Archive for the ‘Censorship’ Category

I told you so.

I fucking told you so!  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.  Told you so.

What’s the use in knowing what’s about to happen when no one will listen to you?  I don’t think this quite qualifies as a Cassandra complex but it’s the only thing I can relate to it.

Back in August, I knew what was happening to Myspace and I tried to tell people about the monumental shit sandwich that it would become by the end of the year.  Some listened.  Fewer agreed.  More blew it off as childish, indulgent, bitching.  A hand full of folks ridiculed anyone that spoke out.

Below is a repost of a few blog entries I made in August.  This is my “I told you so!” post.  This is dedicated to the few bloggers out there that tried to warn the ridiculing masses of the coming shitstorm known as New Myspace.

You’re All A Bunch Of Frogs!

Original post date August 10, 2010

I’m sure you’ve heard the old blurble about boiling a frog.  You put a frog in a pot of water and you slowly heat the water up to the boiling point.  The frog dies because the it doesn’t notice the slow increase in water temperature, so it never says “Fuck this shit!” and jumps out of the pot.

I don’t know if this really works, because I don’t do cruel shit to animals.  Besides I love frogs.

Well, for quite some time, our culture, our governments, our name brands, our pop stars, our employers, our peers, and our Myspace have all been turning up the heat on our individuality pots.

Sure, we’re told to be individuals and to express ourselves…through mass consumerism…through our choice of TV channels…through our willingness to suck down every last ounce of crap they sell to us.

But don’t you dare expect individuality for free!  Hell no!  Individuality, like freedom, is not yours for the taking.  It must be bought and worked for.  It must be begged away from the powers that be at the price of your bloody, overworked, fingers and your undying subservience to their big fucking machine.

Now Myspace wants you to quit having opinions that last longer than 140 characters.  Now Myspace want your profile (your personal expression of yourself) to match perfectly in with all the other conformist dittohead profiles over at Facebook.  Myspace doesn’t want you to have an intelligent conversation or the exchange of any ideas other than “LOL, I made a poopy” and “OMG, I just bought some new shoes, LOL!”

It’s been a slow process, but the heat has been rising for quite some time.

I’ve seen comments on blogs saying “Change is part of life.  I think we can learn to deal with these new changes. I don’t want to leave this place because everyone I like is here.  We should all just adapt to this.  Things will get better.  You’ll see.”

Yeah, you just keep fuckin’ that chicken and see where it gets you.  Enjoy those table scraps.  Enjoy those tiny crumbs of individuality that are allowed to you by the millionaire investors that sell adspace on this site.

Maybe when you’re profile looks like every other fucking profile on the internet, they’ll be nice and let you pick out a color or two.  Maybe they’ll let you keep your screen name for a year or so before you become “User # 102399843”.

Well, I’m here, with the irreverent and swaggering ghost of Jim Morrison to tell you “You’re all a bunch of fucking frogs!  Now what are you gonna do about it?!”

Are you gonna grovel like some conformist slave or are you gonna take charge of your own free will?  Are you gonna try to shut up all the other slaves so as to not upset the master?  Are you going to shred your personal Declaration Of Independence before it even gets a chance to be written?

It’s not just Myspace.  It’s our entire culture.  If you can’t rebel against the fascist actions of a social network, how the hell do you ever expect to fight for the freedom you’re supposed to have in real life?

Watch and learn folks.  This microcosm shows us more about people’s real personalities than we could have ever thought would be possible.

 

 

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Polishing A Turd

Original post date August 11, 2010

This is what your future looks like
http://www.myspace.com/upgrade-profile

Throughout all of the blog “glitches” and emails to Myspace corporate, we still haven’t seen any feedback concerning the upcoming forced profile change.

There’s a petition going around to try to keep us old-schoolers from being forced into this Facebook style format.
http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/keepmyspaceprofiles/

I don’t think Myspace corporate is going to change course on this though.  This is all part of the ongoing emulation of Facebook.  This is part of Myspace’s inability to come up with an original moneymaking, user drawing, idea.

For several years, Myspace has been given the reputation of being the backwoods, racist, ghetto of the internet.  Just ask any intarwebz hipster.  They’ll tell you exactly that.

