Yesterday was National Book Lovers Day, and on social media it came in like a lamb and went out with a whimper. On twitter, it never made Trending status in the many hours I was on which says a great deal about where everyone’s heads are these days. As expected, facebook and the mainstream media ignored it completely. Why? The answer is a simple one.
Readers a.k.a. thinking people, are dangerous to the rising regime.
“Book Lovers Day is celebrated on August 9 every year. This is an unofficial holiday observed to encourage bibliophiles celebrate reading and literature. People are advised to put away their smartphones and every possible technological distraction and pick up a book to read.” Wikipedia
I did my bit by contributing a half dozen tweets which were repeated on my facebook page that, not surprisingly, ranged from serious to amusing. Most saw no engagement. Yes some genuine book lovers tweeted, as well as some booksellers, but this was an opportunity missed by almost every author, publisher, educator, and library I know and about a million others I don’t.
The only business that has never seen a downturn is government.
Public servants my ass!
Government employees are a special kind of crazy—similar to academics—in that they are completely incapable of functioning in the real world.
You need only look at a ditch digging project where the white and blue hats outnumber the yellow hats—the only ones with tools—to see how far removed from reality they have become. Collectively, one blue hat, two white hats, and three yellow hats are costing the taxpayers about $350.00 per hour as they stand around talking while looking at the ditch.
Productivity and efficiency mean nothing to these people.
None are motivated to work hard or to get the job finished as fast and cost effectively as possible. Their jobs are secure for as long as they want them, and a significant pension awaits when they have had enough. In addition to their generous top-of-scale salaries, they and their families enjoy complete short and long-term disability insurance, medical, drug, and dental plans. . . all paid for by the taxpayers.
The blue and white hats decide to have lunch to discuss the hole in the ground further so they jump into three separate government vehicles which they pay nothing for, and they expense their two-hour $120.00 bistro “business lunch” back to the taxpayer. In a bizarre rationalization, they consider themselves to be taxpayers because they pay taxes, so they feel entitled to such expenses. To them, it is as though they are paying for their own lunch. With only an hour or so left in their workday, they all head home early to beat traffic.
Meanwhile in the real world. . .
Somewhere out there right now is a young guy with a family to support, driving a ten year-old pickup truck which he bought; paid to licence; pays insurance on; pays to maintain; pays to put fuel in, and who also bought the pick and shovels in the back with his own money.
He is digging a hole too.
He estimates one hard day of ditch-digging should get the job done. His hands will be blistered and his back will be sore come lunchtime when he gets to eat his brown-bagged mid-day meal, lovingly made by his wife from last night’s dinner leftovers. On completion, the customer, which he had to find by making calls and sending emails each night after work, will pay him $200.00 for a day’s work. He will set aside 30% for income tax; 11% for business taxes, and 20% to keep his business operating. He and his family will attempt to live and build a secure future on the remaining $78.00. He worries about how long he can keep up this pace. Last month’s dental bill for the kids wiped out their savings. Regular dental checkups for himself had to be shelved in favour of keeping up with his workers compensation insurance payments.
He has been called the backbone of America.
Sadly, this hypothetical taxpayer’s back only lasted into his forties. He called up the government-run workers compensation department for help when doctors said he could not return to his job. The bureaucracy seized the opportunity to kick him when he was down. To them, with every denial and penny-pinching move they were saving the government money while simultaneously justifying their own continued employment within the bureaucracy. They do not acknowledge who pays the government they work for. ‘Claimants are the enemy. We are not accountable to the taxpaying general public.’
These bureaucrats had the audacity to question HIS integrity.
They are oblivious to the hypocrisy which is all around them. They even went so far as to accuse him of being a scammer before finally sending $680.00 each month.
I am so sick of computers and everywhere they take us.
Being a writer means being married to your computer. Things are made worse if you are a published author because you also have long term commitments to social media and publishing sites. My almost one-year-old Dell is an evil wife. She has melted down twice in the short time we have been together; a RED FLAG if ever there was one. So why continue to put up with the daily torment of weak WiFi, boggy performance due to updates and background processes, and the general stupidity of the online world when there is little or no money in it?
I can do other things.
