You Ruined My Omelet

 

"Shut up, you pompous ass. And why don't you go ahead and go fuck yourself too, while you're at it?"

Perhaps I was a bit too harsh? Was it too mean? Too abrupt? You know, sometimes in life you just have certain people in it that just rub you the wrong way no matter what. And maybe they aren't even necessarily annoying people in real life.

They're just annoying to me.

People like that can irritate you no matter what they do. He could put air in his tires, and I'd find something to be annoyed about the way he was doing it, even if the way he was doing it wasn't even remotely out of the ordinary.

"Did you see the way he put air in those tires? Like he's some sort of tire inflating expert or something."

It was in the middle of telling a story. Not a particularly good one, mind you. Granted. But it was a story, nonetheless. And perhaps by the time I was telling it I'd admittedly had a couple of beers down. 

Okay, maybe it was four.

But I can handle my liquor just fine, thank you very much. I am a Bonafide professional, and four beers won't knock me out of my senses, that much I can tell you. 

"You're painting a picture in my head," he said.

I really wasn't. That much was apparent. To him the words coming out of my mouth were nothing more than nonsensical gibberish. 

Hey, give me a break here, will ya? I'm a writer more than I'm a talker. I'm good with words so I long as I write them down. But was my story really coming across that incoherently? That vague? Or was this pompous ass just being the typical pompous ass he is known to be?

Well, known to be from the likes of me.

But he is, actually. Even if some other people don't see it. Maybe they're pompous asses of sorts together. You know how that is in the world so often. Like minds just go together, don't they?

But wait a minute. Isn't that actually the other way around?

"The reason you two can't get along is because you're both so much alike." 

Doh!

Yeah, fuck you too. I will stake no claim whatsoever that I have a single ounce of pomposity coursing through my veins. Unlike YOU, sir, I actually DO know everything.

You're painting a picture in my head...snicker, snicker. 

Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and have your fun. I am glad to know that instead of actually hearing my story you were simply awaiting your cue to be able to find some fault with it. I'd expect no less from the likes of a guy like you.

Par for the course, as they say. I should've known better. Even if the story wasn't for him and no one else seemed fit to stop me in my tracks and suggest I was making about as much sense as a live blow torch in a fireworks warehouse.

Besides, how was I now going to make more sense? You scrambled my omelet, buddy, and what will be plopped on the plate will not even remotely resemble the breakfast I was aiming for. Thanks. And now on top of that you've got my panties all in a bunch.

Not only has my train of thought been perfectly derailed, now I am irritated too. On top of that, I had lost my interest in even finishing it. What was the point anyway? Clearly, he didn't think there was one to be found.

But finish my story I did. It didn't receive any accolades. Not that I was seeking any. And when the final word passed over my lips, the only thought that crossed my mind was...

I swear he's thinking it. "Cool story, bro."

Dagnabbit and confound it, no he didn't. Well, he really didn't. But I knew he was thinking it. He gave a slight nod and sipped his—whatever he was working on, and we went on about our evening per the usual.

When he said goodbye, I turned to my wife and looked at her in disgust, shaking my head. "Did you see the way he said goodbye? I mean, really."

Like the way I write or the things I write about? I write about serious and important things too, and you will find much more clarity outside of here than you will ever find inside of here. Follow me on my Facebook page for all my latest rants and even some nonsensical nothings.

This Blog, Sir, Is Dead

Just keep on writing. It's the "forever mantra" of a plyer of pens. Granted, in the world of blogging, no real pens are harmed. It's all just digital data being sent out in the form of words into the ethers. Wherever that is, honestly.

I ply my wares in other places besides this one. And thank Heaven's I do, because this blog gets about as much traction as a man with no legs. Yeesh. Bad joke? Too soon considering I guess old Pistorius is getting out of prison shortly?

You know, he's that guy with the steel, springy legs who once was a star athlete before he killed his girlfriend some years back.

I said I was doing a little experiment though with this one. Of course, you probably didn't get to read it. Well, because who does? It's a ghost town here, folks. But I said I was going to try to post more often here, and not so much as do a thing to promote any of the blogs I write here, just to see if that will ramp up some algorithm in search land (or maybe wake it the hell up!) or something.

I take that back. I did promote the one just before this one. The one about R.P. Kane. 

But the key is to examine the posts that aren't promoted to see if they get anywhere on their own. Just by doing the one thing that blog writers do. Write blogs and hit the publish button and wait.

My other blogs are not a good gauge since they actually have an audience and can find their own way well enough into the hands of readers. Or eyes. Or whatever.

So far what I have learned is that it is just too early to tell if there is any impact whatsoever since I only started this experiment a very short while ago. So, onward and upward, continuing to write more nonsensical nothings I go.

