You will find that I am the pig
Hi friend,
I’m avoiding the news and yet it all still finds me. (Brain worm. The man had a lit-e-ral worm in his brain.)
The problem with only sending these letters every month or so is that, for at least a decade now, “a month or so” has been the typical incubation period for some Fresh New American Hell. And boy is this one fresh!
The darkest feeling I’m feeling is that this is exactly the country that I always knew that it was. That America is a cruel place, full of abjectly cruel people who revel in their cruelty. People who hate people like me, people who genuinely believe that none of this matters because they will live in the clouds with Jeebus when they die, and who do not fear the end of the world but are in fact eager for it. They’re doing kegstands in the back of the Great American Party Bus, and we’re all locked in together as it barrels toward a cliff.
The America that I always thought it was revealed itself to me as a young person trying to make sense of the world; to make sense of homophobic epithets hurled from car windows at a literal child, of friends pulling away as they got more into their church, of history teachers defending genocides, of the non-stop multimedia celebration of violence, death, pain, and war. It felt like a whole lot of people LIKED the cruelty. And that they would take any opportunity to huff it like glue for a fleeting hit of power.
In time, I learned that that’s not the whole world, of course. The world is also full of kindness, and love, and aching beauty. But so often, so much of that is visible only in contrast to the cruelty.
Let’s just say that what I am not feeling right now, in any possible sense, is surprise.
The neoliberal response to the impending destruction of anything that was still good about this country seems to be to flock to Blue Sky and post memes about Trump picking Voldemort for Sec Def. It’s embarrassing and unsurprising. You’re not going to find me over there; we are not doing this again.
I don’t necessarily believe that this will be a wake-up call for many people, but I hope that it will. One thing I hope people will consider is that perhaps tone policing and protest votes and progressive infighting and spelling folks with an X is not doing much to make truly vulnerable people actually, practically safer — as in safer from violence and death — and that you may in fact have to make mistakes, be vulnerable, suck it up, and be willing to speak real truths to real power without preemptively self-editing against imagined backlash from overly-online dorks who get off on knowing all the right ways to turn genuine human expression into community-workshopped, performatively-inclusive, baby-safe word goo.
Change will not come comfortably, and it will not come in the form of memes and microblogging snark. You will have to swallow bitter pills, speak bitter truths, and be okay with some people being mad at you. In a literal fight, going high when someone else goes low means you end up on your ass. Donny has swept our leg, and here we are, on our ass. (See what I did there? That’s a Karate Kid reference. I don’t really like that movie it’s just a thing.)
Anyway, this is the energy I’m bringing into 2025: If you try to bury me you will not find that I am a seed, you will find that I am the pig. You have stepped into my mud, it is time to rassle, and boy oh boy am I going to like it.
Fair-weather fascists?
This didn’t fit the narrative above, but while I’m on the subject, I’m curious if you’re seeing what my partner and I have been seeing all over Rhode Island lately: fair-weather fascists. We’re seeing significantly more Trump and MAGA signs on homes and vehicles going up now, after the election, like so many baseball bandwagoners waiting to buy the World Series championship hat. It’s … gross.
Meanwhile, I am still a content strategist
Coming up on 10 years of the world ending but still going, it feels like. So yes, it’s still going, and I still do work things, whee capitalism, let’s hit some highlights:
I recently joined Patrick Stafford on the Writers of Silicon Valley podcast to talk about the nature of content and product work, and their relationship to the larger business. It also gave me a chance to invoke the Content Death Star.
After leading a content portfolio workshop for a great group of content strategists and designers at Fidelity Investments, I wrote up a fresh take on what to include in your content portfolio, via what I now call the P.O.N.Y. method.
To scratch a personal itch after running into some really wild communication choices, I wrote and published a content design case study analysis of USDA communications regarding a listeria outbreak in the food supply. (And I am now reflecting on how this kind of thing is going to get much, much worse in the coming years, not better. 😬)
I’m approaching career coaching a little differently in 2025. It will be a hybrid of sorts between traditional 1:1 career coaching and the workshop-driven career strategy development activities of Content Career Accelerator. I have 12 slots available in total for the year. The first window starts January 6. I’m still ironing out details, but the engagement will look something like this:
Career strategy and portfolio workshops, topical 1-on-1s, weekly check-ins, and unlimited support. If this sounds like something you might be interested, write me back with some info on your career goals/challenges/aspirations for 2025 and beyond and I can share pricing and other details.
Thanks for being here
I like my little list. I’m glad to be able to write to you. I’m glad and grateful for anyone that ever reads anything I write, let alone shares it. And I’m of course grateful to the 156 of you to date that have bought me a coffee or five, including, recently, Kristin, Johanna, and a very generous someone known to me who contributed anonymously. Many people might be surprised how little I actually get by on in order to live this strange little life of mine, and every donation goes a long way toward making it possible for me to simply Keep Going.
Hope you’re doing well out there friend; as well as can be expected, anyway. Please write me back if I can help with anything, and to let me know how you’re doing.
Until next time,
Scott