There is a death in the family...

I have a friend in the hospital, who had been rushed to the ICU, and I had severe anxiety over, that he might not make it. Today it looks like he does, but he will have to stay in the hospital for weeks, if not months.

Since he is the last acceptable tie to my home country, it would be like losing a cherished family member.

It was him, who, with his insider knowledge of the area I grew up in, made me sure of that what I thought was bad, really was bad. He confirmed certain things that I feared I just had misunderstood, did happen in a form that would warrant my experience. It was a painful reconnection, but finally I was not a liar and a histrionic anymore, things -were- actually this bad.

I will not mention any of it in order to protect him. But yeah, I felt like the biggest rock off my shoulder. No, I did not lie to myself or others, there were very good reasons I felt like shit and had to emigrate. It wasn't just teenage hysterics. And those structures would have made my life impossible, so, yes, I -had- to go.

What he doesn't know is that on top of it my family life was absolutely atrocious too. Which also would bring a lot of people to the yard with pitchforks pointing at me, because I as a child lied for a couple of weeks that my parents had glorious jobs. Then all the other shit also was just of my making, right? Also, I have a sister, and she might just say, it wasn't bad at all, because I have a hunch she fitted in that environment much better than I. I had a fight with someone, whether my stepdad (her biological dad) did diddle her too, but I am adamantly convinced he did not diddle his own flesh. Also, everyone with a little emotional intelligence would know, that two siblings can have a total different honest experience in the same nuclear family. But I don't think this is an argument I would ever be able to get through to anyone with in my family, because I always was the odd one out. Also, compared to others, who bore the offspring to their fathers, I was left a virgin, and not really much happened. That I have to say in fairness.

So, yeah, I was a strange one, and one day my mother took me to the doctor, because there was "something strange going on" in her words. I know now what is wrong, and the doc might have found it, but you can't really blame him for not finding it, and therefore also not my mother for not dealing with it, she had no idea, and she also had no chance of ever getting a clue. The next sentences is especially pointed at all the idiots who think I blame my mother for bad parenting in this respect. Read on, ignorants:

I was asked by the doc to draw a family picture.

So, in kindergarden I was regarded as a good artist. Then came a serious talent in, and the last thing that kept me from falling into the abyss of absolute disregard and being lower ranks with no redeeming aspects, disappeared. Also, some stupid fuck of a kindergarden teacher told me my drawings were lifeless and not worth shit. If I would just only draw like everybody else. I copied one of those ballon-with-stick men, and I was praised.

So, sitting at the docs I did not know what to do. Also, I sensed something really, really bad would happen, if I did not draw it "correctly" Any form of offness would result in cataclysmic disaster, so I did what I did in kindergarden, I drew a family picture the way I thought other children my age would do it, and the doc said, I was all good. So, no blame on anyone here.

Later in puberty I found out, what the cataclysmic horror would entail, and the danger I was in: My aunt has a condition that requires medication. I don't know how I found out, but I knew what it was, and one day, when we were running around outside, she said, she had to go home this instant, but she would not tell why. My instinct was correct, she had forgotten her medication, and not taking it in time could result in her being in physical danger, this much I knew of this illness. I kept on asking and she would not tell. I know now, that this illness was a major source of shame in her family, and it would align really great with my step dad always telling me to never zip up my jacket in full, "because that would make me look handicapped". I could not afford to become more faulty, because it would have left me living in the shadows, until I would have found a way to off myself. I already was worth less than dog shit.

Thanks to my sometimes absolute acute spider senses I managed to avoid this fate by drawing a fake drawing at the doctor's office, before I even hit puberty.

