12/21/25
As we approach Christmas--which happens to be my birthday--I am wrapping up my promotions push for my new book, "The Sacred Carol: Rediscovering the True Authorship of a Christmas Classic." So far I have sold nine copies, not counting one purchased by a curious friend. I'm told that Amazon's sales reporting can be two weeks behind, or more, so it's kind of like watching the light from a star, which you know actually represents the past.

As of around the first I should receive 20 hard copies from IngramSpark, and it will be time to think about which libraries to send them to. They may all end up in the "Friends of the Library" sales bin for 25 cents. Perhaps someone will buy it, read it, realize it's for real, and send it to their uncle, the English professor at Harvard. You just never know how these things could work.

I do know it only takes one.

My Facebook posts are getting far more "likes" than laughing emojies or negative comments, but I got an interesting--and infuriating--comment today. I don't mind the trolls. I sometimes answer them something along the lines of: "Do you think that your cynical two-word jab somehow negates my decade and a half of rigorous research?" But this was something else. This person said she was "seriously interested," but before she bought the book, she wanted to know whether the authorities had endorsed it. In other words, had I published in peer-reviewed journals, and had there been scholarly peer validation for my work.

I've seen this before, on occasion. These people are living in a fantasy world--the world where everything you read about in your textbooks is true, and all of science and academia is honest and impartial. The world where Harvard's motto, "Veritas," means that Harvard follows the truth wherever it leads, irregardless of how it may make anyone in high authority look.

I have been rudely thrust out of that world. This lady may not understand, and you may not understand, but AI, in the converstions I've had with it, understands. (As much as AI "understands" anything.) These officials have a price. If any new theories or discoveries will make them, or their institution look foolish; if any paper severely challenges the assumed body of knowledge; it doesn't matter how good your evidence is. It will be summarily dismissed.

And if you are a real pioneer, presenting discoveries which make every English department in the world look foolish, well, you can forget getting published, and you can forget getting any endorsements. You won't be cited, and in fact, nobody in academia will pay the slightest attention to you. You are persona non grata.

Now, it is quite true that the crazy person will receive the same treatment. The professional cameraman who shoots for National Geographic, and the rank amateur, will come back with exactly the same number of good photographs, if someone steals their camera batteries. But that doesn't mean the rank amateur is on the same level as the professional cameraman.

So, not getting the answer she wanted, very likely she will not purchase my book. She has therefore insulated herself from seeing the evidence, and she remains unchanged from what she was when she asked the question. She has instituted a policy of guaranteed mediocrity, which is what the universities are also doing. They are filtering out both ends of the bell curve--the low end, and the high end.

I learned something very discouraging today--almost discouraging enough to cause me to stop writing these entries. I had been seeing what I thought was increased interest in this blog, up to as many as 13 hits. But then I looked more closely and asked AI about the numbers. Turns out robot hits have gone up to as many as eight per file. That means this 13 represents five people. Which means the most hits I ever get on even the most popular entries, is five.

It doesn't pay to discover something so strong, that nobody believes you. If I'd wanted success and recognition, I would have done better to discover one of the least important elements of my research, and only claim that much. In Academia, I could be famous for proving that one of the most popular parodies of "The Raven" premiered in an unsuspected publication, on Dec. 18, 1852, instead of in 1853 as believed. But to claim that the author of this parody was also the real author of "The Raven," etc. etc., is just too far beyond anyone's boggle threshold; and too profound a challenge to the status quo.

Don't kid yourself--it doesn't pay to excel beyond a certain point. I was going to say it doesn't apply to sports, but then I thought of how they're treating Jannik Sinner.

Sincerely,

Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.