There is a black cat at the window.
The cat has precipitated my morning. In order to let the cat in I have to change out of my pajamas and dressing gown. My partner is terribly allergic to cats so any trace will bring her out in hives. In my day pajamas, I open the window and find the child from upstairs is outside screaming in harmony with the Idles track I’m playing on my phone. I don’t particularly like the track, spotify is again taking liberties. This is not the Saturday I had planned. At least the cat is compliant, she settles down on a towel on the pull out bed after some enthusiastic head rubs.

Rather than writing, I’m being drawn into the minutiae of creating a substack. It would be good to get paid for this but I think it would mean no longer writing here. Or, publishing on both. It seems strange that I’m not paying for the privilege, that someone would pay me is even stranger. £2 per subscription is not value for money but then £2 is no longer money what with inflation. Of course, don’t think I believe that. £2 is money. There we go. My authentic voice. Small throwaway comments and backtracking. All for the modest price of £2.

The cat doesn’t necessarily want to be here. It’s just warmer than outside as I’ve got the heating on. £2 is an hour and a half of heating. Possibly longer. I don’t know of hand as I’m relatively comfortable. Both financially and thermostatically. This is content.

In order to create a substack I have to add a subscriber list which is slightly awkward as after 10 years of this page I have no real subscribers. You are true renegades and I respect that. I turn to my twitter accounts which are still only followed by pornbots and ex-Green Party Leader Natalie Bennett. Worth a shot. Tabbing across, I’m so lost now in my own content and my own online identity that I have been subsumed. What does anything mean anymore? Is that worth £2? Who knows?

I’m in favour of having a free version available on mrhummels.com. The way it always has been, but that really defeats the purpose of a substack. Do I need 2 places for noone to read the same thing? Anyway that is democratic at least. In the same way that private health care is democratic next to the NHS. Basically, if you’re reading this on substack you’re a wank. This is going well for my first substack. I’m not sure the analogy holds either. I’m bringing myself to my own knees by supporting the paid for option. Perhaps it does as by creating a payway page I’m signing the death knell of mrhummels.com. Why would I continue to pay for a website noone has ever been on?

These are the questions I aim to answer here, and in other places.
All of this happened because the cat came to the window and I hadn’t gotten out of my pajamas yet. I was planning on going on a run and then maybe going to the Hibs game but now I’m here doing this. I’ve not eaten yet either. Not because you’ve not paid the subscription fee but because I’m attempting to fast. That should give you a good indication of how middle aged and middle class I am. Welcome to MrHummels.com The fasting does make you delusional at times but not delusional enough to pay for a website no one will ever go on. Or create a second paid for stream to appease your delusions.

The substack page wants me to pick a colour. They don’t know me at all.
I can’t imagine this will cause much of a ripple in the substack world, let alone a splash. I was full of creativity and enthusiasm when I signed up at the weekend but now it’s Tuesday night…
I suppose all I need from Substack, or SS as I’ll not call it, is the money. If I can recoup the money I’ve spent on wordpress over the years then I’ll be happy. £50 something a year. That’s £500 over 10 years. An expensive habit. Should have taken up a cheap and highly addictive drug. The quip would have read “Should have taken up smack” previously, but now I’m too mature to find the prospect of hypothetical drug addiction amusing. That is the Mr Hummels voice. Authentic and pure. That’s what you get for your £3.50. Sorry, prices have just gone up. If 142.8 people sign up for the month then I’ll have broken even. And the rest can read for free on WordPress.

I should once again recognise the ongoing influence of Blindboy Boatclub. I’ve recently enjoyed at least some of his content, which is impressive. I had until recently thought that he was a bit of a wanker too and was disappointed to learn that I was the wanker when the infuriating vocal fry which I thought him guilty of was actually a legacy setting on my podcast app of choice. Turns out he wasn’t speaking with a squeaky voice and inflecting like the devil. He was on 1.1x speed. Apologies to Mr. Boatboy.

An accountant friend recently told my partner a funny tale… They said that they can see all of their companies payslips before they go out to the employees. They said that there are people out there, people in Edinburgh, who earn… get this… over £150,000 a year – after tax. Isn’t that mad?! You’re probably thinking, ‘No.’ But then you’re either reading this on substack and therefore living in London. Or you’re a fake porn bot on wordpress. Anyway, it makes you think, doesn’t it? What can they possibly need that quantity of money for? And that’s just Edinburgh! I work to make peoples lives better and earn less all year than they do in a couple of months. And I’ll be fucked if I can get a permanent job. Obscene.

Sorry if I offended anyone. Man discovers capitalism, is shocked!
But getting down to brass tax… Someone could surely manage £3.50 to support a national treasure? No?

God, I’ve fallen pretty low, pretty fast. The other thing I was doing, while I was full of creative verve and energy, was looking at youtube with my perspective specs on. Generally when I think a video has reached one million views I have a tendency to think, ‘Wow! 1million!’.

But, that’s wrong. 1 million views is buttons, small fry. There are 8 billion people on the planet. 1 percent of that is the equivalent of 3.7 x Mexico Cities. I’ve been to Mexico City 3.5 times and it is indescribably big. I hope this is putting it all into perspective for you? I’ve managed to amass 53 followers over 10 years. 75% of which are almost certainly not real. I hope you realise that this is an incredible achievement. And, to do it for free. From the good of my heart. And am I complaining?! Yes. That is what this whole thing is. Fill your boots.

Today I saw a video with 162 million views. That is over 1 percent of the earth, except it’s not, is it? Did you know the earth is 4.25 billion years old and there are fourteen million people in Dhaka.
Katie Melua was a prophet.
I never thought I’d get to this place.

Finally though, the above, while obviously evidence of some type of mental decline, is also cause for optimism. Hopefully this won’t read as awful white guy optimism, but that’s what it is. That’s what all of this is. 1 million views is nothing, I’m inspired. Maybe I’ll make a youtube channel to go with the ss. A billion podcast listens, no problem. Piece of piss. An onlyfans raking in millions for my toenails, why not? It’s all the preserrve of a very strang type of people. (Ed- He’s talking about you.)

But you try creating an industry Southside-of-Edinburgh-leading lifestyle blog and ongoing metaphysical, philosophical investigation that’s been running for 10 years that still no one knows about, now you’re challenging me. You couldn’t do it if you tried. Subscribe now!

P.S. I’m aware at how bad this all is. Is the problem that I’m commodifying the one bit of my soul that is worth something? Yes. But lets also not infer value where there is none. Also, isn’t it rank how the neoliberalism of social media has crept into our thinking. Even I, Chief investigator of Matters Hummelian, who has been so resistant to all of it. I too am poisoned from the well. I, who resisted instagram, youtube and tinder through suspicion. Suspicion that I might just have a good time, well look at me now. Counting views for the videos I was never brave (or stupid) enough to make! Who’s laughing now? Who’s the real winner?!

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Mr. Hummels.