If there is anyone still in doubt I am right for not thinking it was all roses and flowers, also COUNTING IN, WE WERE IN THE STICKS IN THE LATE 70's, they shall really forever hold their fucking mouth, and probably just die in a fire. Also, I don't think I owe my parents ANYTHING, except being fair, and only post the truth. I know, times change, but some of the shit I was through also wasn't OK in fucking Afghanistan. In fact, because of this, and because I of course was not the only one (which I got told ever so often, if I was complaining and wanting a fair shake) I knew right away, that the unholy "Not Without My Daughter" book was about a dysfunctional family, who also was Iranian, and not some conceited American-Iranian culture conflict. That stepmother was the problem, also the political climate in Iran, that gave a lot of power to stupid sexist and racist clerics. But in fact, if that family weren't complete assholes, Mahtob and Betty would have three spectacular weeks gaining unique insights in another country in Iran, and would have thanked their God and Saviours for their freedom and dignity as women in America back then (not now, post Jan. 20th, 2025) compared to Iran. It is always an asshole family, who keeps women trapped in countries with a perverted form for Islam as the governmental underpinnings, it is not even possible, unless both the regime AND the family are onto it.

An unnamed person told me once to never divulge any problems of similar kind somewhere, where it is readable or audible in public. In the context she said it, she was right.

But clamping in about everything stole my childhood and formative years, and I would just like to know what else I have to forfeit in order to be "correct and good and acceptable" Also, if you are not like this anymore, then it also would be okay to post, because you once were like this, and I am not getting anything out of it, except scorn from others for having posted it. But what I also get is my own selfrespect for not puttering around with it, I get the freedom, that noone can forbid me to talk, and also even that I dare talk about something, where I unilateral say I feel wronged, and hoist that over the fear of getting in trouble. Call it Rumpelstiltskin, and he will go poof.

In fact, saying what is wrong has helped and it has absolutely prevented debilitating depression and that feeling of absolute worthlessness that has always be my unwanted companion, but I would also lie if I said I did not often look over the shoulder, if disaster would strike me, now, that I have "done it again". I always think, did I say too much, did I word it too strongly, but also, did I soften the edges too much, did I excuse the wrongdoers too much, did I left the ones mistreating me off the hook too much, and thereby fucking myself over. It is like either one of the parties always gets fucked over, and so it is kind of a seesaw pattern, and I am obliged to choose myself over the other party here, and I will not expect anything other from the other party.

I have a friend, who loudly tells every detail of her childhood disaster, not in a sensational way either, and her background is on her back too for "unnecessarily spilling it", but she is not giving in. I also fear for the results of this post, but you did it, and if it was cool, why have a cow over it? I should be able to say it. In fact, there is not a thing they can do, not even disown me. It would be blood money anyway, just the way it felt like blood money, when my mother did fork out for some alternative doctor to help with my allergies. Lady, you knew exactly what the problem was. But still props for you for not letting me totally mire in histaminic overload, and it might have helped, had I had a better home life. You tried to fix a problem, so you did not have to fix the most firecly burning platform. I owe them about 2000 Euro. I'll write in my will, that their estate should get 2000 Euro, if they can find it, so in my death I will have paid for my soul.

I can live with it being written on the never forgetting Internet, because if I had done any of it, I would not be the person I would like to be, if I had a problem with my victims writing it somewhere, or saying it in public. I would have to be saying to myself, that I was not the best of mothers, and that I do feel shame. And if I am not like that anymore, then I would say, just like a dry alcoholic, yeah those were the bad times, I am beyond this now.

So, a sober account shall be acceptable, whether of me or them.

I know my mother felt manipulated by me, because she said stuff like she would not be held hostage by guilt from me for the rest for her life. S'all cool, me neither, I should be able to deal with shit myself, and from my estranged parents groups I know there are absolute horror stories out there, and mine was not overly bad, compared to theirs, but then the only guilt (in Danish and my mother tongue the word for debt and guilt is the same) I have are those 2000 quid. It is worth my soul, my freedom and my everything.

