Matthew Wayne Selznick

On Thursday the 15th of October in 2004, I posted the first episode of my first podcast. So I’ve been podcasting for four years. Last year around this time, when I was awash in emotion and drama that was related in part to being a podcaster (no, I’m not going to elaborate, but thanks for asking, things are better but not perfect) the anniversary had some weight and meaning to it.

This year, I had to really push to make sure I put out a podcast on or around the anniversary date. Not because I didn’t want to or didn’t care… it’s simply a matter of time and opportunity. As in, there’s only so much of it. So I put together a music-and-promos episode of Sonitotum with a brief note at the beginning to mark the occasion. I just didn’t have the time or logistical convenience to observe the occasion in the podcast itself.

Blogging About Podcasting Like a Painting of a Song?

So I’m blogging about my podcast anniversary. Which says a lot, I suppose, about how I think about podcasting these days.

See, I don’t see podcasting as a movement in itself so much as I used to. Rather, it’s a very important tool in the kit bag of the larger force that is new- open- citizen- social-media. Just like blogging, video podcasts, tweeting, phonecasting, e-books and so on. Four years on, podcasting — while still far from mainstream and still way too difficult for the average person to find and engage with — is no longer at the forefront of the Conversation Age revolution.

We’re at the stage now where some podcasters are pushing to do revolutionary things with the medium as a content delivery system, especially in the podcast fiction and storytelling niches. Podcasting has already matured to the point where people are trying to stretch it. Simply being a podcaster is no longer innovative or bleeding edge. I see that as a good thing… it’s a sign that our means of expression (and so our culture) is evolving.

Evolution Brought Us The Carrion Flower, Too

Remember that evolution is not a march toward improvement, it’s a march toward adaptation with the goal of survival.

To whit: Four years on, I’ve noticed balkanization in the community. This is understandable and irritating and disappointing all at once, and I’m not the first person to point it out.

I recently received an invitation to join a Facebook group of podcasters where membership was set to secret and private. I had the same kind of reaction I imagine a parent feels the first time their child lies. It had to happen eventually, and in some sad way it’s a sign of growing up.

I didn’t join the group. I set it to “Ignore” or “Block” or whatever the Facebook equivalent of “piss off, wankers” is. Because — and maybe this is just me, and maybe it’s my idealism shining through… and maybe so what — podcasting should not be about exclusivity any more than it should be about celebrity.

Buying into the idea that you are an Internet celebrity (and that that means something) is a crutch of the self-deluded and socially inept, and the concept of a podcasting celebrity is just a tick on the dog. But just like the same kids start out friends in kindergarten and end up firmly entrenched in walled cliques by junior high, caste assignment is as inevitable as exclusion and fragmentation. In a medium where anyone can create, there will still be makers and consumers, and some folks on both sides have automatically and unquestioningly accepted unequal status. In this way even the wolves are sheep.

People will be people… but just like I did in the early months of the Yahoo! Podcasters group again and again, I still say you should reject that kind of arbitrary assignment of status.

Turn That Frown Upside Down!

So balkanization… misplaced celebrity… why so glum, chum? I know… I’m starting to sound like one of those old muppets sitting in the balcony, complaining about the entertainment they nevertheless show up to consume week after week.

I still love podcasts, and podcasting. Listening to the forty-odd podcasts of my friends both known and not known is pretty much the only way I get to connect with them on a regular basis. It’s very important to me; soul-nourishing, even.

I get a lot of enjoyment out of talking to the invisible, unseen you on the other side of the RSS feed. I wish I had more time to do it… and while finishing that latest episode of Sonitotum I realized I do have time to do it, if I can somehow record in my car while driving to and from work.

Cardboard Sign, Streetcorner

In a fit of panhandling more bold than I usually muster, I’m campaigning to raise three hundred bucks to buy a portable digital audio recorder. If I get it, I’ll be yammering on and on while I sit in traffic. That means more podcasting; more connecting to the distant starlight pinpricks of friendship I take such comfort from.

Update: As of October 23, I’m no longer employed by Mahalo.com, which means I no longer have a horrible commute every day, which means there’s no need to podcast from my car. More information on that situation, and what I’m raising money for instead.

With luck and quasi-anonymous generosity, year five as a podcaster will see… more podcasting. Different podcasting (commutecasting? Up to you.) More podcast fiction, one way or another. More sharing DIY, independent music. More sharing, period.

I Still Believe

That’s what all new media is to me. Sharing. Feeling more connected, less alone. Strengthening connections, building new ones… being human. Podcasting, like blogging and declaring what I’m doing and linking in and all of that… it’s part of tribal living. My tribe isn’t just a small clan of heartfast friends and loved ones, or a niche group of people playing with a niche media… to varying degrees, it’s everyone who listens, and asks to be listened to.

I may seem wildly inconsistent, bitching and complaining as often as I spout what must seem like blind idealistic optimism. I’m just being human, in public, out loud.

I’m glad you’re there, doing the same. Hello, and thanks. Happy anniversary.