This blog has always been a bit of dead space. Maybe that's part of the reason this one has not been permitted by AdSense to be monetized. Oh well. Maybe one day I can convince the powers that be at Google, or Alphabet, or whatever it is these days to consider it and bring home a little extra dough from it.

Either way, it's still a fun place to write about just about anything I want to. And I guess if it sucks it doesn't matter since no one will see it anyway.

Hey! Johnny Fever. You out there, man? I feel your pain, talking into the airwaves with not a single car radio tuned into your show. That's me. Here I am. Right there with you, buddy. Only he got paid anyway. Wait a damn minute.

In any event, I will keep on doing what I do here regardless of the outcome. I guess from time to time I will promote one or two or several here and there. For what purpose, I have no idea. Maybe I land an eye or two. Who knows?

But for the time being, this blog is dead.

Like the way I write or the things I write about? Follow me on my Facebook page. Trust me, it's quite a bit livelier outside of here than it is inside of here. Anyone out there? Anyone? Anyone?

Writing Again: From the Desk of R.P. Kane

No. Not blogs. Not articles. Or the usual fare I have been writing for several years now. Fiction. Horror fiction to be exact.

I used to do it all the time, writing short stories and novels since I was eight. It has always been a passion of mine, but admittedly something I largely got away from. I suppose one just eventually finds other ways to fuel their passion for writing anything at all, and politics and talking about money just sort of took over.

But fiction has remained something I still like to do from time to time. But it's mostly just for me and my own enjoyment, exploring my imagination and what creepy things I can conjure up. Some of it I actively publish. Most of it I tend to keep on the sidelines.

I have decided to change that a bit.

Back in the 1990s, I introduced an online monthly horror fiction magazine to the world, taking on the persona of Ivan S. Graves, editor in chief, and calling it FrightNet. Despite the world of the Internet being entirely different back then, the magazine was nearly an instant success.

The aim was to make it look and feel like a traditional, in print publication. And it did that. You'd click on the cover, and it would take you into a table of contents, and from there there'd be articles and editorials, and of course, the main course, short stories.

The magazine eventually wound up including many popular talents in the horror field. Jack Ketchum, Peter Straub, T.M. Wright, Douglas Clegg, Michael Laimo and countless others.  And it also led to a horror anthology being published around 2001 or so, called Dark Whispers.

The magazine eventually ceased. It was hard to monetize back then, and Ivan S. Graves bid his farewell, even cancelling plans to publish a second horror anthology called Chillers. Mort Castle once said of me, "You will be one of the greats." But I essentially left horror behind.

It's not that I abandoned the persona of Ivan S. Graves entirely, though. There were several times when I made an appearance or two in certain circles, even writing a foreword to R.K. Finnell's short story collection, Grue Tales, in 2018. I have also maintained connections with several of the writers I had the pleasure of working with, and even occasionally still write a book review here and there.

The persona of Ivan S. Graves was never considered to be a writer. He was an editor. Someone to advance the genre and offer an outlet for authors to have their work published. He did write, though. And if you dig really, really deep you can find some of his work still hanging around in places.

The writer side was R.P. Kane. 

Even the persona of R.P. Kane was mostly intended to be a practice author. In other words, the real writer's name behind Jim Bauer (my real name) would be more of a secret. That writer's name remains to be that way today with almost no one knowing who he is.

And I'm still not talking.

R.P. Kane's work would sometimes be tossed into the pages of FrightNet, and when I did it, I never let on to anyone that Ivan S. Graves was actually R.P. Kane. Though there were a few curious contributors who would sometimes recognize something in Kane's style that resembled the monthly "Letter from the Editor" that appeared in every issue.

Kane also took on a bit of a more sinister nature in what he wrote. And so, the persona offered me some liberties to try different things in the way of style and delivery, and even subject matter.

Tests. Practice. A way to hone the craft and share it at the same time.

By the way, sometimes that's the real reason many writers write under different names. It's not just because their real names might be boring, or not quite fit the genre, like mine. It's that you can do things with one name that you can't do with a more known name—it gives you some separation and allows for a little bit of experimentation.

Nonetheless, I have decided to begin sharing some of R.P. Kane's work, both old and new, on a blog on this very platform. Not within The Journal. But in its own space.

It is a work in progress as we speak, and to date there is nothing to share other than that I am doing it. Stay tuned.

Like the way I write or the things I write about? Follow me on my Facebook page where I share posts from this blog, as well as all the other places I write, and where you will be able to find links to the future publishings of R.P. Kane.

An archived copy of FrightNet, #13, June/July 1999

Discover Extra 2% Cash Back Offer is Fake

Perhaps this simply serves as another reminder to never click on any link inside of any email even if it looks legitimate.