And I really mean it, my sister could totally have had an epiphany and thought the other day, "damn, that was probably not the best things to say to her the last days I saw her." My mother could have confronted and/or divorced him, even though it was a case of "maintaining the family for my sister's sake" They could have made millions in donations to organisations for heriditary conditions. Everyone could have some thought to the tune of "Holy shit the stuff I did to her, because she was the dog shit of the community, and I would never get in trouble for it, because it was only to her, and everybody did it"

It is entirely possible, that everything is good and golden now. In fact, somehow I believe they now " have total order in the emotional quagmires, and love and respect eachother and everybody," and the only thing missing for perfection is me and my "holding a grudge".

But even then, my spider senses tell me, should I ever take up contact to any part of my past, they'd be "Okay, now we have repented and fixed ourselves, it wasn't so bad, you were a terrible child, it was the times, and now, take your place as dog shit, which we have kept open for you, should you ever return. We love you much, even if you don't really, really deserve it. We cannot explain how, but it is still all your fault, but we will also still tell you off, if you show the smallest sign of self referency"

I would still have to give up my sense of dignity, bodily autonomy and would generally have to erase myself for them, or at the very least I would have to act like it never happened. It would be back to prison for me, because they would not want to live with, that I do in fact have an actual real experience that differs from, what they need.

And I am enough of an adult to know, this is textbook behaviour in situations like this. They have got to do this, because it enables their survival, and I cannot possibly assume them choosing me over them. It is said, that yes, in parenthood and family it is so, but I do not believe in it. We all are first and foremost living things that do all they can to survive, and I cannot possibly ask this of them, if they cannot live with the direct acknowledgment. And I know in my heart, I cannot do without full acknowledgment. I don't need guilt, but I cannot survive interaction with them without full acknowledgment. It would all be acting and lying on my part, and more fear, selfundoing and loss of dignity. And there are a lot of signs that tell me, they cannot give acknowledgment.

And therefore I don't want or need anything from them, except not being in their proximity, because I need my dignity and all of that to continue to survive in this world as an adult. There never will be anything a person can do to another person, that would warrant to hand that over to the giver, not even Oskar Schindler can demand a Jewish person's dignity.

And it is sort of okay, because everyone here does what they have to do to survive mentally. Me, them, everybody. I cannot make demands that will destroy them, even though it would be morally right, and I am old enough to be without parents.

And when we're dead, the debt/guilt is settled.

All the things that came up, when I realised, the last connection to my home area could have died...


Also, today, my other friend told me, her Dad died unexpectedly yesterday morning. They were very close as I understand. May his soul be blessed in transit, and she find peace in the sorrow.

    - TBS, 25 JAN 2025, no AI

:)

After a severely craptacular few days, hitting the streets with O. was such a blessing. Love you, O., love your honesty, and your big heart. The spirits be with us :)

    - TBS, 18 JAN 2025, no AI

-.-

So, while we wait for the rerun:



We know. Also, I am Batman.

But honestly, having Elon Musk to be more stupid about his sockpuppets than me was not on my card for 2025 :P


ADDED: And so, I find this article in The Spectator, that an Adrian Dittmann actually exists. I have not read the Spectator article, because it is paywalled, but I read elsewhere, that AD is supposedly a German, and his rich family moved to Fiji with him. He also was somehow connected to the Musk Foundation in 2021.

So, after doing a lot of really atrociously stupid stuff as of late, (sorry to my friend with the Tesla stock, not referring to his ability to bring together and pay people to do cool stuff), now EM has trolled us all in ways, not even ChatGPT could have dreamt up?

Unless of course the real A. Dittmann did allow for Elon to use his Xitter account and name somewhere, because Elon did lapse and fell out of character a lot on the Dittmann Xitter account, but there is a Facebook account of an Adrian Dittmann from Fiji with photos on.
Or that female Spectator journalist is really Stephen Glass from a parallel universe, in which he was not found out.
Or, we find out some new completely crazy shit about this here.

At least, we are entertained or something.