The real question is: What other things can I do which don’t involve computers? I could reinvent myself once again as a post modernist painter. I might use my initials to create a new artist identity: Ethan Alfonso? It has an artsy ring to it. I could add a hook as well: All Alfonso’s are painted in the nude. Post modernist erotic portraits of lonely housewives and divorcées, painted by a still pretty hot naked guy, should get me laid more than writers do. The fee for such commissioned portraits would certainly exceed what I make as a writer; perhaps several times over. For a tiny initial investment—far less than book publishing—I could whip off a bunch of samples to lean against the walls of my apartment for prospective clients to peruse; perhaps over wine, if they are hot. I could sell some works beach-side while working on my tan. Once summer ends here, I can move into a spacious van and travel to various beach communities down South, chasing the warmth of the sun, and making Canadian winters something I don’t do anymore.
What’s the worst that could happen?
It’s possible I might be killed by a jealous husband, but this has always been my preferred check-out plan anyway.
Sounds like a worthwhile endeavour to me.
Where is that art supply store?
I’d Google it, but this hunk of junk Dell—soon to be ex wife—sucks harder than the vacuum of space during a hull breach on the Enterprise.
As if the mother Zucker wasn’t bad enough with obvious societal conditioning techniques built into his flakebook algorithm, now twitter is showing its hand. They too have had their user privacy issues, but twitter was always a place where you didn’t feel as controlled and manipulated. You could reach out to people the world over, and if you added them to a list, you could see everything they posted. If they were not English speaking, you could click the translate button to see what was on the minds of people in Europe, Asia, the Middle East. . . to gain a more honest global perspective than what we are offered in American media.
That ended today!
Twitter has been ramming the “New Twitter” down our throats for a while, but we had the option to revert to “Legacy Twitter” which many users did. It wasn’t an option today, and the Translate Tweet function was gone in addition to some other user niceties.
‘We can’t have American minds being contaminated by other countries.’
They are closing up the box with us in it.
This final straw will hasten my departure from anti-social media. They just keep taking away all that was good about these platforms and replacing them with more ads and user data collection. I don’t need to stick around to watch the death of social media, I’m just glad to see it go.
Most days I root for humanity . . . some days I root for space rocks.
If you enjoy reading about patriarchy and the puppet masters, you are in the right place.
In my storied online “career” (?), I was a good, not so little, author who played nice in the early years. I “friended” and/or followed approximately 10,000 people, sites, and pages because that was what we were told was necessary to promote our books and build a platform to launch us. However, as I delved deeper into the publishing world, I found out it was all a sham to keep us busy, and, most importantly of all, to keep us blowing money. Now, after five years and spending months cleaning out my social media accounts, I have about 300 interesting “friends” and follow about 300 others.
Some of the people I axed were butt-hurt.
If they were true supporters, they were given my reasons, but most were people who never engaged in all the years I kept them around. This idea of “friending” or “following” just to have impressive numbers is laughable, and anything but social.
My new antisocial media program is simple.
If I am ever to make enough time to write seriously again, social media has to go—except twitter—I love my twitter in the mornings over coffee, and I can “misbehave” there. I have a new ‘boobies and books’ theme I am thoroughly enjoying. Do I care some will be offended? F-ck no. Do I care about the imagined publisher or agent passing on me because I don’t conform? Hells no. It’s just bullshit “they” feed newbies. The right agent or publisher will get me, or I will self-publish again, but in a much smaller way.
So, you want to take a stand; be a voice of reason; change things. . .
Years ago, I too once thought change was an achievable goal if I reached out to humanity through social media. Now, I mostly share funny or inspirational memes on facebook as well as pretty photos on twitter in an effort to offer triage－a happy place－for the shell-shocked social media veterans limping back from the front lines carrying their injured souls; who arrive in desperate need of some R&R.
The primary objective of social media is to identify and break the spirited in a war of the mind.
So many of my author “friends” have “thrown their hat in the ring” on one or all of the most hotly contested issues facing America, or, to a lesser extent, the UK. When they put their rational viewpoints out there, they will inevitably encounter the opposition who do not give a rat’s ass about reason. It’s not why they lurk. This is their job, and one day we might just find out there is automation behind it all. This is purely speculation on my part, but what follows is not.
Pick your battles.
