The Fork

Should I pay the money? Should I renew the hosting service and commit myself to writing again? Does anyone care?

I struggle with this every year, but I usually know deep down inside that I probably, most likely, kinda-sorta still want to write and will end up renewing.

This year, I was less sure that I would renew. Last week, I left for spring break with my family and let the due date for renewal pass. I spent most of that time not looking at my phone and enjoyed that immensely. When I returned, I thought I'd write one last T.I.T.S. blog (coincidental acronym) as a farewell and let the site fade into the ether and that didn't bother me as much as I thought it would.

Not because I don't like writing. Because I do.

Not because I wouldn't miss entertaining you each week. Because I would.

And not because the blog isn't continuing to grow. Because it is. More than ever.

No, I struggled with coming up with why the blog should continue because I don't have an end game in mind for it anymore. I don't plan to sell ads or monetize it in any way. I won't resort to short, click baity, blogs that are filled with embedded tweets and little else. That means the blog is never going to grow into something huge and I'm not even sure that I covet that anyways.

I also don't envision any bigger platform coming to me and saying "Hey, write T.I.T.S. on our site!" because Flappr is kind of a redheaded stepchild of the internet - too ribald for "proper" right-wing types to associate with, while also not being far right enough to associate with the "improper" ones.

Flappr has, in some ways, by accident, forged its own path and become unique in all of the least profitable ways possible.

So why continue with the blog? 

I've reached the fork in the road and have no map.

The content I am most passionate about remains the documentaries we publish on YouTube. I am so damn proud of those things and a small piece of my soul is crushed that these videos linger in relative obscurity. They deserve to be watched and loved as much as I love them.

But those videos are essentially feature-length films and are very hard to make. They require me to enlist Professor Jimbo, who then must agree to commit months of his life to producing videos that make him no money and that I cannot get enough people to watch. It's a difficult proposition (and one I hope you'll help me solve! Subscribe and tell a friend!).

So, in the interim, there is the blog, Cloth Off Friday, and the occasional video essay I publish on sundress season, man colds, or whatever else comes to mind. The blog is the most consistent of these offerings, but also time-consuming in its own right because I want each post to look cool, be filled with small jokes, and present readers with a unique experience. As a result, the blog is mostly just the Friday edition of T.I.T.S. these days (which takes days to prepare). I wish more people volunteered to contribute, but I can't pay them. That's also a tall ask.

So why continue with the blog? I really don't have an answer.

I've reached the fork in the road, and I'm choosing to take it.

I'm not sure any of the following fully explains why I chose to renew, but I'll venture a few attempts that capture my feelings.

I guess I'm choosing to continue because enough of you reached out and told me it was worth continuing. This, above all else, is why I chose to continue blogging. Your encouragement made me feel like the writings we publish have value. Even if that value is limited to making a relatively small (but growing) number of people laugh each week.

I guess I'm choosing to continue because we make content that I would like to read and watch and there isn't much else out there like what we make. Maxim Magazine is gone. Sports Illustrated started putting men in its Swimsuit Edition. ESPN is woke and insufferable, Deadspin was even worse, and Bro Bible is cringe. We're kind of like Barstool or Outkick or BlackSportsOnline (which are probably the last remaining sites for men on the internet), only we're more right-wing, nobody visits our site, we publish better blogs and I'm not black.

I guess I'm choosing to continue because I think Flappr fills a vacuum in the spectrum of right-of-center discourse. Not as MAGA as some may prefer. Too spicy, too alternative for others. I'd like to think that I write from a place of Righteous Midwestern Indignation, in that I mostly just want to be left alone and leave you alone, but if you wear a bikini to Kroger's or try to trans the kids . . . I'm going to judge you, clown on you and hate you in the nicest way possible.

I guess I'm choosing to continue because Flappr is a thing I created, and I'm vain and don't like the idea of seeing it die.

I guess I'm choosing to continue because "[n]ot all those who wander are lost" and "[s]till round the corner there may wait a new road or a secret gate”.

What's in store for Season Five of Flappr.net? I have no fucking clue. I can't say that we're going to release a new documentary in the next 12 months (though we are discussing it). I have no plans for a podcast. I have no plans other than to try and blog at least once a week as I have every week for the last 4 years.

I suppose Season Five would be cool if you (yes, you) saw what I'm trying to create and wanted to help it grow. You felt like we were worth telling a friend about. That you thought our blogs were worth sharing in your group chats or on message boards you frequent. We live and die based on your support.

I'd also like to collaborate more this year. If you create content, let's do something together. I like making cool shit. Just look at the cover art for this blog, how cool is that shit? The answer: very cool. I would like to make cool shit with you. I hate how protective some right-wing influencer types can be about their "status" and "clout". Don't be like that, drop me a line.

That's it. There is no other plan. We're going to take this day by day. Anything less would be a sin. Who knows . . . maybe this horse will learn to sing? Is the sun rising or setting on The Flappr Project? We will not know until we get there.

We've reached the fork in the road. Nothing behind us, everything ahead of us, as is ever so on the road to nowhere.