Ten years of fun, anger, thought, and what used to be called satire. Probably about two million words worth. I was never a pundit, per se, but a gang of voices reacting to current events and talking about pop culture. The names — Instapunk, Country Punk, LocoPunk, and whoever else — represented the moods we all have. The site was a multimedia experiment. A blog that acknowledged the importance of the visual as well as the role of honest to God writing in an age of throw-away words and horrifying grammar and spelling. If you read from the beginning, you’ll see an evolution. Formal essays giving way eventually to an oral voice that’s a lot like just talking.
It’s a kind of nakedness I once shied away from. You get to watch me learning more about writing. You also get to watch me doing an about-face from my whole approach to writing as you see it in The Boomer Bible. I was always afraid to show myself, expose my family, let anyone behind the curtain. Which is ridiculous. But you grow or you die. Instapunk was the parting of the curtain. Through time I stopped hiding. The Boomer Bible was an intellectual autobiography. Instapunk was a personal autobiography.
Anyhow. It’s a record of our times, day after day, month after month, year after year. I wasn’t always right, though I insisted I was, always, but there was always principle involved in my positions. When you look, you’ll see things you’ve forgotten. You’ll cringe at things you should remember but haven’t.
All I ask is that you recognize the record. I’m on record. I wrote day after day after day on a permanent parchment called the Internet. Think about it. Most folks get to spout off about the day’s headlines and forget about their wildest notions later on. You get to see mine live. Where else do you get the opportunity to see someone else nailed to the wall of accountability? Enjoy.