I sent my friends a screenshot of my site traffic today, because the number of unique visitors ended with 666. As the writer of a metal site, I am duty bound to point out the Number of the Beast with it occurs. This post, however, is not about evil. This post is about love. 

I started Both Kinds of Heavy as an outlet to share some of my silly thoughts and as a means of expressing myself. While I hoped that other people would read it, I never really expected it to gain any kind of real readership. It was a labor of love, pure and simple. 

And yet, for some reason, people are reading it. Or at least some AI bots or web scrapers are reading it. I'm not saying this site is ever going to be the next Pitchfork or even the next Invisible Oranges. Let's face it, a site dedicated to fitness and heavy metal is kind of a dumb idea. Nevertheless, thousands of people have read my site. Not hundreds or thousands or even tens of thousands yet, but thousands nevertheless. Mostly in the United States and Canada, but apparently several dozen in Germany, for some reason. 

I want to thank each and every person who has taken the time to read something on this site, and to offer up this suggestion: That silly idea you have? You should do it.

I'll confess that I don't know exactly where the original idea for this site came from, but it's likely that I just wanted to give myself an excuse to babble about all the albums I was going to babble about anyway. I do know that I was at least partially inspired by an article I read (and I wish I could remember where so I could cite it) that argued that people need to get back to creating their own personal sites like they did back in the early days of the internet, when the vast majority of websites were weird little passion projects. Back before social media, if you wanted to dump the contents of your weird little brain online, you had to build that shit yourself. It was a time when being online meant constantly coming across things that were unexpected and delightful. Even better, the internet wasn't controlled by a handful a mega-corporations - it was a vast conglomerate of strange individual creations. The article argued that it would be better if we could return some portion of the internet to that previous form. 

I actually had another silly little music-based website back in those days, back in Nineteen Dickety Six (We had to say dickety, because the Kaiser had stolen our word ninety.) It was an even stupider idea than this one. It was the homepage, or so it claimed, of the Yngwie Rutger's University, Butt-Town Campus." The name was derived from the combination of guitarist Yngwie Malmsteen, actor Rutger Hauer, and the Iggy Pop song "Butt Town." Like I said, stupid. The crowning achievement of this website was the article about the "Lemmy-Boltometer," which was a scientific measurement of whether things were cool or sucked. If they were cool, they possessed "Lemmys," named obviously after the coolest person to ever live, Motorhead's Lemmy Kilmister. If they sucked, they possessed "Boltons," named after (again, obviously), smooth jazz musician Michael Bolton. Looking back now as an adult, Lemmy is still pretty damn cool, and I now realize that Michael Bolton is probably a super decent guy who didn't do anything to deserve this stupid shit.

I'm not saying that if you have an idea as dumb as the Lemmy-Boltometer that you should keep it to yourself. I'm saying the exact opposite. You, dear reader, should do that thing that's lurking in the back of your head. Start your own dumb website. Write your story. Make that short film. Bake your erotic cakes. You almost certainly have some idea percolating in the back of your head that you've thought about for years without taking action on. Life is short. Life is hard. We probably only get one shot at it. DO THE THING.

If my silly junk can find an audience, so can yours. 

I'm probably preaching to the choir here. Hell, I write about heavy metal, for God's sake. No one in 2026 is starting a metal band expecting to get rich or famous. Just take a look at the life-changing Fire in the Mountains festival (which inspired me to get off my ass and take this site to the next level). It was an event that profoundly touched thousands of people, and half of the bands on that bill still have day jobs. They're creating the music that's in their souls because they need to. 

It's a labor of love. 

We all have love in us. We all have passions. All of us, deep inside, have things we want to express. We want to sing and dance and write and draw and back and create. 

But most people don't. Most people go through life with those urges bottled up. I think it's a big reason why there is so much rage in the world - too many people are afraid to show their secret hearts. 

You can be one of those people who keeps things bottled up. But you don't have to be. You can let your passion out, whatever it is. And you don't even have to be creative (although I think everyone is in some way or another). Maybe you're super passionate about, I dunno, collecting vintage socket sets. Then do that. Be the best collector of vintage socket sets the world has ever seen. 

Maybe your passion is helping others with theirs. Then do that. Maybe you don't have a movie idea in you, but your kid does. Mine sure does. Help that kid make his freaky little idea come to life. 

Maybe you're a dude in his late 40s with a super niche website idea who doesn't know how to end a late-night brain dump article. Hey, there's room for more than one of us out there.

Do your thing. Love what you love. And maybe, just maybe, others will love it, too.