Create. You know…whatever.

Create things.  Don’t always consume stuff that’s already been created.

Make something that wasn’t here before, even if it sucks.  (Kind of like this blog post.)

You can do it.

It’s work and takes effort, and you’re flying without a net when you make sh*t on your own, but the world needs your stuff so screw commercial success and just do it.


I look up to the artist, business person, seamstress, painter, builder, butcher, baker, and candle stick maker because they are the ones that loosen their minds enough to make something where nothing existed before.

There is something about a “something” that is born from the mind and hands of an individual, before they’ve hit the sweet spot that appeals to the masses.  Before the whole corporate thing sets in and their creations are duplicated en-masse, which sort of kills the individual spirit of the prototypes that are worth more than the creator could ever have imagined.

It must be heady stuff for those people, so I especially love the humble contributors that maintain their humility after consumers make them into celebrities.  Those people are awesome.

But what about the creations that never hit the “big time?”

What about all the literature and artwork that adorn homes and end tables…imperfect because they didn’t have the capital or fan base to sand off the rough edges of individuality.

What about the creations that are inconsistent because they are made one at a time, by a person who simply loves to make things?

I think they are more worthy of our admiration than the commercial successes.  That’s just a hunch of course, and what do know anyway?  I’m just a guy who writes invisible blog posts in a sea of self-appointed prophets and “experts.”

Still, something about that feels true.  That people who make stuff for creation’s sake are friggin’ cool as hell and deserve a little “awe” from the rest of us because they’re not doing it for the money.  That makes me want them to get rich off their stuff more than anything.

But you can’t know which one you’ll be if you don’t try.  And if you’re not a rich creator does it mean you shouldn’t do what you love?  No.  Please no.


Write you writer’s.  Paint you artists. Sculpt, bake, cut, saw and hammer, all of you…even if it won’t make you famous.

Create things…because you are a god…and that’s what gods do.

Nice Guys Finish Last…

I think it’s true that nice guys finish last.

I’m just not sure they care about the race all that much.

At least not the one most of us are running.

(Does that mean they win?)

Hello World! (My Ass…)

The title to this post is the default provided by WordPress when you start a new blog.

It’s preloaded with HELLO WORLD! I added the (My Ass…) part.

This could be fun.  Kinda’ like the old days before my hosting company lost everything I published over the past 9 years.  (Good times.  Good times.)

I didn’t kick anything when I tried to login to my old site and got a message that said something like, “This site doesn’t exist.  Never did.”

I didn’t yell or raise my voice.  I just sat there and reviewed some of the things I’d written…and wondered where they went.  (I thought everything remained “out there” once you post it.  Maybe only the embarrassing pics like the one above, or late night drunken rants are permanent.)

I chalk up my lack of an outburst to the death and dying lessons.  It IS…after all…little more than spilled milk.  Doesn’t amount to a hill of beans really.

So I get to rebuild…and start over…and what the heck?

One of my new hopes with this iteration of Thirty Seconds… is that I will swear less.  Swearing on blogs and in silly meme’s is happening most of the time…and it’s not so effective because I think it’s overdone.

I’m going old school on this and I hope it still has an edge even though when I get upset I’ll use the word “upset,” instead of “pissed off.”  (When I’m really cheesed off I think I’ll say, “Holy Jumpin’ Up and Down!”  Boom! That’ll get your attention.)

Hope to find my audience again…or that you find me.  You really helped a guy through some tough spots…and I miss you.

Bare with me as I reconstruct my site…and work to carve out some time to join the ever growing army of bleeding hearts who think their lives are inspiring enough to warrant a damn story about how enlightened they are.(We are some narcissistic bastards.  Wait.  I meant to say narcissistic son-of-a-guns.)