I finally saw Mean Girls and I get so many more things, about life, myself, and ~20 year old memes.
So without further ado, the gist of this “essay” in two unambiguously crystal clear frames:
Ok, sorry, sorry. Sorry, sorry sorry sorry. (I’m Canadian.)
I want to convey to you complexity, and limited time on earth. How multiplying these two ideas in your head should lead to terror, dread, no, something more - terrifying life-fright, for your life. You should feel that death is imminent (at a large scale, if you zoom out - if you do the opposite of “double clicking” which people do in public - you should know that death, yours, everyones, is tomorrow afternoon, at best).
Time passes, life passes, work passes. And yet we are here debating as to how to release projects, what to show, where, when, how to best procrastinate, what to hide, what to be proud of, hobbies we want to start considering.
I adore life, life is God, I am in love with all that it is. But I also fear that everyone is planning a bit TOO MUCH. This is not anti intellectualism, I promise (start wearing purple), you should plan a bit if you are to build a bridge, if you are planning on flying two hundred and seven souls over the Atlantic Ocean, etc. You know who you are.
If you’re about to surgeon someone’s kidney, this blog posting is not for you. Close this browser tab, Doctor, go forth, clean your fingernails, we root for your profession. Thank you for it all.
But you - not you, you - you who are doubting, or who are excited for a future you just imagined (a project! an idea! a thing others might eventually start calling art!) - you, who must now put pedal and metal together, you, who went from the high of “what if’fing” to “how-the-hell’ing” – YOU, you should learn to 20/80.
I really actually want to say you should actually 10/90 or 1/99. But you/we/I are not ready. So 20/80.
You’ve heard of “80/20”? That “shipping 80% is probably enough”? And that the “last” 20% part of any project is ok to punt for later/never?
People mean so much or not much at all when they say 80/20 - they are maybe telling you that you can skip a feature, or not have to “ship a perfect thing that’s perfect” (hint: it has never happened for a thing to feel perfect or done, to anyone, ever). They are suggesting, in various amounts of conviction, to “80/20 it.” They are brave, they are smart, they are polite, they are your friends.
I am your friends too but I want (desperately) to embody the Gremlin, the Domovoy, the spirit of endless struggle and fleeting accomplishment, I want to whisper to you in a creepy ghostly voice that your muse is in you, but that this muse is a very quiet life partner and it will not give you the motivation you so seek/want/hope/are so cutely desperate for.
Stop treating your muse as a coach.
You must ship right this second. Your “”””””"”unfinished””” (bs) “”"”un-ready””” (lies) project/idea/poem/film/remix/robot arm/youtube clip of counting down from a million underwater is done.
You must send that email now. Embody the cringeness of it all - love is so shamelessly cringe (((twitter reference for those playing at home))) yet how would we live without love - celebrate your many faults and quirks, and parade them all. You, beautiful blob of humus (did you know the singular of humus is “human” - don’t look it up) must send it, right now.
Disney+ shipped without a “Continue Watching” button, and the iPhone shipped without copy-paste. They referred to these supposed-faults as “marketing” and “genius.” They did not renounce, cower, or wimp - you will henceforth never do that either. You would like to but I will not allow it.
🚢, goddamn you, 🚢. Ship that 20/80 demented mvp. SHOW IT TO US. Make the github repo public. Post a “Show HN” hosted on your laptop with an ngrok url - an actual act of naked bravery, more brave than embarking on a crossing of the Pacific at night on a catamaran you built from plans you found online.
I am lost in the essayistic sauce. I am rambling onto you. But I am still lucid enough to plead to you to trust yourself as much as you trust the bridges you fearlessly cross, as much as the shoes you walk in every day which shield your feet from glass, puddles, and random boluses of shit.
You know how to trust others, so trust yourself for once. 20/80 it. Stop making 20/80 not happen.
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