Why here? Why now? And... sorry what?

I've a reasonably grown-up job making podcasts for clever people with big hearts.

A year-and-a-bit ago I was sitting in a field with a bunch of them, thinking about how much of that work doesn't let me off the leash, to explore the fun, weird, sometimes sincere, sometimes silly corners of my personality.

I consider most of what I do to be "the work": as in, the stuff of my existence that gives it some sort of purpose other than to keep my two cats alive.

That "work" doesn't have to be paid, but it'd nice if I got paid to do more of the stuff that brings me joy and that comes from my weird brain or my big overworked heart (overworked because I spend 45 minutes at the gym each weekday to assuage my guilt from eating and drinking too much).

Perfectly Normal Beasts

I called this bloggy newsletterry thing Perfectly Normal Beasts as a nat-tip to Douglas Adams, whose Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has brought me immense joy and value over the years. Every 6 to 18 months a new metaphor or way of understanding the world rises up from that six book trilogy, and the latest was the idea of the humble sandwich maker.

When Arthur lands on Lamuella (in-between the last two books in the series) he finds himself making sandwiches. The meat comes from perfectly normal beasts: large cow-like creatures that materialise in stampeding herds from thin air, race across the small planet, and then disappear again. Hence why the town's "wise person" called them perfectly normal beasts.

The idea of the humble sandwich maker has taken hold in my brain lately as I think about my next side quest: a website builder for fiction podcasts. I heard someone on a podcast I was editing talk about starting a new venture as like entering a village, and the idea really took hold from there.

I love the idea that, rather than enter a town square, open up your box of tricks, stand on the upturned box and start barking at people to "step right up", we recognise that inserting ourselves into a tight niche is something to be done delicately, with respect, and with the goal of building relationships and understanding what it is people actually want and need, and how you might be able to fill that need.

I also like the fact that some of the stuff I do is weird and earnest, or weird and funny, or just weird, so calling a blog Perfectly Normal Beasts and then being able to share some of that is right up my street.

So that's it, really. I facilitate a virtual co-working hour for the community of smart, big-hearted business hippies I mentioned up top – time I'm using to write this now. And if I do it right, I'll be able to keep this updated each Friday(ish) with fresh new fun things Im' up to, or ideas that spring from my brain.

The tone-of-voice of this thing might change a bit, based on my mood and what it looks like out of my window. So I really don't know if there'll be any kind of consistency. And knowing me, I've no idea whether this will be the first and only post. Probably there'll be another one and then that'll be it, as that's my usual MO.

But maybe having a space to have fun, to play, and to share what I'm up to will be just what I needed? Only time will tell.

Why are there paid options?

I sort of hate it when people do shitty work and then ask you to support it. So right now I'm not asking for money – I'm just setting up the infrastructure.

At some point I hope I'll do something you think you wouldn't mind sticking a fiver a month behind. Stuff like music, longer pieces of writing, behind-the-scenes access to things I'm building... that sort of gubbins.

If at some point I do something you like and would feel good about throwing some money at, I'll happily take it. But not yet. 🙂

Why Ghost?

It's a nice platform built by people who like the web. A good bit of what I want to do is talk, write, or otherwise make stuff about the open web – the web that I grew up with, and want to do my bit to preserve.

Substack would have been a viable alternative, but they still take money from actual nazis and people who are otherwise spreading hate, and they've shown no interest in changing their moderation policies or kicking off people who harbour and propagate views that set civilisation back. So no to Substack.

Which means saying no to the network effect and the possibility of this spreading a little bit easier.

But people like us – who love the open web and have principles beyond our own success – have always taken the longer, harder route. We might make fewer friends along the way, but we'll have a better chance of knowing those friends we do have are pure of heart... and we know we haven't sold out.

🤘