I think Myspace is desperately trying to find a way to reinvent itself and shake off the ghetto stigma that’s been attached to it.  The problem is, this can’t be fixed through Facebook imitation.  This problem is embedded in the culture of Myspace.

This problem comes from simply deleting profiles of trolls, stalkers, and reoccurring assholes instead of banning their IP’s from the entire website.  This problem comes from allowing dipshits to keep coming back after they have terrorized a large crossection of Myspace’s most loyal users.

This comes from putting statistical membership numbers above user enjoyment as a means of showing your worth to future investors.
This comes from embracing the fundamentals of total cluelessness that cloud the heads of upper-management teams worldwide.  Don’t fix the problem, pad the numbers instead.  Don’t believe in yourself, play the system for one more fiscal quarter.  Don’t fix the leaking ship, secure your golden parachute first.

The Facebookinization of Myspace will not reinvigorate new user numbers.  It won’t put Myspace in the What’s Hot category.  No one likes a poser.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is I don’t see Myspace backing off of the forced profile change.  They’re trying to change the culture of Myspace through appearances.  In their minds, if all of Myspace looks like Facebook, then they’ll be able to get Facebooks users to come back to Myspace.

They’re doing what my father-in-law refers to as “Polishing A Turd”.  That’s where someone takes a totally crappy car that’s on it’s last legs, and details and waxes it until it shines brilliantly in order to sell it to some unsuspecting schmuck.

Your “Ghetto” profile is hampering the turd polishing process.  Enjoy it while you have it.

* Just a side not here:  Isn’t it funny how it took an act of congress to dig information out of Myspace about these “blog glitches” that have now been “fixed”, yet they somehow find the time to send out those “What’s new to Myspace” mass emails every time they get one step closer to Facebook?  Kinda shows you where their true priorities are.

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Battered Blogger Syndrome

Original post date August 11, 2010

FOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL STAGES OF
THE BATTERED WOMAN SYNDROME
DENIAL- The woman refuses to admit–even to herself–that she has been beaten or that there is a “problem” in her marriage. She may call each incident an “accident”. She offers excuses for her husband’s violence and each time firmly believes it will never happen again.

GUILT- She now acknowledges there is a problem, but considers herself responsible for it. She “deserves” to be beaten, she feels, because she has defects in her character and is not living up to her husband’s expectations.

ENLIGHTENMENT- The woman no longer assumes responsibility for her husband’s abusive treatment, recognizing that no one “deserves” to be beaten. She is still committed to her marriage, though, and stays with her husband, hoping they can work things out.

RESPONSIBILITY– Accepting the fact that her husband will not, or can not, stop his violent behavior, the battered woman decides she will no longer submit to it and starts a new life.

Something is missing from this table.  Something I call The Backlash.

The Backlash consists of:  The day after you pull an abusive husband off of his wife, she calls you up and blames you for trying to keep her from being beaten to a pulp.

AKA “Good riddance to the dissenters!”

How quickly we forget the reality of three days ago.  How quickly we tell ourselves it won’t happen again.

Yeah, I’m still bitching.  Ask anyone I’ve worked with in the past.  I do a lot of bitching before I burn a bridge.

For all you people who left Myspace.  For all you people who followed through on your grumblings.  You are now to blame for this.  Don’t ask me how, but you are.

And don’t you ever say anything bad about Myspace anymore.  He’s a good man.  He only gets “glitchy” when I deserve it!

* Stay tuned as I continue to irreverantly crash this ship into even more rocks.  I spent two years building this blogging warship.  I deserve to have some fun destroying it.  Let the drunken viking tirades roll!

Original post date June 7, 2009

Last week, our family went out and celebrated my mother-in-law’s birthday. First we all went to the movie theater and saw the new Star Trek movie. Actually, I should say we saw 35 minutes of commercials (yes I timed it), then we saw some previews, and then we were allowed to watch the new Star Trek movie. By the time the movie finally started, I had to go pee. Normally this would have totally pissed me off (pardon the pun), but I let it slide since Star Trek kicked so much ass.

Anyway, once we got done seeing the movie, we went out to eat. I’m not going to single out exactly what restaurant we went to, but I will tell you it’s country and western themed and they give you a bucket of peanuts when you are seated. The food was good, the waitress was decent, and we had a pretty good time. Of course, being a veteran of the food industry, I noticed all the little problems that would be on any dining room checklist. I’m still trying to break myself of this habit, but years of training never seem to go away. I’ll spare you the boring list of what was wrong with their dining room.