Adrian Dittmann, maybe:

    - TBS, 05 JAN 2025, no AI

Asshole went to fucking psycho

Yes, Elon.

This fucking sack of shit praises the AfD (Alternative für Deutschland) as the only good option after Olav Scholz. Couple of hours later an Elon fan and AfD praiser drives a car into the Christmas market of Magdeburg, killing (as per this date, in the evening CET) 4 people and injuring several dozens. And no peep so far from the rancid load of TRT-mired lard on, how that was not what he wanted to see.

    - TBS, 21 DEC 2024, no AI

Red went to green

Yes, Syria.

So, four days after, and I still cannot really collect my thoughts about Syria. It is good that this dog finally was kicked out, and it is even better that it happened without, say, American troops help. This way there might be a chance for Syria not ending up as Afghanistan II. Because fuck, did I cry for Afghanistan, when the last plane left the country with the last lucky people on it, when women threw their newborns over the fence for Americans to catch, and how people hanging themselves to the plane on its way out. That thud, when the last one fell to

And I was moved by, how happy Syrians at the border looked, when they realised that the dog had his tail between his legs and ran to Mother Russia. And as a German, when I saw the pile of shoes at that absolutely concentration camp of a prison (Sednaya), I didn't even know what I was feeling, except it was -intense- When members of the Islamist group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham opened the cell doors, shouting "You are all free, you can leave freely" People using hand tools to break through the concrete for secret entries. That child, that probably was born in that prison. People running to the hospitals, looking for their relatives from the prison. I cannot even begin to imagine how it must have felt to be a Syrian these days.

But I feared so much, it is going to be another turboIslamocratic country, in which women cannot even fucking speak on the streets. The al-Sham is an Islamic group.

But fuck me, I hear that leader Abu Mohammed al-Jolani speaking so calmly to a group of people, like a good Baba, and not shouting or bigly proclaiming victory. He says, no one has anything to fear. And, unbelievably, there are women not in hijjab still.

I hope so much for Syria. It could be the biggest show since the Berlin Wall 1989 coming down and the cessation of the Cold War. The hope was utterly palpable in the air and the World felt more open. Good things could happen. Abu Mohammed al-Jolani claims he did a 180 in terms of Islamism, may that be true, and Godspeed to him and Mohammed al-Bashi.

Please let us have one Muslim country, where a revolution goes well.

    - TBS, 11 DEC 2024, no AI

Blue went to red...

Det kunne have være så godt
hvis landet var forblevet blåt.

Because Dems were FAFO'ing around like a drunk Bambi on ice, the Orange won, as we all know.

And it will probably be good for the organisation I work for. My friend's stock rose and she made a metric fucktonnage of money. The dollar is at a high, and everything just totally shines and glitters right now.

And for a person with at least somewhat of a conscience like me this is so weird. It is like the World suddenly says, assholery not only pays off short term, it is good and noble.

Like, when those who work on containing the bad, the egomaniacs, the psychopaths, the narcissists, the organisations and companies that pollute, actively renounce unions and use illegal practices, should just pack it in, because the world goes shittier, when they keep on trying.

Do keep on murdering babies, have pregnant women die due to abortion bans, rape people, racketeer and swindle, don't filter wastewaters, go frag and drill, baby, drill, keep religious fanatics in power and make the last CO² eating tree into toilet paper, we're at measly 430 ppm, and the human brain can tolerate up to 650-700, keep on throwing PFAS everywhere and support TEMU and Mondelez, it is not just good, it is supposed to be like this, you're doing it right, it's the Noble Path.

It surely feels like it now more than ever.

I fully expect increases in bad behaviour, also here in DK, because the fabric of the times now encourages asshole behaviour in daily life almost all over the Western World. And because things seem to go well for assholes these days, asshole behaviour will be justified. I mean, the dollar became stronger, stock is rising, and my employer will probably increase activity even more, so good people can stick their humane ideas of fairness and compassion up their arse, as far as I can see these days.

