5 things worse than a listicle
1. An open letter to …
Nope. Not reading another “open letter to …” anyone. What the hell is an open letter anyway? Aren’t all articles/essays/posts an “open” content piece? “Open letters” smack of entitlement. Who the fuck are you to be telling us how it is? How is it that you are allowed to eschew the principles of what makes a good headline by qualifying what you’re about to say as an “open letter”? Does that mean you get a pass? You are not to be judged on the quality of your words because you only wrote an “open letter”?
It’s the written equivalent of “just sayin’.”
If you’re writing an “open letter,” I’m not reading it. If you write a better, braver headline, I might. Get to the point and take a stand. Join me, won’t you?
2. The bizarro mind fuck
Holy shit. What? Your stratospheric, oh-so-meta (?) linguistic, orgiastic, babbling journey seems to have one goal in mind. I mean, I have no idea what it is, but it clearly isn’t to get you and the reader to join hands in kumbaya-tastic harmony. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.
Just shut up and dance with me? Help us to the bass and fading light. Mambo banana face dog patch. Psinder kilder merkely. Meanwhile, link. In the moonlight. Fighting with the night. It’s a rip-off. Kissing all the slain. I’m bleeding in the rain. Such a rip-off. Lunch, everyone.
Did you see what I did there? Of course not. Because you’re not still reading. You’re checked out and thinking about more important things like what to do about dinner. You missed my self-referential-by-way-of-commentary-elevation-of-self-to-same-strata-as-real-artists deconstruction / shallow space-filler of pop culture thefts. Oooh, look. I did it again. Is that now meta meta? Am I genuinely clever or just fucking with you?
Yes. But with better hygiene.*
3. The rambling confessional
My most favorite, best bit of writing I ever produced for possible human consumption was flatly rejected. Why? Well, I was told it “meandered.” It’s true. It did. I foolishly believed that might be OK. It wasn’t. Even though I dove deep into the shallow waters of me, offered what I thought were real and relatable points that other Medium contributors/readers would find interesting, it will never see the light of day.
When you’re rambling, it ain’t good even if it is good. Too bad. I took down some assholes that were in need of being taken down. I praised a few people that were worthy. It remains a waste of time and effort. Like the written equivalent of a jam band.
4. A “here’s the secret” article
You all make me feel stupid. And lazy. And uninformed. And worthless. And late. And gullible.
It’s like investment advice, isn’t it? If someone has taken the time and effort to write this “tip,” isn’t it A) already too late and B) effectively in use by the people who have the machinery to execute on it far stronger than you? The answer is yes. And that’s the real secret.
5. Not fulfilling your promises
There is no rule five. Or six.
© julian rogers | Juju Eye Communications
* Who the fuck knows at this point? Shame on you for still reading.
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