I’m going to step out of my comfort zone and make a kind of sappy post. I read most of the popular “MMO” blogs, like Copyblogger, Problogger, Courtney’s Internet Marketing School, along with the inevitable blog of Seth Godin. There are dozens of others that I’m subscribed to.
I’ve always loved reading the comments on these blogs. To be honest, I probably have “better” things to do with my time. But I can’t help but notice the different types of people that the MMO industry attracts.
These are individuals who are thinking outside of the box. They have a concrete idea of what they want, which is more than a lot of people. But not only do they have dreams, they also are in the “plan” or “action” stage, actively attempting to shape their life in the form they want it. It’s nothing short of heroic to see a blogger fail literally a dozen websites, only to pop right back up and start another one.
There are always bad apples, but, as much as they “stick out like a sore thumb”, they’re the minority. The average person trying to make money online is someone who is hard working, creative, passionate, and just wants to make his or her life better. The MMO community is filled with the type of person I find encouraging, endearing and downright /moral/.
You guys are pretty awesome.
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“You’re such a failure”, the fat, ugly woman hissed, gorging herself with another donut she’d just purchased at the counter. She liked her car outside, because she was not a failure. Her car was a great car. She really liked her great car. The bank liked her car too, and they loved that she paid for a little part of it every month.
The elderly man shuffled away from her screams, chuckling to himself, because he darned well wasn’t chuckling to anyone else. “I don’t reckon I want much of that success business”, he said, pulling out his pipe.
“Oh, you don’t! Well, you, you… you are a failure! You aren’t a success like me!” She paused for a second, waiting for him to admit his defeat, his social destruction, and her superiority. He just blinked his eyes and puffed his pipe. He thought she was kind of a moron.
She began pleading. “You don’t have a car like mine, you just drive that old garbage can! And my house is bigger, and my children go to an expensive private school, and you don’t even have a family! What a miserable failure!”
A middle-aged businessman in the back of the shop that they were all at chimed in to help the fat lady. “You know, she’s got a point. You’ve failed old man. I mean, you just come in here and sit for an hour every morning. You’ve had your whole life to work hard and to become something, and to make everyone else happy. And what did you do? You just work that part time job, and come in here every morning to smoke that darned pipe, and read a novel from the library. Just what do you think you’re doing?”
The old man thought this was all pretty funny. He didn’t talk to people much. Never quite saw the need. The people he saw who talked to other people, well, they looked busy and depressed, even though they were always smiling and grinning when with other people. Seemed kind of like some sort a game, and he wasn’t too fond of games, you see. So he just didn’t play it.
The world was always on cue for them, and they acted their parts incredibly well. It was great becuase the audience was always crying with the drama, screaming with the anger, and laughing with the comedy that no one calls the game. The game isn’t over, and it can’t be over. Games and acting, lies and laughing, welcome to your worldly success.
He stood up slowly, put on his old Wal-Mart cap, and began to move across the room. The people who were watching the little social exploitation by the fat lady and the businessman were expecting a defense or a speech, just like you see on TV.
But, see, the old man didn’t watch much TV, and didn’t know they wanted him to be an idiot, and reason without reason, so he just kept walking. He dumped his trash, refilled his coffee and walked out the door.
He never really liked people, thought they were kind of odd. They never liked him, thought he was kind of odd. This sealed it.
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I once knew an old man who liked to go on walks alone. I never really got that, people have always been my thing. Whenever I would drive by him, I’d slow down to wave, just to see him stop and stand up all proud and straight and look back at me. I never really got that, he took life so seriously. He returned every look right back eye-to-eye, just to show he was ready for anyone and everything. What a proud, silly old man.
A few years later, I went to that man’s funeral. He didn’t know he had one, because he was dead. He looked just as serious in that casket, though he wasn’t really there. I never really got that, I don’t want people to look at me when I’m not really there. But there he was, as proud as ever.
And I heard the speeches, of a man who was a savior, of a man who once defended what was soon to be my land. And I know it’s kind of mushy, to cry about a country, but I tell you I proudly did. They said he was a hero, they said he was leader, they said he was all that a soldier could ever possibly achieve. And then I finally “got” him.
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So the other day I was thinking about what I would say if I knew that I could write one letter, or a note, to the whole world, and know that they’d read it.
Well, there’s so much that I want to say about all of the important things that make life what it is. Something tells me that the “Christian” last letter would be to say something about living for God, but I know that it’ll take a hey of a lot more than this note to convince anyone of anything like that. I know the “freedom” loving letter would be something along the lines of asking for a defense of social and economic liberty, but that’d take even longer than talking about religion.