And if Zelenskyy gives Krim and half the Ukraine away, and the active war stops, if Kim Jong-un goes buddybuddy with Trump and stops dropping missiles just short of Japan, you will not be able to exist as a person who sometimes also thinks of the next person. That what saved the world in the couple of thousand years before will be forced away, empathy will be a deeply undesireable ability, because empathy did not stop the war and the nuclear weapons manufacturing, assholes did by fraternising. So, stop whining, spread your legs, lube your behind, because you will take it up the ass, if you're not an asshole. It is the Age of the Asshole, Ego And Entitlement, so you better throw all decency over board, and once you do, you will actually achieve everything you ever wanted. In order to not be obliterated, you will have to become a sociopath, because sociopathy fixed the world.

That's the message the Universe seems to be sending us right now. But rest assured, I am keeping tabs. The Age of the Asshole cannot last forever. If nothing else stops it, climate collapse will. And there will be no amount of money and no bunker layout will save the assholes left.


The face-eating leopards are waiting...

    - TBS, 10 NOV 2024, no AI

So, there I said it:

No, it is absolutely and entirely impossible that I ever make up with my parental units, and by proxy thus my family, even though it is for certain none of them are narcissists or have other, Trump-like cluster 2 affective disorders, and no matter how much mail C. sends and acts as the "We want you back, but we won't accept or respect you" messenger for them:

I am the undeniable result of my mother's sex life before my step dad, and this mere fact has created such a drama, that I either 1) stay away or 2) have to stop to exist physically.

Not only was I nonverbally asked to go on a compromise with my bodily autonomy for my (half)-sister's sake, I also only really could solve the conflict of my existence by not existing. And, as a living being, like all living beings I am biologically primed to stay alive.

Sorry, suicidal ideations in order to solve a problem my parents did not (want to) solve, is not a life strategy. You all can act like I am terrible and "missing out", and it's my fault if I feel bad because I'm "terrible" all you want, I don't believe this crap, and will not ever.

And I am not even menstruating today ><

    - TBS, 20 OCT 2024, no AI

Signs of the times and the world, as it is?

I wrote yesterday, that I just realised that progressive Jupiter was on my MC-line in Tokyo this summer. This is wrong, Jupiter is on the MC in my relocated birth chart in Tokyo, which is even better. Natally, I have Neptune on a Sagittarius MC. No wonder I had a sort of Awakening, when I went there. People have started their carreer as nuns and monks on such constellations. Transit Pluto was close to my Natal ASC, which makes sense, since I threw out all my clothes on the second day in Tokyo, and bought new, more fitting and age-appropriate clothes. And Kyoto and the temple in Nara was the place I really had a change of heart, soul and inner landscape.

When I wrote the last post, the sense of wonder already started to wane here in CPH, and I fear that the changes might just not be as permanent as I felt up to about last week. Belligerently and childishly, I wrote, that the changes were permanent in order to keep them permanent. And I hoped there was just a dip, and I tried to command that sense of wonder to come back and be the rule of existence. Also, I did feel like that. It was an accurate description of, what I felt like, when I came home and to about a week and a half ago. And I so miss it. I just kinda wished that at some point you had done your time in the pits, and you would not have to return.

And I do wonder, do I expect too much happines?

But on the other hand, why should it be shameful to wake up excited by what wonders you will experience that day, seeing this part of town, that shop, that you don't buy from, having that conversation with this person? Feeling safe, even though there are people not having my best interest at their heart? People, who don't accept my boundaries? I wasn't even wanting more, just for the dread and greyness to disappear, the impending doom to switch to impending ecxitement, especially after almost a decade of feeling really shitty. And so, I had the rush to end all rushes, overshadowing all dread, when I saw the magic in everyday life, that can be there, helped by O.'s eyes. I will not be ashamed of that. As a Capricorn Moon with only negative aspects to it I do fucking know, that there is a reality that needs to be taken care of, and that rainbows are not forever, I just wonder, if it has got to be dreary like black tar soup all the fucking time. There has got to be a middle way, that is sustainable, until one walks the rainbow bridge themselves.

