I’ve done plenty of work to cultivate the soil. Matt Labash: Oh, I don’t know about that. You're a farmer cursing the soil on his land instead of doing the work to improve it. This is what our discussion looked like, which I’m reprinting with light editorial clean-up, as we were spitting fire in the heat of a moment:ĭavid Atkinson: I agree Ramaswamy googled “MAGA beliefs” when creating his platform, but disparaging the voters is a poor strategy to convincing them. I just know that he posed real, articulate, hard-minded questions, and so I tried to provide equally hard-minded answers. I have not fully vetted him, and so if he turns out to be a kook, don’t hang it on me.
My co-combatant’s name is David Atkinson, a Slack Tide subscriber. When hate becomes the answer, we are sunk. Because we should never let hate be the answer to any question.
#Slack tide media how to
In that in-between tension, trying to figure out how to go forward with the people who disagree with us, but who we don’t actually hate, and sometimes even love. Because I think it’s where a lot of us are living at the moment. I recently spelled that out in my full-on Vivek Ramasmarmy hitpiece.) But I thought it might be instructive to reprint our conversation here, for those of you not on Notes. And I still believe in me, over his challenge. I’m a firm believer that we are made better from being forced to clarify our own beliefs. …….a fellow Substacker challenged me on my approach. (Sorry for all the naked transparency, will try to be less honest going forward.) But Notes occasionally takes me to interesting places. Maybe I’m just selfishly hoping for the occasional paid subscriber conversion.
#Slack tide media full
(Sorry kids, you’re still fifth place – not too shabby!) But for the aforementioned reasons, I decided to experiment with Notes a bit now and then, when I have something to say, but don’t want to wrap a full essay around it. (I would not!) I assure you I wouldn’t be writing it at all if I weren’t getting paid for it, as I’d rather be fly fishing or walking my dog or kayaking or chopping wood or spending time with my kids, in that exact order.
#Slack tide media free
I realize plenty of you free riders might think I look like I’m having so much fun (and I am!) that I might write this site just for fun. So chalk it up to a greedhead marketing ploy. (Hypocrisy, thy name is Matt Labash.)īut Notes, which has no word-count limit, and which feels a lot more like writing real emails to people you might want to actually talk to (email to friends and frenemies alike, being a place where I have long figured out future pieces, an essential ingredient of my writing life), seemed like a place where I might hit an audience bullseye, since everyone on Notes tends to already be Substack subscribers. I hate them all with my whole heart, though please re-Tweet this if you read it. I have never offered so much as a single post on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. Which is why if you’ve tried to follow me on Twitter, you can’t. I’m a firm believer that social media mostly destroys people, coaxing out their worst exhibitionistic instincts. (Ignore the Washington Examiner links, who stores our archive, those were Weekly Standard pieces). I have been, since social media was invented, a virulently anti-social-media guy. When Substack first announced their Notes in April – basically their equivalent of Twitter, or as Twitter’s demented boss Elon Musk calls it, “X,” or as I now call Twitter, “MySpace,” since that is the irrelevance Elon is driving Twitter to - I was skeptical. The debates, the arraignments, you know the drill. Life interrupts our best intentions, always. Which I suspect probably applies to a lot of you, as well, and is why I’m telling you so. So more to come at a later date.Įxcept that I keep getting interrupted by blasted politics, driving me to distraction. I regard that place as the center of the musical universe, as I care to know it. Which is never a bad place to swim, actually. I’ve re-read Robbie’s memoir, and Levon Helm’s, and re-watched all the documentaries on both. They are sad people.) And honest to God, I am working on that aforementioned piece.
(The others, who only listen to Taylor Swift and the like, said, “What the hell are you talking about? Does The Band know how to play ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’?” I pity them. To all my paid subscribers, I know I intimated last week that I was working on a Robbie Robertson/Band appreciation, which plenty of you expressed enthusiasm about. Rocky Marciano beating the snot out of Jersey Joe Walcott, 1952.
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