Own it all and be happy

It’s not often I evangelise a platform, in fact it’s very rare. We’re living in a time where your content is owned by anyone but you. The power over whether it’s even available lies not with you but some tech bros who might well decide you’re “problematic” and remove your content, your name or anything really. For me this is where Lbry comes in. Decentralised and built on the blockchain using P2P networks as long as your content exists SOMEWHERE then it exists for everyone and of course your meta data is entered to the blockchain meaning nobody can simply pull the plug on you.

It’s not a “new youtube” or “new Twitter” or whatever but it is a way of ensuring only you control your content and what happens with it and I find that really exciting. Head to Lbry.com or download the app and give it a whirl. You can share your content, decide whether it’s free or paid (using LBC) and simply get it out there by whatever means possible knowing you can’t have the rug pulled from under you quite so easily.

This post was created directly within the app and shared from there. Nice!

Here endeth today’s sermon.

Mission creep. The Woken are on a push.

It’s really quite impressive isn’t it, that what appears to be a very small percentage of society are causing all kinds of ructions in demand of rights everyone’s a little confused about. But of course, it isn’t about that small slice of our people, not at all. We’re getting some pretty serious mission creep. Trans people are just what’s being co-opted to glom some moral authority, some sense of righteousness. And it’s a damn shame.

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So, I’ve been thinking…

Lately I’ve read quite a lot about censorship. In one sense I believe every platform should be free to choose what it should allow but in another I’m very unsettled by this growing culture of cancellation where people will see perfectly legal material which appears to be within the TOS of a platform being removed due out outrage culture and pressure on the site and advertisers. This doesn’t sit terribly well with me. It’s not about platforms for extreme voices, we’re seeing platforms removing even moderate voices simply because they don’t toe the line according to practitioners of cancel culture. Surely there must be a solution? So, in my own small way, I think it’s time I sort of provided one.

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About the “Trans thing”

Lately I’ve been a bit more, shall we say, pro-active and vocal on Twitter on a certain topic. I’ve been asked why I’m so fascinated with Trans people, usually as a dig from activists throwing something at me in the hope it will stick. Thing is, and I mean this with the greatest of respect, I don’t often tweet about trans people as a group because I’m just not that invested. As individuals I can be interested but overall, it’s just something going on in the world that’s always gone on in the world.

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Virtue signalling and why I am a monster.

Despite the obviously catastrophic levels of boomerism I frequently display I’m actually Gen X. As a 47 year old man I was bumbling along minding my own business when I suddenly found out that I am the enemy and “literally Hitler”. As you can imagine, this came of something of a surprise even to me given my choice in career has not exactly enamoured me with the more “right on” sections of society.

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The Internet. A love letter to a ghost.

It seems nowadays we log in to maybe two or three URL’s each day. We might have some sites we visit but predominately we tend to congregate around social media, the life sucking polarisation machines which have replaced one of our greatest achievements.
I bought my first PC in the late 90’s from a friend. It was a desktop manufactured by Tiny. I don’t remember too much about it outside of that beyond the fact it had a whopping 500MB hard drive. That hearing aid beige box of wonders would change my life dramatically the minute I plugged a phone cable into its thrusting 33.3k modem.
After signing up with an ISP to whom I would pay a monthly bill plus call charges of 1.5p per minute off peak and 3p per minute peak I clicked the dial in button. This was exciting! After listening to some arcane noises I clicked on the icon for Netscape Navigator.

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They do not care about us.

We often look at government apathy towards us in abstract terms, it’s very hard for us to truly quantify things unless we can make them somehow personal. Look at the holocaust, 6 million people is a mind boggling number but distil that down to the story of Anne Frank and you put a face on things. I’m not comparing what I’m about to write to the holocaust, not even slightly, but you get the picture. Let me tell you a story.

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Experts. So many experts.

It might come as a surprise to many of you to hear that I find many things in life annoying. The fact that, despite my best efforts, the lawn refuses to die so I still have to mow it. The fact that where I live everyone is apparently a builder. Those flies that pretend to be bees, they’re bloody annoying and unnerving in equal measure. Also the sight of people in a face mask winds me up for reasons I have not yet fully come to understand. What really gets my goat though are the experts. You know, social media experts.

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Yes, but is it ESSENTIAL?

“Essential”, it’s a word we seem to be using quite a lot (though not as much as unprecedented which has seen an unprecedented growth in these unprecedented times). Often it’s used incorrectly by whining arseholes on the Internet who can’t quite grasp what the government have been advising so they run it through their own internal filter to decide exactly what is essential.

Today I was asked if my journey would be essential. Did I really, REALLY, need to go out and do some filming. Hardly key work is it? Hardly an NHS hero, stay home. Stay home you dreadful disease spreading monster. Thing is though, it is essential.

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Do you know the worst thing about Covid 19?

Covid 19. It’s not the draconian lock down procedures, it’s not the fact the police are getting decidedly close to wearing knee high, shiny boots. It’s not the queues, it’s not the death, it’s not even my looming financial meltdown. No, it’s the fact everyone’s treating this like some kind of hyper-extended bank holiday weekend and I hate them for it.

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