If you feel you must speak up on an issue, by all means do so, but don’t do it daily. Schedule one day each week to visit the political or societal hellhole of your choosing. Your voice will be heard. You will be happier. Your followers will be far less likely to mute you.
Do not attempt to wage war on multiple fronts.
Today, it would be so easy for me to weigh-in on all the areas I’m passionate about, but I rarely do. The war on women; government corruption; church influencing state; injustice in the legal system; how I was lied to about living at the dawning of the age of Aquarius. . . It’s all bullshit that has been with humanity for, what we told is, our entire recorded history by the patriarchy which has been running the show for 5000 years, give or take.
The world is not unravelling, YOU ARE, and social media kingpins are behind it.
Thank the likes of Mark Zuckerberg, who facebook co-founder Chris Hughes recently slammed in the New York Times:
“Mark alone can decide how to configure Facebook’s algorithms to determine what people see in their News Feeds, what privacy settings they can use and even which messages get delivered. He sets the rules for how to distinguish violent and incendiary speech from the merely offensive, and he can choose to shut down a competitor by acquiring, blocking or copying it.”
If that isn’t bad enough, he went on to mention:
“… how the News Feed algorithm could change our culture, influence elections and empower nationalist leaders.”
But wait, he had more to say:
“Just last month, Facebook seemingly tried to bury news that it had stored tens of millions of user passwords in plain text format, which thousands of Facebook employees could see.”
“The most problematic aspect of Facebook’s power is Mark’s unilateral control over speech. There is no precedent for his ability to monitor, organize and even censor the conversations of two billion people. Facebook engineers write algorithms that select which users’ comments or experiences end up displayed in the News Feeds of friends and family. These rules are proprietary and so complex that many Facebook employees themselves don’t understand them. In 2014, the rules favored curiosity-inducing “clickbait” headlines. In 2016, they enabled the spread of fringe political views and fake news, which made it easier for Russian actors to manipulate the American electorate. In January 2018, Mark announced that the algorithms would favor non-news content shared by friends and news from “trustworthy” sources, which his engineers interpreted — to the confusion of many — as a boost for anything in the category of “politics, crime, tragedy.”
An investigation by the Associated Press revealed the platform automatically generates videos and pages which elevate extremist groups.
And here is my personal favorite:
“Mark Zuckerberg cannot fix Facebook, but our government can.”
I have my doubts.
Use high-altitude photo reconnaissance to see the big picture.
In other words, take a step back to see the play. So . . . the real war waging is monopoly vs. government. As things currently sit, monopoly can decide what government they can “work with”. This is not good.
“Live to fight another day.” －a better way.
What if every intelligent, experienced, and knowledgeable person on social media just posted puppies, kittens, babies, rainbows, daffodils, and unicorns sprinkled with fairy dust instead of being incensed by, and debating with, morons? If your page(s) is always negative, create a new one where you can be you and post whatever brings you joy and peace. This will force you to balance your time spent on social media to offset the negativity.
This is how to beat them at their games.
Gather your real verified people; create an email group chat to move your agenda forward without being distracted by the lurkers. Write letters collectively as a group and send them to the appropriate level of government demanding action and a reply.
If you want to keep democracy, you must use the process.
Arguing about issues online only serves the monopolists.
How to write the ultimate GO F-CK YOURSELF email to a cowardly ex who denies you closure by going into hiding.
Yeah, I wrote an email like this, and I would do it again if ever I am stupid enough to fall for another selfish narcissistic sociopath who refuses to make a call to end things properly.
Why do this?
It is simple really, you need to get the rage out, and this is infinitely better than burning their stuff in the backyard. The neighbors look at you even more weirdly than normal when you do such things. More importantly, this allows you to process their evil deeds, and the pain you are feeling through carefully chosen words when a long relationship ends horribly. In other words, this is one method of speeding up the recovery process when you have had enough of their bullshit. IT IS ALL ABOUT YOU and your wellbeing. Don’t be polite; they weren’t, and they will not suddenly start appreciating you if you take the high road now. It is time to sink to their level to get through to them. THEY BROUGHT THIS ON THEMSELVES. At times like this, it is not narcissism—it is a survival mechanism.
Essentially, we are aiming to hook them, call them out, and then crush them like the cockroaches they revealed themselves to be.
