A Fevered State of The Union Twentieth Post Address

I am currently contending with one of the most cutthroat and ambitious respiratory infections I have ever experienced. This diva wouldn’t let me ditch her at CVS; no, she had to have an eight-hour first date at the ER. Anyway, I promise I’m fine, and I did not want to miss my twentieth update. I’m also extremely sick and kinda sleepy, so let me speak from the heart.

Someone asked me recently if I could tell him how to reach an audience with niche queer content; ah, sweet summer child. My writing career is the Goofus side of the cartoon, not the Gallant. Watch Goofus spend years building cred as a queer women’s humorist and essayist, only to bravely come out as a forty-year old white guy from Chicago who loves porn. And now Goofus is on the job market again with an…MFA? Jesus Christ, Goofus!

Self-deprecation is funny to a point, but the fact is that this website exists because I do know how to find my audience, and I don’t wish to insult you any further. Apocalypse From Now On is pure public radio from the depths of hell, paid in full by Viewers Very Specifically Like You.

There are plus sides to this model. I can say whatever I want here, and nobody can stop me. For example: I couldn't care less if somebody thinks my fat furry transmasculine body is gross, especially in a queer kink space. I think you’re gross, and a bad person! Your loss, please enjoy a lifetime of uninspired sex with yourself.

See? Being a jackass is cathartic, but I do take this work seriously, which is why I am trying to find a way to keep doing it in an environment that is hostile towards…well, everything I love. Some of you are here for my fat ass, and god bless you for that. But most of you are here for the brain BEHIND the ass, and it’s silly to pretend this site is something it’s not. So, I’ve reorganized the subscription tiers:

• Patrons of Harm ($6 per month/$66 per year) is a new tier for people who want to support the site, but don’t want a subscription to erotic photography. (I get it, you have kids or whatever, it’s fine.) You’ll still have access to everything else, and I’m working on some extras to make it worth your while. In the meantime, you get to help me stay alive! Pretty cool!
• The Good Stuff ($5 per month/$55 per year) is unchanged and a bargain at any price. This tier has your ticket to the Subscriber’s Gallery. Perfect for pervs and casual looky-loos. 
• The Free Stuff will always be here, and it will always be free, and it will always have all the cool shit I can throw into it. I hope it brings you some joy. 

“Harm,” you may ask, “why is the tier where I get less content more expensive? That adds up to an additional twelve dollars a year, a princely sum that I could spend on an entire sandwich in a non-coastal city. Why should I give you my Indiana sandwich? By what right do you demand this?”

Reasonable! Here’s the thing: if you feel that way, the other tier is still there for you. Butt photos come with it, it’s the Hot-n-Ready transaction, that’s the deal. 

If you've got a couple extra bucks and you believe in supporting trans art and literature, if you want to see this work continue past our first stumbling year, If you’re ready to see exactly how weird and deep the apocalyptic rabbit hole in my brain goes: welcome. I also want that work to happen, and I want you to see it. If you can swing it, I am asking for a downpayment, a leap of faith with a dollar bill attached, so I know I’m heading in the right direction. 

And if you can’t pay a dime, thank you for showing up and reading the work. That's all I really want anyways. The majority of my content will be free as long as I can manage it, and we’ll enjoy the ride together till it stops.

(I’m not saying I’ll stop, because I don’t care about any other work than this. But imagine if it could sustain me as diligently as I sustain it? That’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted, and I’m closer than I have ever been. Why not ask for what I need? Why not make the leap, and hope I’ll land clean?)

Anyways. It’s time for me to hit my inhaler, so let’s call it. Happy twentieth post to all of us. If you’ve read this far, thank you for being a part of this weird thing I am doing, however you happen to be here, whatever you're getting out of it. <3