I suppose this is the part where I am meant to say something along the lines of "Like!" and "Subscribe!" or "Strike sonorous the Bell of Notification!" but I won't, I simply won't, darn-you-all-to-heck. So, without further ado, I present a little thing I like to call The Rules Manicule, which is half-tutorial, half-entertainment and not at all intended to be official or be-all/end-all lest I run afoul of copyright infringement. I simply see no other way to validate my online existence but via the anonymous and antiseptic pseudo-adulation of complete and utter strangers in a virtual environment that is so far removed from actual, human contact that it probably borders on slightly concerning mental disorder.* And now you can add this tenuous web-log brand to that list of proud, wide-minded individuals, for today I come to you not by way of grandiloquent screed but through sheer, kinetic hypnotism of the motion picture talky.ĭid I have reservations about sharing my work through a different medium? Was I unsure of the quality, quantity, and reception of it all? Naturally! But did I recoil from the self-inflicted stress of it all, the needlessly self-crippling uncertainty and self-doubt and -loathing inherent in every aspect of this demented and overwhelming monomania of mine under which I have laboriously self-obsessed for two and a half weeks straight? You bet! What do all of these things have in common? That's right, they're all working to broaden horizons. Those convex mirrors in the corners of gas stations. A young child learning the subtle art of the little white lie.
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