two months now since my enthusiasm has been truly sparked) but I no longer gaze at the sky in search f falling tractors.
For the good of all, I cannot support your work by sending photos of myself in underwear…I haven’t worn underwear for over 50yrs. (Though I believe I may still own a pair of jockey shorts to wear to medical exams, I’m not sure I can find them.)
Bob Dylan remains in his traditional place — out of the picture. I inhabit the same zone, but never bump into him. I am, however, looking forward to more Gutbloom in 2018. ~ Mc