To use this article as a template, ideally (and sadly) you would need to have experienced lies, deception, and betrayal which led to you ending a relationship. This is not about revenge. No, this goes deeper. This is about retribution which factors sin into its meaning.
The first line needs to grab their attention, and spark their curiosity so they will continue reading.
Don’t scare them off with a nasty first line; appeal to their humanity in case they have any. Aim to create guilt and remorse whether they are capable of feeling those or not. Go with something like:
Hey, remember me? The person you won’t talk to who. . .
You then add a reasonable number of important things you did for them—the more life-altering the better.
In the next section, you want to point out why you felt compelled to write to them.
You want to subtly shift from continuing to pile on the guilt to pointing out how their spinelessness forced you to take this action.
I really thought you would step up and talk to me at least one final time. But no, as with every decision you make, you chose poorly once again. You probably will never tell me the whole truth to help me with closure, and even if you did, I would have a hard time believing any of what you might say.
This mild slap in the face will show them how low your opinion of them has become.
Next, remind them how you had noticed their suspicious behavior for some time, and then shift to the possible conclusions you have reached as a result of their lack of communication.
You can get nasty here. It’s character assassination time. (Woohoo!) You could begin with questions:
Are you on drugs? Are you having a mid-life crisis of epic proportions? Did you fail to take your meds? Are you attempting to sleep your way into money and security rather than working for it? Were you dropped on your head as a baby? etc.
Personally, I prefer statements. You could begin with:
Now that I know the depths of your depravity and duplicity, I think the following are probable:
Your list can be “on the money” or you can take “creative liberties”. You get the idea. Have some fun with it, while making it clear what a loathsome piece of crap you now see them as. Also indicate how you will continue to believe all of these possible truths until such time as they explain their actions.
Add an image of how you now view them for a more dramatic effect.
You could (or perhaps should) go straight to a porn site for an impactful and distasteful image which exemplifies your view of them. Other possibilities might include images of various STDs from a medical book. I went with a less vulgar illustration myself, but it’s your call.
If they have made it this far, it is time to write your heart out.
Admit you weren’t perfect while driving the stakes in. Take a little responsibility while showing how minor your character flaws are when compared with theirs.
I always wanted what is best for you, and it was out of love and caring that. . .
Show how their behavior has left you pitying them. This, of course, presumes you truly know their history or pathology and were not lied to about everything.
It’s sad—so sad—you are incapable of true love and gratitude. I blame. . .
Don’t be afraid to make unfavorable comparisons with your previous exes or especially people you know they dislike.
My other exes had some class and most knew at least a little of what is appropriate decent behavior. You are a total hypocrite. You slander [Insert name here.] while behaving even worse.
Dive into decency, morality, scruples, ethics. . . whatever you can sink your teeth into which best fits their behavior.
A soft warm up to your closing statements is next.
You could use a bulleted list.
I am sad for me for being duped.
If there are children involved, you could add:
I am sad for [Child’s name.] because he/she will most likely be raised by the likes of you two.
I am sad for your new significant other if you manage to get your claws into their heart, or on the keys to their house and vehicles, or worst of all, access to their bank accounts, insurance policies, and will.
And yes, I am sad for you as well, because despite all my efforts to repair the damage done to you, your ability or willingness to retain anything new is abysmal. You will continue on YOUR CHOSEN PATH, unconsciously following your base programming, and this trail will not lead to happiness. On the upside, I have finally figured out my fatal flaw. No one can fix you. Only you can do that, once you trade in self-obsession for self-awareness.
It’s important you leave them to the end of the list so it ties in with the big finish.
Enough of the body blows, it’s time to close with a throat punch because punching the heartless in the chest is pointless.
Here’s an idea for you:
At the end of most of my relationships, I would usually say farewell or good luck in your future. It would be disingenuous of me to say either of these to you because I know Karma is going to tear you a new one over what you have done. YOU ARE SO F-CKED!
I will just say goodbye.
Did it work?
In my case it did. I got most of the poison out. She confirmed the magnitude of her deception and offered up a lame apology. Regardless, it was enough for me to shed any residual affection and desire . . . allowing me to quickly move on to healthier greener pastures.
I can’t wait to see the comments on this post. I expect the miscreants to be outraged, and every person who has dealt with betrayal to love it. We will see.