Blogging Like It's 2004
Ah, but not Blogger. It’s still here and almost the same as it was when I started blogging in 2004.
But, like, don’t you know all the cool kids are on Substack now (and the even cooler kids are on Ghost and beehiiv)?
Yep. I’m aware. My inbox is a daily gauntlet of newsletter posts. And that’s all from just the free tiers.
But, like, don’t you wanna make money from your writing like they do?
Nope. Not unless I can make mountains of the stuff. And we all know that almost no writer is doing that.
Here’s the deal. I’m sick. Like, really sick. Like, so sick I spend all but 3-4 hours a day in bed. Like, so sick I only leave my home a few times a year when I need health care my primary care provider—who makes housecalls—can’t provide. And I’ve been that way for nearly a quarter of a century (though for the first few years I was a little bit more functional and less homebound).
Needless to say, illness means I can’t provide the dependable labor that makes lots of surplus value for capital. In 2001, the Social Security Administration concurred (though it took them until 2003 to do so). I was economically useless enough to require the beneficence of taxpayers in the form of a disability benefit. Because I had the temerity to become disabled before I had racked up ten years of work credits/FICA contributions, and because I had no other financial resources (a trust fund, other residual income, a working spouse), they would support me through a welfare program known as Supplemental Security Income (SSI).
SSI is heavily means-tested. I have to report income above $85, at which point they deduct from my monthly check a dollar for every two dollars that I make—that is, a few months after I fill out forms reporting that income. Plus I also have to notify SNAP (and fill out more forms) so they can reevaluate my monthly food stamp benefit. And notify my building management (and fill out more forms) so they can reevaluate my rent because I live in low-income housing. As you can see, income for me gets very complicated very quickly.
And frankly, all my needs are met. Yes, SSI is notoriously parsimonious (the monthly benefit for 2026 is $994 while the $2000 resource limit—which includes that monthly benefit!—limits my ability to save). But I am lucky. I have subsidized housing in which I cannot pay more (nor less) than 30% of my income. I have the aforementioned SNAP benefits that pay for much of my food. I have the Oregon Health Plan (OHP Plus), our state’s Medicaid program, which pays for most of my medical care at no cost to me. I get help with electricity through a program for low-income customers as well as an annual grant from the Low-Income Home Energy Assistance Program (LIHEAP)—though for how long is anyone’s guess given that DOGE fired every single person in the federal LIHEAP office during its blitzkrieg last year. CenturyLink gives me low-cost (and low bandwidth—10 MBPS) internet. My Obama phone keeps me in touch with Social Security and my case manager, along with friends and family including frequent texts from my aging mother that are either incomprehensible or reporting yet another fall.
Are there things I wish I could have if I had more money? Sure. Camborzola cheese, smoked salmon, fancy loose leaf tea. Luxurious pajamas. Paid Substack subscriptions (I know! What am I thinking?!). Writing workshops. Indian bone-inlay furniture and antique fixtures for my apartment. Plane tickets for my Internet Boyfriend to visit more. Books (always).
But do I need any of them? Alas, no. Though a good case might be made for the plane tickets. Tucked into a parenthesis a few paragraphs above, I noted that Social Security considers working spouses to be a financial resource. If I marry, I lose SSI. Quite likely Medicaid (or at least the fully-funded OHP I have now). Probably housing. Complicating it further, my Internet Boyfriend is British. To get a spousal visa, I would have to prove on the application that should my Beloved be unable to work, I would be able to support him without him being a recourse to public funds. Which, being a recourse to public funds myself, would be impossible (immigration is a lot harder than many people think!). And so for nearly twenty-four years we’ve made do with Yahoo Messenger and outrageously-priced phone cards and Vonage and Skype and now Google Chat along with plenty of plane tickets. That would be the reason I would want to make mountains of money: to be wealthy enough to not only not need SSI but to be able to sponsor a spousal visa for my Beloved. But unless the Magic Health Fairy sprinkles a lot of pixie dust on me, that is far far far out of reach.
But, like, Blogger doesn’t have the SEO reach of other blogging platforms. Don’t you want people to find your blog?
Sure. Though it’s not my primary concern. Those other blogging platforms either have quite the learning curve or a monthly fee or are located in a certain country currently engaged in genocide.
I like the idea of returning to my roots. Of having my own semi-hidden space on the Internet where if you know about it, you’ll come and enjoy a genuine community (I do miss the little circle we had here back in the day). Of experimenting, developing my own theory of blogging as I return to writing.
Because, of course, I have no idea if and/or for how long I’ll be able to stick with this blogging thing again.
So, like, why are you starting to blog again now?
My last post here, back in 2014, was titled ever so hopefully “Hiatus.” After a few years, I began to accept that it should have been “Goodbye.” I was getting sicker and my ability to write erratic to non-existent. Besides, who wanted to read the ramblings of some shut-in trying to give hot takes that were not especially original? There was so much better, more amazing writing online (if even far more that was mediocre or worse). And there was also micro-blogging, i.e. Twitter. Which is where most people were spending their time rather than writing and reading blogs.
Over the last seventeen months, I’ve started being able to write again. The sort of stuff that involves devoted attention to craft, that grapples with big philosophical and spiritual questions, that requires cracking open lots of books (even though my eyeballs are still saying “audiobooks, please!”). You know, pretentious shit that tries to be all artistic.
But maybe I never did give up on “hiatus.”
Blogging allows me to write in a way that isn’t so pretentious but is still a bit more crafted than a journal entry. Perhaps I can talk here about issues related to and the progress I’m making on essays I’m working on and post the stuff that doesn’t make it into those essays but may still be of interest to readers. Perhaps I can also play around with different ways of engaging an audience. Though I’m still unsure what that will entail (I hear everybody loves cat videos?).
I’m also dipping my little piglets into various social media platforms to see if any of them feel social to me. Basically 2026 is the year in which I try to Rip Van Winkle myself into social media. As I don’t know why my neural writing networks have turned on again (menopause? iron-infusions to treat long-standing anemia? Magic Health Fairy dust?), I don’t know if it will last. And perhaps I’m too late to online socializing. Maybe everyone else is rushing for the door to “touch grass” now that the AI apocalypse is nigh.
“For us there is only the trying,” says T.S Eliot in his poem “East Coker.” “The rest is not our business.”
This is me trying. The rest is not my business.
But, like, now I want to keep reading your blog. How can I get it delivered to my inbox like a Substack newsletter?
Still going on about Substack, are ya?
Well, dear reader, I’m flattered. Both that you made it this far and that you wanna keep hanging out with me. I think I may have found a solution to our newsletter dilemma. If I've popped the right code in (thank or blame ChatGPT for the results), you should see a request to hang out with me in your inbox.
But I fear there will be a lot of construction on this blog in the coming months. I hope you won't mind the dust and disorientation.
Comments