I posted the first-ever entry on The 12, and, as such, have come today to send our readers a message on behalf of the sixteen or seventeen of us that make up The 12. We’re angry, outraged, mad, wild-eyed, fanatical and sick and tired of your tepid responses.
It’s time to go viral. It’s all up to you.
A guest posted a veiled critique of Rachel Held Evans on Saturday. Her blog is followed by a trillion people. I’m not saying we’re jealous, but when only thirteen of you liked our critique, it made me seethe. Google Analytics says at least fourteen people read our post. Someone isn’t pulling his or her weight.
Or let me put it this way: I got an email from Steve Mathonnet-VanderWell last weekend, containing a first draft of his Obamacare related post that ran June 3rd. The draft was angry, visceral and heated. I wrote back to Steve, “Take a deep breath and step away from the ledge.” He moderated the tone of his piece and what was published was as gentle as a turtledove. As a result, no one noticed. Steve took the high road — the wrong road in the blogosphere. Blogs run on outrage. The magic word is “rant.”
Here’s some wisdom on ranting I found on the Huffington Post:
“When rant blog posts are well-written and received, they can make the author or brand appear to be a bold thought leader by questioning groupthink and common belief systems . . . If executed properly, they can make a brand stand out from the crowd.”
Let’s rant, so we can appear to be bold thought leaders and have our brand stand out from the crowd.
We’re sick of posting and having little response. Steve’s most recent blog got two “attaboys” from the usual suspects and one long thoughtful response from someone who didn’t have the decency to call Steve stupid, wishy-washy, liberal and stupid. Long thoughtful responses are never going to get this blog where we need to go. No one reads long responses. We need short responses filled with obscenities. “You’re a stupid jackass,” is what we need. Please post that comment today.
We need jerks. We need thin-skinned people to get involved. We need rage and anger and madness ranting away.
We’re Reformed, a brand that strikes fear into the hearts and minds of the world. (If you are an Anabaptist with a long memory, you know what I’m talking about.) We’re three and half point Calvinists. That’s our brand — we’re putting it out there. We’re straddling the middle in a world of extremes, and man, are we ticked. (And don’t get me started about the picture of a football on this page!)
But not so mad we don’t like everything. I have a suspicion that you do not understand the whole concept of the like button. You should like everything. A year ago my dog and I were attacked by another dog. I put a note on Facebook saying that we’d been attacked. 97 of my friends liked this. That’s the way it is supposed to work.
No matter what happens, you should like it. I have indigestion. Like. My car broke down. Like. My pants don’t fit. Like. The key called promise in the web world is the like button. From kidnapping to cancer to cramping, you should like it all. Just remember Sally “You like me, you really, really like me” Field. Like everything, please.
But how many of you liked Steve’s article last week? The count is in the twenties. Come on. We give and give and give and this is the thanks we get? We need more likes, people. Please post “You’re a stupid jackass” today and then like this post. It’s not antithetical. It’s what you are supposed to do.
Finally, we need reposts. What happens on this internet thing is like a web. It’s like a world wide web. It’s like a network. It’s like a social network. I write something stupid. Although you dislike it, you hit the like button. You then repost it (or tweet it), along with a comment saying, well, you know what you’re supposed to say. Your friends read, post their own angry responses, and then they repost saying “My friend reads this stupid jackass.” On and on it goes, around the world, spreading our brand as we appear to be thought leaders.
Please help us stand out from the crowd.
