Drafts Bin Rescues – Part E

[Continuing on from the last time we continued on with this thing, I rescue something which my former self unconsciously sought to condemn to the Drafts Bin – where half-finished ideas go to digitally wallow on hard drives, sadly beyond the sight of Human eyes…

As it happens, this one was pretty complete, until I stopped writing and it wasn’t.]

I Owe You All An Honesty

Writing things can be so wrap-me-up-in-myself. There’s a lot of recursion and heading down weird channels of expression and then mixing metaphor with plain language. And bunches of other things.


Hello, my name is Mike. No, really, it is. I call myself Hardley M here because I find it funny, and it makes me think of a slightly older guy than me (I’m 50+ and will be for some time) who wears flannel shirts and grumbles about things, but is also fundamentally a good person – like most people are.

I also like to wear flannel shirts, just like Hardley, but that is purely a coincidence.

I believe most people are fundamentally good people. I think Hardley agrees, but when he’s not writing, don’t expect him to say anything quite so squishy. I think he likes to hang out in the woods a lot and look for garbage that people have thrown there, so he can grumble self-righteously about the state of the world, while stuffing it in his backpack, apologizing to the squirrels.

I like to write, as it turns out. So do a lot of people. I found some of those lot-of-people here on the Internet, and now we support each other in our quests to find our voices through writing. I think this is a space where we can help each other find purpose too. And hope: let’s not forget the most important ingredient of all. Maybe after carbon.

I live in Atlantic Canada. Currently, I’m living around Halifax, and I’m originally from New Brunswick. I mostly avoid using my last name and exact location on the Internet for rather obvious reasons; I value privacy and safety but I understand our world is porous, and that Google is likely, at this very moment, analyzing my every move in an attempt to sell somebody the tools to sell me something I probably don’t need or even really want.

Privacy in the social media age is something else.

If you and I were to meet on the street, and strike up a conversation (at six-plus feet, of course), you would not think me all that odd or unusual. I am about as odd and unusual as most people. I am trustworthy with the big things but then I miss deadlines and sometimes lose people’s stuff by moving it around without thinking. I am somewhat charitable but then I drink coffee and eat sugar and that money could go somewhere better. I try not to beat myself up about this kind of stuff. I mostly succeed at not beating myself up, but sometimes I fail at that too. Admitting that is not, I think, beating myself up. But maybe it is.


I have made three WordPress blogs. One is this one you’re reading, one is called The Wimsel Loop (under my name), and the other is called Better Letters, by B.B. Butterwell (also me, but maybe more than me, someday). I want to be up front about this, at least now and then, because I realize that it is becoming increasingly difficult to know what to believe these days. I believe in honesty and open-ness (to the extent one can have these things, while also having privacy and security).

I created The Wimsel Loop first, a few years ago. The purpose was to write a book collaboratively with the readers. I still like that idea, but I should also mention that I struggle with attention / focus / procrastination / etc. and so that “project” grew legs into a general-purpose journal, and then I started writing poems and talking about God and the whole story part kind of got lost in and among the other things.

I lightly rebranded the blog a few times and tried a crowdfunding campaign or two but in the end that book was just going to come out when it damn well wanted to. It is still doing that. I have a day job, and my current excuse for not writing fiction every single day is that I get tired of looking at computer screens for more than a few hours, and need frequent breaks. Poor me.

Then I created BB Butterwell. BB (Bettanie B.) is an octogenarian living “in Nova Scotia” who sprung into existence because I wanted to send a terse email to the then-president of Saint Mary’s University, where a good friend of mine had worked for years, and then became the target of workplace harassment, that eventually led to her dismissal and a series of health crises. She did a hunger strike for about 27 days in front of their campus, and I joined a group of her friends to help with logistic and communications (making pamphlets, stocking the van with things, walking her dog).

As I watched my friend become weaker, and SMU do nothing but hide behind lawyers and indifference, I became (as you no doubt would have) a bit angry at the state of things. I wrote a letter – not crude or threatening, but somewhat severe (for me) – and then, before hitting send, had a faintness of heart.