So when it comes right down to it, I guess there really isn’t any cliche statement that needs to be said that can be said in just a few paragraphs. So instead of convincing the world of any idea, instead of addressing you all as people who need convincing — I’ll just say some words to the people that probably could use some encouragement.
The people that I’m writing to are the heroic individuals who aren’t blind followers. I would expound a little more, but, that’s just exactly who I’m talking to. So here we go:
Whenever you see a group of people laughing at you because they think your shoes just aren’t quite up to par, it’s okay. Their shoes probably suck as well, and the people in charge of fashion and trends just don’t know it yet. Give it 12 months, and the popular opinion will be on your side.
Whenever you see a politician talking out of his rear, making up stuff so that the fools of the world will give him a few more months of that sweet power, just know that something is terribly amiss. You’ll be heads above the rest if you do that, at least. Most people don’t even know that there’s something wrong with the man. Or woman.
Whenever you see that pastor asking his people to be blind, and to be proud of their ignorance, or when you see him arrogantly defending some doctrine that doesn’t matter at all, while he props himself up in his little empire that they call the church… it’s okay. By his own standards, he’s going to get what he deserves for it all in the end.
Whenever you see that person that puts a bad taste in your mouth, but you know that they have hundreds of “friends”, and they could destroy you and make you look bad without even trying…just remember: they’re more miserable than all the people they hurt for sport.
Whenever you feel like you just can’t do something, and you feel down about yourself, and you are beating yourself over the head, and you wish you had someone to give you a hug, but no one wants to hug you… chances are, you deserve the pain. There’s no place for pointless self-pity. Get over it. Happiness is a choice. Be who you want to be, then deal with the consequences.
Whenever you see a Christian reference a popular junk-food “devotional” book, while they say that faith doesn’t make sense, that God is above “human logic” and that we have to utterly “abandon ourselves”…and then they walk away and buy some nice pants, and a shirt that they saw some famous person wear, and then they go back to their life and their pursuit of that Mac and the nice cell-phone, and they can’t wait for that wonderful drink at Starbucks, and they keep on living so differently than the trash they read — it’s okay. They know you’re right. They just don’t know it yet.
Whenever you’re in a crowd of people, and you feel funny because everyone is expecting you to do something, and you aren’t quite sure what that is, and then they end up laughing at you because you used a word in a way that they weren’t expecting, or you blurted out an obvious truth and they want to play their cowardly little games — it’s okay. The jokes on them. They just don’t get it yet.
In the end, just remember that it’s okay to be you and to not be everyone else. It’s okay to start your sentences with “I” instead of “We”. It’s okay to laugh at the guy who has the big audience, and is making a lot of money with some lies to the people who just want something easy to believe.
You’re on the right track. Just don’t fall away, and join the ranks of the people who actually think that if you wear the right kind of pants you’re a cool person, or if your glasses don’t look nerdy then you really aren’t, or that your car makes you something, or that saying the “right” thing is really the right thing at all. Just don’t give in to them. You haven’t yet. Ideas do matter. You are right. It’s okay to be a “just me”.
So what would you say? Pour your guts out.
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Working at home has its perks. Like waking up in your office. It just simplifies life. Your office is, well, your home. Considering I’m still in high-school, my office is still my little home, or my bedroom. Keeping the office /feeling/ like an office is helpful and more to keeping one’s perspective right. A productive environment encourages productivity.
Take some pictures of your workspace, and post them on your blog and let me know so I can link to the post.
My Office
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As many of you know, I love blogging about Making Money Online — it’s a great hobby and part-time job for me. I’ve bought a lap-top and some other cool stuff with my income generated through my blogs. I’m the main author and operator of Reason and Capitalism, Rebirth of Freedom, Money Talks, Rational Christianity and several other blogs.
However, I’m thinking about merging several of them. My “Money Talks” blog is located at ShaunConnell.com/make-money-online. The URL is, well, obviously hard to remember. So I’m thinking about doing the following:
1. Turning “ShaunConnell.com/make-money-online” into a static tutorial on making money online. The blog part will be zapped out.
2. Turning ShaunConnell.com into a blogging-blog — a blog about business, money, making money online and the like.
3. Having 1-2 off-topic posts per week on ShaunConnell.com, both to spicen the site up, and simply as an outlet for my random ideas that I think the readers might appreciate.
4. All political writings will go to the RoFF.
5. All philosophical/religious writings will go to Rational Christianity.
6. All personal writings go to my facebook account.
Thoughts? I’ll obviously have to rename the blog to something else, like “Money Talks” or something similar. Any suggestions?
