Consider your favorite type of media or art. What is it? Music? Movies? Drawings of Car-Dragon love on DeviantArt? Now consider your least favorite artist or brand or stakeholder in that industry. Let's say you love movies but you don't care for Nic Cage. Imagine leaving the theater and posting a tweet that says "boy howdy, that nic cage sure does stink in this flick", and then several years later your name is permanently inseparable from that post. What would that signify? When it happened to me, it signified the exact moment that the videos I produced for fun had accidentally become significant.
If you perform a google search for "Internet Shaquille", the #5 result is a reddit post cataloguing every mean thing I ever said about anyone who posts about cooking online. (It'll probably become the #4 result after a hundred of y'all search for it and click on it.) All this took place several months after I had deleted my Twitter account for unrelated reasons (twitter sucks mega ass), but it didn't stop those enterprising reddit sleuths from digging up the evidence on the Wayback Machine. To the public, it now looks like I used to post nothing but mean-spirited complaints, then deleted my account as soon as I got called out.
The day this all blew up in my face was in fact a huge pain. I had to apologize to a couple folks via email for being a meanie, and I've been pretty much blacklisted from getting invited to "collab" on cooking vids. Still, I hold this moment in a sentimental spot of my heart, as if it were an injury sustained after performing a once-in-a-lifetime skateboard trick. I know what it's like to complain about the state of a certain industry or art form, effectively tossing my gripes into the void. I know what it's like to digitally scream "WHY IS EVERY VIDEO FIVE TIMES LONGER THAN IT NEEDS TO BE" to an audience of 200 for a dozen likes. This public reddit spanking, however, was the point at which it became apparent that my shitposts started to matter.
The stuff I was complaining about never changed. My tweets were rightfully written off as the reeeeeeees of a jealous small-potatoes wannabe. The work I produce now is far more influential than my written critiques ever were. My dinky little youtube channel turned out to prove that it is possible to pop off online without chasing algorithms. The lesson for me as an ~*influencer*~ and you as a ~*thoughtful media consumer*~ is that the most difficult, most effective, least reputation-ruining way to complain about something is to try making it yourself. One day I'll run out of ways to reference this freakin' book, but "the best way to complain is to make things better"
Christopher Macioci
2021-10-05 16:18:01 +0000 UTC