Online journalism's dirty little secret: it was never truly profitable. It relied on sugar daddies who are starting to wise up to their snarky charms.

Online journalism was always a sham in that they never did the journalism differently, even though they could have, and easily.

Now investors are starting to balk at giving more money to these snarky and swaggering leeches.

Crunchbase is an interesting hub to see which online publications got money, type of rounds, how many rounds, and the like. While businesses raise capital as par for the course, the idea of bootstrapping never crosses their minds.

Bootstrapping is a superior way of doing things. For one, you live and die by your own investment. There is no cushy delusions that you are doing well. You are beholden to no one, and that means your outlet is your own lab to connect to audiences to see what works, and what doesn’t.

Bootstrapping is for the honest folk. It takes longer to grow your business, and it is slower, but that an advantage: flash in the pan is fad-driven, and it doesn’t work in the long-term.

But people who would to brag and gloat don’t like the idea of earning their keep. They want to crow about their success, even though it isn’t real success.

Journalism should have always went by means of bootstrapping. I did Chaser News that way, and had life been reasonable, I could have weathered it out. I pulled back, but now I am re-inventing it…but through bootstrapping. A Dangerous Woman is the same way, and I am now actively experimenting on business models through the theory that bootstrapping is the superior way for an alternative to journalism to find the grit of traction and grow.

You can’t keep pouring money into a venture that is not producing income without the help. It is the reason I do not believe in donation or government-funded journalism: if you are useful, people will buy your product. You buy aspirins. You buy gasoline. You buy food.

You will buy information that is relevant to your progress and survival.

I have more books on my shelves than I care to admit. I have books in mountain of boxes right now, on shelves, and against a wall. I have read almost every one except the ten I bought just before I moved, and I will read them all. I have a Debrett’s manual. I have DSM 5. I have books on Clarice Cliff. I have books on educational psychology. I have a manual on cultivated plants. I have a book on aerogeology. I have a book on the genocidal mentality. I have a book on the history of jewelry. I have a book on scientific fraud. I have encyclopedias on games, philosophy, famous authors, weapons, and fictional characters. I have a book in Japanese right on my desk, and it is hardly the only one. I have books in German, French, Serbian, and even Latin.

I have an atrociously vague Serbian cookbook whose instructions are knee-slappers:

How to make Blueberry Jam:

The same way you make strawberry jam.

Gee, thanks a lot!

It never tells you what temperature to crank up your oven, or how long to cook, let alone the amounts for various ingredients, yet my grandmother used it, and made fabulous things from it because it was for people who had an innate feel for cooking and baking.

Those books I bought for the most part, from Amazon, bookstores, library book sales, church sales, the Re-Store, and some I got for free at one campus library that was giving away books, sized me up as a book lover as I stumbled in to look for a reference, and then the librarians grabbed a bunch of bags and then ordered me to take as many books as I could, even though I insisted on buying them, but you don’t argue with librarians.

My mother thinks that I am a book addict, but I love learning. Tsundoku is not a word to describe my habits. I read my books, and remember things from them, and when I do research for the books that I write, those books are heavily used. Some are not even obvious.

For example, when I research on deceptions, I read my books on stage magic, and method acting, looking for the scaffolding in order to look for the nuances of deception.

I just bought a book an hour ago on Amazon.

I use search engines, and databases, but I pay for books. I pay for information.

So what the hell happened to journalism?

Why can’t they get people to pay?

Simple: there is nothing there to buy.

That’s the real problem in democracy: the legacy media is horrid, and so is the online versions.

And that’s where my journey into bringing an alternative to life begins…