I heard of this site named Rexxfield, ( http://www.rexxfield.com/ ) who specializes with online reputation and some methods for repairing them. One method that I found very interesting is their OLIMIRE™ process that uses web search engine’s criteria to push offensive sites off the first page of Google Searches, or at the very least, below the fold. (FYI, the “Fold” of a web page is where the bottom of the screen is, and you need to scroll down to see the rest. It’s usually about 700 to 800 pixels down from the top of the visible window of your browser.)
I’m contacting this company hoping that they could help me improve my own personal reputation. The proprietor of this company’s writing a book about it and he’s looking for case studies. However, I have the feeling that I could be a rather formidable challenge for him, mainly because most of the flack in my Google searches are caused by my own hand. Mainly, the old fanfictions of the late 90s to early ‘naughts that I don’t even have on my page anymore, but other people have gladly offered in their own pages without my permission or control. These sites, of course, have a higher rank than my own site, and it has gravely affected my chances for personal development and even, in general, get over with what happened in the past.
The point is this: I’m sorry for writing ‘Piasa’ the way I did. I want to rewrite it and make it what it should have been (a domestic take on a Toho-style Godzilla movie) all along. I’m sorry for ‘Sailor Moon: American Kitsune.’ I’m sorry for making the original version of ‘BAM’ the quagmire it became. I’m sorry for all those half-assed works, both in word and in art, that most people troll me over. I’m sorry for getting so bogged down in the flack that I end up dropping projects and looking for a better replacement in areas that might not welcome me in. And I’m especially sorry for being an ass about it all. I wish I’ve never done any of it. I wish I could leave it behind–it is over a decade old, I need to say–and move on with my life.
Problem is, I’m just not allowed.
Not as long as the Encyclopedia Dramatica and the other anti sites stuck on me like the Scarlet Letter remain in top ranking on Google searches of my name. Without this digital millstone around my neck, I would have forgotten all about these sites, or at least, be in on the so-called ‘joke.’
If you think what they do is harmless and accuse me of whining, let me ask you this: If I came looking for a job, and all you see in me is the Google search, would you hire me? Would you take as much as a passing glance at my resume or my submission? Would you ever consider what I can contribute to your organization or company, or even your life? Would you think of anything other to do than dress me down–in public for added effect–and see me get thrown out of your sight? Regardless of who I am now and how far I’ve matured since then?
People say I should be happy that I’m famous. Well, with this level of Fame, I should be getting offers to do books and movies. Projects that should get me off Social Security.
At the heart of the matter–the reason why I’m still here–is the one thing I want out of life. The one thing that’s hopelessly impossible for me to get in some areas: Forgiveness. Redemption. An image of me that’s different than what I’ve gotten–deservingly so–during the nineties.
I want to be known for what I can do, instead of someone else’s lulz.
That’s why I’m looking into this Rexxfield comapny, with the hopes that I can at least salvage some good out of what could be the worst public reputation anyone outside of politics could ever have.
It’s also why I want to publicly thank each and every one of you who still welcome me into your sites, groups, hearts, and minds. There isn’t that many places I can go that doesn’t troll me outright, and I feel strongly connected to the sites that do.
To all else, I want to ask you this: I don’t know if you’re either a diehard troll who considers anybody who’s not you as a irredeemable faggot or someone who’s just heard of my ‘reputation’ and want to know more about me directly. I won’t make that distinction now. What I’m asking out of you is something small, but at times would seem easier to rather cure cancer or change the orbit of the earth: I want you to keep an open mind about me. I’m not the David Gonterman of over a decade ago, when I was younger and foolish. I want you to think–maybe in spite of either one of us–that I can be different than the image some has in me. And that I can be better than who I was and will continue to do so.
Thank you.