An open letter to my readers



I cross myself in the traditional catholic way and pray every single time I sit down to write.


You may not know that.


Not trying to win points; I’m a shitty catholic.


But it is true.


And this blog has been about the truth the whole time.


It’s not changing in that regard.






Another truth:


I’m tired.


I’ve been fighting this (culture) war for 30 years (31 in a week or so when I turn 47).


Fucking exhausted, if I’m being profanely honest.


I won’t boor you with details of my absence so I’ll simply leave it at:


I’ve lost everything that didn’t literally fit in a duffel bag.


Cars, a motorcycle, book collections, writings, irreplaceable (award winning) photographs.


The last wound delivered by my decade-long suicide attempt.


But I’m still here.




Imagine my surprise at my return to find twitter aflame with the ‘sphere blasting itself to pieces and charlatans around every corner.


Posturing and infighting.


Grift and grief.


For years, now, they’ve been saying “the ‘sphere is dead”.


With everyone shouting blame.


Well, as usual, I’ll give the answer you didn’t request and probably won’t like:


Who killed it?


The readers.




Because con-men are only as successful as the number of suckers they ensnare.


If one is seeking easy solutions and honeyed words then one should expect to be duped.


Life is not that easy.


Of course I’m releasing my readers from culpability.


But, as usual, I can do so honestly.


Because I’ve sold nothing but promises of diamonds after a long and arduous dig.


I’ve never said I was anything but a broke – and broken – fat man trying to get his shit together again while sharing the wisdom gleaned from his voluminous mistakes smoothed by 90 proof lubricant [Devil’s Cut is 90 proof but 80 proof is what I briefly drank when this all began].




What does this mean for this blog?


The tone will change for a while.


It’ll be deeply personal regarding the struggle to return to normalcy (from my self-imposed, inebriated, shut-in exile) and cope with aging in a world unrecognizable to me.


If that is uninteresting to you, then I sincerely thank you for the time we’ve shared and wish you the happiest of trails.


If, instead, it’s something that captures your curiosity:


Then saddle up; we ride again.


Because, as I wrote in my first book:


You’ll either live to be my age ̶


or you won’t.



12 Responses to “An open letter to my readers”

  1. Drive on, brother. I’ll be close by.

  2. Welcome back – living a good life. With order. With Truth, Beauty, Justice as central to us is important.

    The ultimate victory must be fought by our grandchildren and what we provide them with will echo in the ages.

  3. Devil’s Cut is the only Beam product worth drinking. Good choice!

    I totally understand the “world unrecognizable to me” idea, too. I’m only slightly younger than you are but having grown up in normalcy and now seeing *this*, I wonder it went.

    I’m here for the introspection. Well, and the music, too.

    I’m also Protestant but anytime you want to talk Christ, use the email address.

  4. Just glad to have you back. Looking forward to reading your new content, as always.

    Godspeed, ♠

  5. A♠,

    The reality is that advice for remaking and rebuilding one’s life as an aging man in this social hellscape is a fundamental building block of the ‘Sphere. I suspect we’re the main demographic.

    If the youth can avoid our mistakes, all well and good. They’ll just go on and make their own.

    ‘He who serves Revolution ploughs the sea’ – Bolivar

    The Twitter food fight reminds me of a similar dust-up in 2013.

    Pook wrote about the arguments in 2006, and BoneCrkr has an article on No-Maam from 2001. The conflicts were constant and pointless; at that scale, it had the impact of factions warring over control of the mayorship of a small town in Haiti, or prison rivals over monopoly of the cigarette supply.

    There will be no manosphere Grand Alliance even if women actually begin hurting in large numbers from men winning at the great ‘Game’. If anything it will make the warring parties even more vociferous.

    Ponder the ‘Great Game’ from the 19th Century for a moment. The ancient squabblings in Europe, paired with the new tools and technology of the Industrial Revolution, led to the Great Powers overspreading the globe in the race for colonies. It didn’t happen because Europe wanted to enlighten the world, that’s ex post facto rationalization. It happened because of their eternal rivalry WITH EACH OTHER.

    We all know how it ended, that’s not my point here. But I think what we’re seeing in these ever larger and more publicized disputes is evidence that this shift in mens’ perceptions is gaining power.

    The whole thing is powered by male rage and pain; the fuel supply is bottomless, especially today. Rivalries create new tactics and tools. The ‘Sphere isn’t going anywhere, it will always be a nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown.

    We older ones are like Mao’s Long March veterans. We’re just trying to survive. To husband our strength. To pick our battles. And to be ready for The Moment. We’re men; we can do no other.

    A long wordy way to say … I’m with you, Brother. We haven’t spoken in a while and I’m looking forward to your new direction.

    All my best,

  6. I’ve recently started turning wood on a friends lathe. Learning that you never know what beauty can be inside what looks to be a rotten piece of junk barely fit to be burned. Or how an unseen crack can rip a piece right open.

    Don’t worry if the world seems merely fit to be burned. It keeps on turning.

  7. YouSoWould Says:

    Buddy, sorry to hear of your woes. I wish you all the best in finding your feet again. Always open for a chat, should you ever desire.

  8. Glad to have you back. Your absence has been noted and deeply felt. Keep fighting the good fight.

  9. “I’ve lost everything that didn’t literally fit in a duffel bag.”

    I wish I could be of more help than just reading. Meanwhile, I’ll remain here gladly.

    There is a saying in my religion: “Aseh l’cha rav, oo’kinay l’cha chaver.”

    Literally: “Make for yourself a teacher, and find for yourself a friend.”

    The use of “make” is an interesting word choice, but it points to the fact that the real thing is always, as you put it, the promise of “diamonds after a long and arduous dig.”

    As for the friend part, that’s why we’re here. You may be poor in some things, but you have many who wish you well. This is an under-appreciated form of wealth to the best of times, almost criminally so given what is coming.

    Our prayers go with you, and our fellowship remains here.


  10. Hope you’re well, Ace.

    Merry (early) Christmas

  11. Somewhere at some time in history, for the first time ever, a man shoed a horse. He said, “I’m going to take this iron letter of the alphabet and nail it to the foot of that 1,200 lb. stud. And the man next to him thought it was a good enough idea that he volunteered to hold the leg while the first man swung the hammer.

    The world is insane with the behaviors it’s willing to try, and equally insane with the odds of what can work out. I don’t really have a point other than don’t be the horse, or standing near it when the hammer swings. But once you mount, ride til you’re exhausted.

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