Scammers will try just about anything to get hold of your information and rob you.

Today, for example, I noticed an email that looked fairly legitimate from Discover Card that offered me to activate now, before it's too late, an additional 2% cash back reward on top of all other current cash back rewards offered until December 31, 2023.

"No need to login. Just activate inside this email."

That should be the first and only red flag that this is a scam, and the email did not come from Discover Card Services.

I was still interested if it were true. But when I logged into my account through the normal process, the offer was nowhere to be found.

It's the world we live in, folks. Trust no one and always double check. And if there is anything offered in an email, login to your regular account before clicking on anything in order to make sure it's a real offer.

Like the way I write or the things I write about? Follow me on my Facebook page to keep up with all the latest posts from Jim Bauer wherever he may write.

A Couple of Experiments Just for Kicks and Grins

Twitter has always been a "funny" place to me in that it's like a ghost town on my profile page. I have enough "followers," but still, getting any real traction on anything I post there is difficult. For whatever reason.

However, I do think some of the stats shown aren't always completely accurate. For example, link clicks, if I am sharing a song or sharing a post, tend to always display as zero. At the same time, if I am posting something to share there, I do also often see a jump in views.

I know when and where I share something mostly. So, where else would the views be coming from but link clicks even if the stats say no one clicked?

I wrote a post yesterday on here that remained at zero. Hey, this particular blog really has no audience and gets very little traffic. I always consider it just a quiet place to write something just to keep the pen moving, have a little fun, and keep the mind fresh and active.

I rarely actively share what I write on here.

But I became curious. Would sharing the former post on Twitter bump up the view count? I am not sure, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it will.

So, I am checking to see if that actually happens. But there is another experiment I want to try out. The fact is that I am not very active adding to this blog. Usually on my main blog I limit my posts to only one per day. I won't get into the details of why that's my rule. I will just say that it is.

So, even if I write two or more posts in a day, I won't publish them right away. Instead I will schedule them in a way to be published so only one per day is added to the blog.

In any event, the second experiment is to see if I post more on this blog, will it push the posts more?

It's helpful to also understand some changes that I could make on my primary blog that might actually be beneficial to it and drive in way more traffic. In the end I have nothing to lose. No one sees this blog hardly anyway. And for whatever reason I have not been able to monetize this one as I have with my primary blog.

Onward and upward and we will see what happens. I will be sure to post my findings even if I am also absolutely positive I might as well do magic tricks in front of a blind man.

No one will see it. 

Hey! Think this blog sucks? Maybe you're right. How about giving me some spins on some of my music that sucks too? I could use the income to keep writing things that suck. You can find my quirky Pink Flamingoes (misspelled on purpose) album on Spotify. If you are so kind, perhaps there is a song or two that makes your favorite playlist?

By the way, the picture that accompanies this post has nothing whatsoever to do with this post. It's just a picture of a 1980 Ford Fiesta, which also happened to be my first car. But mine was powder blue.

Pink Flamingoes Anomaly

I often get a kick out of an album I released a few years back that is on several streaming platforms, including Spotify. If I take accumulated totals of streams of all the songs I have released, both on that album and singles, the one that gets the win is the signature song on the album, Pink Flamingoes.

Now, you do have to bear one very important thing in mind here, and that's that music (if you want to call it that in my case) is entirely a hobby and nothing more. I do not perform live, am not in a band and never was, and it's all just for fun for me.

That being said, my style, whatever what one considers it to be is definitely mine and my songs are all quite a bit "different" and I would also say, "quirky."

I don't like to conform to a certain given format or rules. And of course, I don't have to because they are my songs, and I can do what I want with them. So long as a handful of people enjoy them, that's all that matters to me.

But Pink Flamingoes, misspelled on purpose by the way, is particularly "weird," I suppose especially in the long outro where I start singing about pink flamingos flying—which most people would say, "What the hell does that have to do with the theme of the song?"

Do songs always have meanings or are they sometimes just a combination of things the artist feels just "sounds good?"

The pink flamingos flying at the end I suppose could suggest just accepting who you are and what you are and not being afraid to be that. In reality, it was just "practice singing" in a section where I had no real lyrics to add, on a song I never intended to release. 

But after some test runs of the song, everyone suggested I keep it there. They liked it. And that was enough for me to leave it there and make it the title of the song, and subsequent album, as well as added a "remake" at the end of the album of that song with a slight, new twist.

In any event, I just wanted to talk about it because the "success" of that song just never ceases to surprise me.

Pink Flamingoes on Spotify
Pink Flamingoes (The Album) on iTunes
Pink Flamingoes (Remake) on YouTube
Pink Flamingoes on Amazon Music
Pink Flamingoes on YouTube