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I have really strange taste in music. I like Irish Punk, classic rock, classical music period, heavy, and pretty much everything in between. The following song by My Chemical Romance is one of my favorites. It’s about a man who’s on his deathbed, and is thinking back on his favorite memory, when his father took him to a parade, and asked him to use his life to help others. The first lyrics are simply incredible.
Welcome To The Black Parade Lyrics
When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band.
He said,
“Son when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?”
He said
“Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non believers, the plans that they have made?”
Because one day I leave you,
A phantom to lead you in the summer,
To join the black parade.”
When I was a young boy,
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band.
He said,
“Son when you grow up, will you be the saviour of the broken,
The beaten and the damned?”
Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me.
And other times I feel like I should go.
Through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets.
When you’re gone we want you all to know We’ll Carry on,
We’ll Carry on
Though your dead and gone believe me Your memory will carry on
Carry on
We’ll carry on
And in my heart I cant contain it
The anthem wont explain it.
And we will send you reeling from decimated dreams
Your misery and hate will kill us all
So paint it black and take it back
Lets shout it loud and clear
Do you fight it to the end
We hear the call to
To carry on
We’ll carry on
Though your dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We’ll carry on
And though you’re broken and defeated
You’re weary widow marches on
And on we carry through the fears
Ooh oh ohhhh
Disappointed faces of your peers
Ooh oh ohhhh
Take a look at me cause
I could not care at all Do or die
You’ll never make me
Cause the world, will never take my heart
You can try, you’ll never break me
Want it all,
I’m gonna play this part
Wont explain or say i’m sorry
I’m not ashamed,
I’m gonna show my scar
You’re the chair, for all the broken Listen here,
because it’s only
I’m just a man,
I’m not a hero
Just a boy, who’s meant to sing this song
Just a man,
I’m not a hero
I — don’t — care
Carry on
We’ll carry on
Though your dead and gone believe me
Your memory will carry on
We’ll carry on
And though you’re broken and defeated
You’re weary widow marches on
We’ll carry on
We’ll carry on
We’ll carry on
We’ll carry
We’ll carry on
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This is long, but it’s incredibly amazing. You need to watch it. A professor discovered that he only had a few months to live, and is prepared to deliver his last lecture. He doesn’t pout, or whine — he says he wants to have fun with the rest of his time on earth. Incredibly encouraging. Incredibly inspiring. It’s no wonder, because he’s an incredible man.
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Earlier this week I was contacted by Andrew Axsom who has recently changed candidates. Rather than support Ron Paul, he introduced me to another mainstream candidate who:
1. Will be tough on crime
2. Will be tough on terror
3. Wants to end welfare
This candidate dedicated his life to good and justice after a tragedy in his life. He’s an American hero and and I support him 100% in his quest for the White House.
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I woke up, startled, felt feverish. It was only three in the morning. The darkness was more potent than usual and I couldn’t see a thing. He was talking to me again. But I didn’t believe in the voices in my soul, because I knew they weren’t real.
Good God!, I screamed at those who didn’t exist. Why do you haunt me? Why can I not live on the basis of the rational truth? I felt the universe chuckle, as though this was a cosmic-wide joke. I knew what reality was saying to me, that I had no point, and that empty feeling didn’t exist, and that I was the happiest man in the world. It was a joke, and reality was laughing.
I didn’t lay back because there was no use in trying to sleep. I can never fall asleep again after waking up in the middle of the night. Sitting up, I pretended that my mind was not screaming in agony. I’ll shrug off self-denial as long as I can, and no one will ever know. Maybe I can even fool me.
What’s wrong?, He asked, knowing the answer. I decided to pray one last time, no one had to know that I prayed all the time. I’m sure they always prayed at night. Everyone prays when alone, just to give the idea a second shot, I justified.
God if you’re there, Oh my God, save me from me, save my life from being spent. I knew that He wasn’t there as he held my hand. I love you, said one shadow, figments of my imagination. What are you doing, I screamed, how dare you wrestle with my mind? Why have I gone mad, I cried, the tears had come again — I hate crying, because I know I’m not a weak person.
But my mind loved the frolic. It’s all just a game, I guess. The universe looked as though it were about to speak a profound truth, before uttering that which I knew was true as I lied to me. Then all spoke. You ask me who I am. Some men build houses. Some men paint pictures. I am the one who sets the captive free.
Then set me free oh my GOD! Don’t allow my burn in the hell of life, I am the one who asks to be set free, don’t pass me God, make me believe you, make me trust you, fulfill in me all that I cannot fulfill myself. Wretched chains, dirty rags, unbelieving soul — save me.
And our journey began.
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Keeping the office /feeling/ like an office is helpful and more to keeping one’s perspective right. A productive environment encourages productivity.