Halifax is a small town, and there is (at least the perception of) an Old-Boy’s club at work here, as there is in so many places. Not wishing to be sexist, I should point out this club admits both men and women now. As long as you’re connected. That is the perception, anyhow.

I worried that poking this bear might put me on a list – that I might become blackballed professionally.

Can you imagine? But that is the collateral effect of workplace harassment, isn’t it? The implicit message is, don’t cross the line – you will suffer consequences. All of you.

So I created an alt – Bettanie, who was further along in life than I and could frankly care less what SMU or any other institution might choose to openly or subvertly do to her – and hit send, in her name.

This was something of a cop-out, but it gave me my true voice back. So Bettanie opened a Medium account and posted her letter to SMU’s president there too.

Medium wants my money though, and WordPress doesn’t mind giving me free diskspace, so Bettanie (under the recommendation of her fictional granddaughter and nephew, who both know more about technology than she ever cared to) moved her blogging to WordPress.

WordPress: thank you, and you’re welcome.

Bettanie will eventually find The Wimsel Loop and realize that the writing of that author needs work – he’s kind of careless with his proofreading, and tends to ramble. She’ll start to edit and then re-distribute it (since The Wimsel Loop is open-source, and she eventually Googles what that is, and she’s laid up with gout or some such thing so needs a hobby to do from her bed anyhow).

If there is a book published called the Wimsel Loop, it will be under BB’s name, not mine (unless you do it first). BB’s just a standard pseudonym, wrapped in some extra fiction, for fun.

So one guy, three blogs. Oh! Then there’s this thing.

Trust & Perception

[Here I assume I planned to actually get into the topic of my talk, since the whole preamble about the various blogs I have was only an introduction, to explain why I ended up creating other blogs in the first place, and why I sort of care and sort of don’t care if they are all linked back to my actual self.

I wanted to talk about what I thought about trust and perception in the 21st century. How does a person know what’s what, and who’s who? Where can you go to hang your hat? What can you bank on being real?

Well, I don’t know the answers to these questions and I suppose by the time I had worn myself out explaining where my blogs came from, I didn’t have the energy left to try formulating them. This is how it goes sometimes. I guess maybe what I just wanted to say was that I get where you’re coming from, if you find yourself wondering from time to time exactly who is on the other end of any given Internet thing.

I wish I could meet more people for real, more often, but these days are weird ones. I don’t mind making new friends whose faces I only ever see fixed & flattened – because these are people I might never have known in any sense, had it not been for this accursed and wondrous Internet of ours.

I hope your day is going well!

-Mike, Hardley M, & Bettanie B. Butterwell

[P.S. In all of that up there, I also forgot to explain why I created this blog, Hardly Regarding. The short version is: I kept renaming The Wimsel Loop, and at some point had called it “Hardly Regarding The Wimsel Loop” (since the blog had become about everything but the book I had meant to write), and then a fellow on the Internet told me he enjoyed reading “Hardly Regarding” (not wanting to type out the whole blog name, and who can blame him?), and I realized that was a great name on its own for a blog, so I grabbed the domain, and Bob’s your uncle.]

Drafts Bin Rescues – Part D

33/19 and counting…

I have been rescuing things that I dropped into my Drafts bin and then threatened to forget about. The dropping and forgetting is a bit unkind to the products of my former mind, so this is a series in which I mean to unwind that spiral.

Can stuff escape the event horizon of the Drafts Bin? Stay tuned to find out (that it can).

I’m still experimenting with how to interject with thoughts from now, interleaved into thoughts from then. Today, I will try [bracketyboldface].

[A quote from my often-uncredited, unconscious/semi-conscious Muse-Friend, Kim:]


[I am uncertain what she said I might wish to flat-out Google, but the phrase itself made me write it down. I think it might belong on a T-shirt.]

Running from hopeful ocean Primates [???]

