Unquiet Desperation
Back in late 2005, I was miserable at my job and feeling the weight of everything. Pressure at home, stress at work, and a general sense of malaise hung over me like a storm cloud. The political climate didn't help—a Republican administration was steering the country through another four years of chaos, and the aftershocks of 9/11 were still rippling through everything. Gulf War II was raging on, and for those of us with a creative, liberal bent, the moment felt overwhelming. I needed to do something—anything—to push back against the darkness, to make my world feel just a little brighter. Something creative. Something collaborative.
That’s when I discovered podcasting. It was still in its infancy, but I was fascinated by the early shows I found. I quickly realized I had the tools to join in, so I did. I launched my first podcast, Unquiet Desperation. The name, a nod to the Thoreau quote, captured my mood at the time. But the content was more than just an outlet for my frustration—it was a way to connect with others. I sought out people with compelling stories, particularly those pursuing their passions outside of their day jobs. In truth, it was an excuse to build bridges in a world that often felt isolating.
That first podcast opened doors I didn’t expect. It led to new opportunities, more podcasts, and friendships with people like me—frustrated yet creative, passionate, and determined to connect through this burgeoning medium. Back then, podcasting wasn’t a tool for marketing personalities; it was raw, punk, and full of heart. It was a space for nerds, geeks, and artists—the people who make life worth living. I’m proud to say I’ve held on to many of those friendships, even now.
My podcasting journey lasted about seven years, and while it was a blast, the landscape began to change. Business sank its claws into the medium, and monetization became the goal. I didn’t begrudge people for wanting to make a living doing what they loved, but as the focus shifted to slick marketing and relentless advertising, the authenticity I’d cherished started to fade. I wasn’t interested in that version of podcasting, so I stepped away.
Now it’s 2024. The political landscape feels just as bleak—arguably worse. The Worst Republican imaginable is poised to take office, and the despair among my friends and peers is palpable. Once again, I find myself restless, uneasy, desperate to channel these feelings into something meaningful.
The dictionary defines “unquiet” as “not inclined to be quiet or inactive; restless; uneasy; anxious.” “Desperation” is “a state of despair, typically one which results in rash or extreme behavior.”
Yeah, that tracks. Anyone else feel the same way?
I need to act. So, I’ve decided to bring back my podcast. It was born in difficult times, and difficult times are coming again. I'm not sure this will be the title though it is definitely the inspiring feeling. I’m not sure what it will look like yet, but I know this: I’m done being quiet. My wife calls my last decade “midwesting”—going along, not making trouble, keeping my head down. For a while, I thought I had nothing left to say.
Turns out, I was wrong.
This podcast won’t be about money. No ads. No gimmicks. Just honest conversations, maybe some interviews, and a whole lot of catharsis. Beyond that, who knows?
What I do know is this: I’m ready. If you are too, let’s do this together.
Wanna come along for the ride?