One thing I noticed while we were dining, was how flustered and exhausted some of the servers were. I could tell from their behavior and emotions that most of them were probably working doubles that day. Some of them looked very unhappy about it too. I got the feeling that either the restaurant was understaffed, or the tips weren’t flowing very well that night. Either way, the servers weren’t too happy to be there.

Now the thing that tops this all off is the uniform that these people were wearing. Anyone who’s read my blogs in the past knows how I feel about uniforms. So I’ll spare everyone my normal conformity/fascism tirade. The uniforms basically weren’t that bad. They consisted of jeans and a black T-shirt. They looked fairly inexpensive and comfortable in my opinion.

You may wonder, “So what’s the big deal with the uniforms?” Well, the back of the T-shirts had “I love my job!” printed on them in bright, big, letters. Actually they used a heart symbol instead of the word “Love”, but you get the point.

I almost busted out laughing when I saw what their shirts said. Here was a dining room full of people who clearly didn’t want to be at work, who were pissed about God knows what, and they were being forced to wear these shirts. It was awful and hilarious at the same time.

Of course I immediately started obsessing on how a company could really expect to force it’s workers to wear a uniform like this and honestly expect any of their customers to take it seriously. I rolled this one around in my head for a couple of hours, but I still couldn’t make any sense out of it. I’m sure those servers where happy to have a job. I just didn’t get the feeling that they liked their jobs, much less loved them.

Some of the crap that corporate America tries to pull on us just amazes me. Did they honestly expect us to believe these people were declaring their love for their job out of choice? Did they really think everyone would automatically think that this company was awesome once we saw this uniform? Or where they thinking that the subliminal message would seep into most people’s minds and make them think that this company treats their workers well? How could they possibly think this uniform wouldn’t insult the intelligence of every customer who saw it?

I guess if I ever go back to that restaurant, I’ll have to ask someone how they REALLY feel about their job. I doubt I’ll get an honest answer, but it might brighten someone’s day to know I don’t believe the propaganda they’re being forced to endorse. Of course, if I know corporations as well as I think I do, they’ll have a completely different uniform by the time I manage to get back to that restaurant. There’s no telling what the T-shirts will say by then.

I hate dress codes.  I’ve never known any good to come from a dress code.  I’ve worked at many jobs that changed dress codes on a whim, several times a year, and never offered any justification for their actions.  I’ve worked with many people who had to quit thier jobs because they couldn’t afford to buy new clothes every time the dress code was changed.  I’ve worked at places where the color of your socks could get you fired.  Are socks really that damned important?!

Dress codes are total BS and anyone who tells you otherwise, is either stupid, evil, or some snide combination of both.  How many bankers with smiling, professional, faces do we have reaming our country at the moment?  They’ve got the most sophisticated and uncomfortable dress code on earth.  Does that mean we can trust them?

I personally don’t trust people who wear suits and have perfect white smiles.  Why?  Because I’ve learned that most people who put physical appearance over any other quality in life cannot be trusted.  Because they are usually shallow, selfcentered, judgmental people who will screw anyone over in order to get what they want.  Don’t believe me?  Join a country club and try to find a REAL friend.

As you can guess, I’ve been stewing over dress codes for a couple days now.  The recent run-in with a teacher over my son’s hair brought these feelings back to the surface of my psyche.  So instead of stewing and feeling helpless in my rage against society’s enforced conformities, I decided to make some propaganda of my own that could be used to fight back.

Below are some pic-ros that I made to express my anger with dress codes.  Feel free to spam the net with them.  I don’t know how effective they are, but they might get people’s attention.  Enjoy!

P.S. – If the last image is missing, it’s because TinyPic doesn’t like me posting pictures that point out what losers KKK members are.  They evidently don’t like me using them as posterchildren for our country’s current fascist obsession with stealing our children’s individuality through enforced uniform standards.  The pic was deleted earlier but I uploaded it again. It’s worth a try. We’ll see how long it lasts.

Update:  I got banned by tinypic over these pics and cafepress censored them and refuses to respond to my query as to why they censored them.