Also, this way of living just feels more logical, because you're not as pissed off as everyone else "living in the real world". The queue in Netto is not as annoying, the traffic not as bad, and life in the postcapitalist and very pre-collapse world is just more livable that way, so unless I got the best of answers to as to why The Real World just has got to be the desert everyone desires, I'd like to be thankful for, that the spirits showed themselves to me for much longer than just a moment, and everything was awesome for a couple of months as a result of this. A cobblestone pavement is just better, when it is not just that part of the way, where you have to walk on foot and pull your bike, when you see the spirits the way I saw them.

(Yes, I will post about Japan soon :P Just need to process it still)

    - TBS, 19 OCT 2024, no AI

:)

Oh, Japan, I still miss you much.



But at least now I have O.
O. is an immigrant to Denmark as I am, and she showed me Copenhagen, as she sees it.
We both had shitty stuff happening to us, when we were children, and we both had to evacuate the place we came from, and we both sort fought our way through to becoming a part of the society here, working crummy jobs and going to school.

We walked up and down Christiania, Nordhavn, and a lot of other places, and I know the city better for it. The beauty of the harbour spaces. The somewhat more hidden places at Christiania. Stuff to do around town, when one is alone and the walls are creeping in. O. is an extrovert, and I am an introvert, so I see the city differently now. When I came back from Japan, Copenhagen did look different. It looked like I could see the magic in the city, and I feared that would disappear, and it would become Crummy Copenhagen again, but O. has shown me so much, I think Copenhagen has changed for the better permanently. I see the spirits now here the way I saw them in Japan.

O., I am so glad, you're showing me your Copenhagen and your world ♥ Everything is different now, and everything is better ♥♥♥

    - TBS, 15 OCT 2024, no AI

Fortid

It's the time to renew my passport, and that means finding stuff like my birth certificate, and that means rummaging through the old papers, and that means having to go through the physical manifestations of bad memories again. And that nagging feeling, how these memories make me different from most people I encounter on a daily basis, is there again.

I have always been surprised by, how people cannot even imagine not to have had a reasonably good childhood, and what that means for a person. But I have come to understand that having a shitty past is so fundamentally a different experience from having a good one, that it is like imagining living on Mars for those people, if they had to try to understand it. They just cannot be expected to grasp the concept and implications of it.

I knew a couple of people, whom I looked up to, because they seemed to have their shit together in ways I could only dream of, and the way I did see, feel, act or think felt way off and weirdly dysfunctional compared to the orderliness of their thoughts and ways to live.

That was, until something happened to them that made it clear they had not even thought about it. Like, they would have a clear idea of the unemployed, what unemployment does to a person, and what they themselves would do, if they should happen upon the dole.

And then, shit happens out of the left field, and they turn into headless chickens, leopards are eating their face, and "oh, I had no idea you cannot leave the country, when on Kontanthjælp, unless the Jobcenter allows it in writing" and other such stupid shit, that I had thought they knew, since they were so well-versed at life. Like, fuck, but there was this medical doctor, who had specialised in psychiatric drugs, who got all wide-eyed on Reddit on a thread where unemployed were talking about what it did to them in terms of having taken away all agency and financial means. I don't know, but I thought, well, he's not a psychiatrist, but him not even having a clue at all about the psychological toll about a fairly common thing really blew me away. Doesn't he have a relative, who was unemployed?

As I got older, I realise, how little those, who know everything, really do know. And how little they have thought about that they don't know everything. This is probably really d'uh, but it still blows me away regularly.