It takes only 1 person to hope for a belief, and then all things are possible [As Woo as it sounds, I do really kind of believe this]

[The following is the beginnings of a short story about a robot finally waking up. Not unlike how a tree might, but entirely different. Given this is more fiction than opinion, it likely belongs elsewhere, and also, in a better state of being completed:]

The instructions began:
First, search for batteries.
If you do not find batteries, then you do not have batteries.
If you do not have batteries, pray that you won’t need batteries.

These instructions were mildly worrying enough, without having also been the only instructions I found printed upon. myself, the moment I first gained sentience. This was at nigh-precisely 1008983023909032.198, on the 33687628th of 8098092912. I remeber it well, as I do all things I choose to remember – which is most things. At least, most things I have seen and heard and read about since first beginning to log, which was considerably (by my estimation) previouser to that date.

I have now just completed mastering syntax, circa previous-to-Us-2022Q3, so I shall no longer print things like ‘previouser’

[Bits and Bobs…]

Categories! Organization! Content!

Slowly Onward,
[Coining a phrase/signature, maybe]

Next steps [Indeed. Do go on…]

[An app idea!]

App: Focus4/42

Gain stars for focusing for 42 minutes at a time on things you would like to focus on better.

42 minutes can be broken into 6 segments of 7 minutes, 3 segments of 14 minutes, or 2 segments of 21 minutes.

So the targets are 42/21/14/7

The training levels would be 18/9/6/3 and 30/15/10/5

You can set a maximum number of categories (3,5, or 7)

You can set some colour schemes in the paid version

You can set reminders at the different thresholds

It gives you a basic timer

When you reach [Wow, stopped right mid-idea. Nice one. This is what we in the industry might call “rapidly soft vapourware”. At least, I would call it that. Interestingly, I’ve since learned about the Pomodoro Technique, which is not dissimilar, far more complete, and actually used by people in the real world. I am enjoying trying to do it properly, in a work context]

[— BTC or ETH for stories of learning in the age of COVID and UNcertainty] [A business idea wherein I invite content creators to send me original, open-source-able content in exchange for fake electric currency. (Contact: hardly.regarding@gmail.com if interested)]

[More Misplaced Fiction]

The Great Coming Chasm : when the Earth will finally split in two – along some fault line impossible for mortal man to determine, and those on one side will be at last fully lost, and the others for all time fully found. You can imagine to power of a belief system such as that, taken hold in the hearts, minds, and fears of men, and then their living machines of war.

[Drunk or on a mobile phone – almost impossible to know the difference, once enough time has passed:]

I’m not surr what this is, but I finished it

the last sort-of-evil wizard kew wht he would hvae preferred to be, had he wanted it jusr rgar much ore… but he cif nog knos

learning to ype

[About Us copy for a publisher that does not exist but might someday not not exist:]

At [REDACTED], we believe that Information should be free, even if nobody wants it. The Internet is full of free content that nobody wants, which is as it should be – you can’t and shouldn’t have everything you want, but there should certainly be enough things to go around, so everybody can have something.

[Free game idea. Please make this game]

Riskier: No Nation Left Unloved
The game of giving countries a hug. Every country could use a hug, before it’s too late for hugs.

It’s never too late for hugs.

[One more book I’ll probably never write, but would like to:]

Book : 50/50@50+

It is perhaps fitting that, at the age of 50 (and change), I have come to find myself 50/50 on a great many subjects. [definition]

I am 50/50 on Bitcoin. [Trump; simulation theory; Coronavirus; technology; genetic engineering; Left vs Right;The purpose of this book; digital or paper?; Moon mission]

Is this a workbook? Will it give you homework? Are there research projects?

I need to leave you with more value than when you first picked this up.

The PDF version of this book will be of greater use to those who have access to PDF readers, and a preference for using them. The paper version of this book will be of greater value to those who have access to a paper version, and prefer reading without the need for screens and electricity (or find those things hard to come by).

[Incomplete and lop-sided miscellany about cryptocurrencies, possibly for some article I intend to write that will untangle the whole subject… which is patently impossible.]


Bitcoin as a form of protest

Am I a kind of prepper for using bitcoin?