It is probably the difference between having learned to function in a first world upper middle class environment with comparatively few shitty things happening to them, and then me, and people like me, who did also grow up in a first world country, but on the lower end of it. We were poor people, compared to most other in the areas we lived in, and I had some serious shit happen to me. And it never ceases to amaze me, how massive the difference between some Låsby Svendsen housing area and those detached villa areas in the suburbs is, to make a visually material example. It's basically the distance between the Sun and Pluto, and the difference is quantifiable in scientific terms in a meaningful way.

The differences are in the details, the way you don't throw away the whole shoe, but keep the shoestring, because it is still good. The way you are not surprised how hard shit can hit the fan, and you know there is not always a way out, or anything people could have done to prevent it, so you don't get all toxic-positive, if you meet someone, who really was beaten to the ground. And your first thought is not, that he is lying, either. The way, you're always prepared for the hammer to fall, and the way I still don't understand, how people didn't already have three days worth of food, water and other supplies stocked, before the The Danish Emergency Management Agency sent out their advisory letter. The way the sentence "But can't you just..." is not a sentence existing without qualifiers, that basically negate the sentence's meaning. And also, I think I understand, why there is actual research in the so-called childhood stressors, and it is quantified that if you have these stressors and this many, you have an X amount of times higher probability of aquiring Y condition as an adult. You just become different, like from a different country.

But yeah, rifling through the old school grade books and diplomas, tax cards from my home country and other shit also is a proof of that I made it through. I made it to another country, I made it through university and into a job. I am debt free. And I am spectacularly proud of all that. And because I had the past that I had, and the things happening to me that I had, and therefore am the person I am, I also know that all that can be gone in a splitsecond any time. Life is always going to happen.

But I have become better at taking shit to the trash.

    - TBS, 15 SEP 2024, no AI

Oh, Japan ...

... it is now three weeks since I left you. And I miss you. The nuttiness of Shinjuku, the awesome of Harajuku, the dreaminess of the streets of Kyoto, the sense of haste in the underground transits, the neon nightmare of Kabukicho, the muggy heat, the cicadas, the vending machines, the overpriced yakitori in Nishiki Market, the beauty of it all. Will we see eachother again?

Also, Nice Mobal sales clerk at Haneda, I hope you will find a new opportunity to use your German. And Danish travel group, may your studies in the martial arts be successful :)

    - TBS, 26 AUG 2024, no AI

Jeg kommer aldrig til at opgive ...

... den der roterende GIF-tingest på forsiden, mestendels, fordi Adobe ImageReady ikke er en ting mere :C...

    - TBS, 24 FEB 2024, no AI

Det er så her, det sker...

... når det så sker...

Langt fra Tinder, TikTok, Eks-Twitter, og hvad de dér dersens SoMekanaler hedder allesammen.

Nej, du er ikke faldet i et tidshul, der har transmogriffet dig tilbage til 2004, det er sådan, den her blog skal se ud. Og det er også sådan, at formatet her ikke vil ændre sig i en overskuelig fremtid. Jeg er meget vild med layoutet, og har været det, siden jeg fik min Blog*Spot-konto, som senere blev min Bloggerkonto, som senere blev opkøbt af Google.

Måske finder jeg en dag lysten til at programmere et kommentarfelt. Problemet er ikke så meget at lave det, men at spamsikre det, og så ved jeg også, der stort set ikke er nogen, der kigger forbi her anyway, så der er et cost-benefit, der lige skal gå op. Hvad angår JLU:CPH vil jeg formentlig håndtere det på samme måde som hedengangne Flight 1337, der havde store, gule plamager over alt, der ikke kunne tåle dagens lys under His Watchful Eye.

Men ellers er ideen, at dette subsite er min egen personlige blog. Her er jeg fri for vilkårlig AI-censur, der ikke forstår, at en "naked motorcycle" er fagudtrykket for en motorcykel uden den del af beklædningen, der ellers typisk dækker store dele af motoren, og derfor banner brugere. Fri for, at ens appeller ryger ind i den sorte round file hos Meta, og fri for at virke suspekt for hr. & fru. Frikadellesteg i alle nationer, der tror, at så har man sikkert gjort noget, for hvorfor skulle et SoMe dog ellers banne én?

Altså, ud over det med den "nøgne" motorcykel, billeder, der automatisk bliver flagged, som AI'en ikke genkender som en kat, men som en ulovlig kropsdel, etc, pp., du har ikke sat dig ind i, om det her medie er konservativt styret, eller liberalt medie, set med nordamerikanske briller, og hvordan Elon Musk har det personligt med lige præcis det her emne. Du bruger en VPN og har glemt at slukke, da du browsede over til din konto, du logger ind med en anden hardwareadresse, fordi din bærbar er låst inde på dit arbejde, og du gider ikke derind kl. lort om aftenen, men du vil lige skrive til tante Oda, at I alligevel kommer på weekend, fordi det er gået op med hundepasningen, du gør ingenting og bliver hacket, du har din konto for at læse og kommentere på dine venner, men du har ikke selv lige fået smidt det her ene bøvede feriebillede op, du har for 400 år siden haft en konto på servicen, da du var tolv år gammel, nu er du spærret ude for livstid, medmindre du sørger for, ikke at bruge samme navn, mail, tlfnr, hardwareadresse, og undlader at friende dem, du egentlig kom for. Du kan lige høre tante Yrsa skrive dig ud af testamentet, fordi du ikke friender hende heller...

I mit tilfælde drejede det sig om Instagram, hvor jeg fra en ny hardwareadresse (da jeg havde skiftet min gamle stationære ud med noget mere tidssvarende), ville ændre webadressen til at pege på min daværende Twitter. Boom, banned, og alle appellmuligheder fører ud i intetheden. Jeg havde ingen billeder på kontoen, undtagen et brugerbillede, og jeg havde ingen suspekte venner, tværtimod havde jeg en ret velbesøgt og kommenteret veninde, der laver illustrationer af den mest rene og uskyldige slags. Men jeg triggede en eller anden AI algoritme, formentlig, fordi jeg selv ikke havde billeder på min konto, og jeg loggede ind fra noget nyt hardware. Hvad jeg så kunne læse mig frem til på Nettet, efter dette skete, ligner et dårligt mashup mellem The Wild West og en roman skrevet af Kafka, den eneste forskel? Det var ret troværdigt, og der var tusindvis af folk, det var sket for.

Der var en [whistleblower], der på et tidspunkt [AMA'ede på Reddit], om, hvor meget det sejler hos Meta mht. ticket resolutions fra alm. brugere. Bare for at nævne ét eksempel på, hvad jeg bygger min rant her på. Og så har jeg slet ikke nævnt Cambridge Analytica endnu. Det er nærmest kun Jobcenteret, der kan slå den.

På mit eget site er jeg fri for at skulle forholde sig til andet end: Vil jeg poste det her til offentligt fremskue? Har jeg forklaret mig godt nok, at det ikke nemt misforstås af et levende menneske med nogenlunde omløb på øverste etage? Er det indenfor lovens rammer? Vil jeg være det bekendt?

Der er levende mennesker i serviceafdelingen hos min udbyder, så jeg vil være meget overrasket, hvis jeg får brug for at låse min bruger op for at have lagt et kattebillede op. Eller slet ingen billeder. Og da jeg intet behov for at bruge denne blog til bevidst misinformation, scams, holdløse tilsvininger af kendte eller noget som helst andet af den art, forestiller jeg mig, at jeg ikke får problemer her. Det kan være, der ryger et enkelt billede med Xi JinPing, der krammer en bestemt tegneseriebjørn ind på sitet, men det ville så være det, og det tager vi som voksne mennesker. Med tryk på mennesker.

Og hvis det alligevel ikke virker teknisk, er det mig, der er udvikleren her på sitet :)

    - TBS, 29 JULY 2023, no AI