Listen— I got a life now. That means I got limited time for this Internet bullshit. I am, in point of fact, a normie now. And I’m writing this in the middle of the night, following some absolute goddamned bullshit that I’m not even going to go into. That being said? Me, being me, being a normal person, now?
I absolutely have no time for the Internet’s stupid nonsense anymore.
In any fucking fashion.
The Predicate
I’m not going to pretend that I’m super famous. Humanity has made me famous against my fucking will 16 goddamned times and I know how that all works: humanity puts the spotlight on me, and then it takes it away and pretends that I was never the subject of interest. It is pointless to pretend that it works any other way, because I’ve seen it 16 fucking times now.
This is what you all do: you make people famous for no discernible goddamned reason, and then you throw them away. If said person has anything negative to say about this, you then claim that they are now ‘has-beens’. It’s stupid fucking grade school bullshit that I’ve been subjected to, again, 16 fucking times. I get that you’re like this, but I don’t have to like this.
I’m also well-aware that none of my previous outings being ‘famous’ have bled into one another, because human beings are fucking stupid and have the object permanence of a goddamned baby.
That having been said, note, it’s too late tonight to digitize this, and, keep in mind, I’m handwriting this, waiting for my sleepy pill to take effect— even if nobody considers me to be famous anymore, I still have some of the trappings of fame. I’m Verified on YouTube, and I’m about to get Verified again there, once I have the time to actually care enough to go through the steps to do so on another channel. Also! I have a Google Knowledge Panel, and all and any mention of me is eternally verboten on Wikipedia. (A story less interesting than how I got excommunicated from the Catholic Church.)
I also want to mention that I’m the subject of several people’s dissertations, and the potential existence of my penis is a matter of scientific study and curiosity.
I don’t know what kind of ‘famous’ that makes me.
But it makes me whatever enough to pitch a bitch about this.
The Problem
On one hand, I’m famous enough to get shit for it. On the other, I am apparently not considered famous enough to, say, have weird and erroneous bullshit corrected on my record.
I’m just going to come out and say it: somebody’s full of shit. Nobody wants to do the right thing by me and actually fulfill their end of the social contract, which means actually doing the shit you agreed to do when you listed stuff I’ve worked on, made, or have been a part of. And Google is like the worst fucking culprit for this shit.
Never-you-mind that Wikipedia decided, in all its electric toaster wisdom, to forever bar any record of my existence from being recorded on their website. That’s not what I’m talking about, here. (Although that’s a fascinating story that we’ll probably never get to.)
Alright fine I’ll just come out and fucking tell you: around 2014 or 2015, a baker’s dozen’s worth of admins on Wikipedia became so deranged by knowledge of my existence that they decided to, I don’t know, uphold a pact to keep any mention of my existence off the wiki forever. Who does that shit? What the fuck?? For what fuckin’ purpose, really?!
The end result of all of this, is, while I have enough whatever to still (and probably eternally— yikes on that) be considered at least some form of Public Figure (for the rest of my days), there sure are a lot of people acting like they don’t give a shit. I’m not saying that my name instantly sparks recognition: I’ve introduced myself in real life to people who once considered me the Antichrist incarnate online, and there was not a single bit of recognition behind those doll-eyes.
The more I catalog what happened with this, the more that I realize that the vast majority of my problems are probably because I pissed off just the right people. Like when I didn’t get Verified on Twitter? Because a stakeholder said no. Imagine! Somebody didn’t like me enough to keep me from getting a meaningless graphic next to my name. It remains to be seen if the same bullshit will play out on Bluesky: though, given that, out of every hundred people, somebody weird gets the mark, I might just have a chance with that. (They Verified a warlock. I have a shot.)
I still have no idea what’s going on with Meta. Constant denials; no explanations.
Time after time, again, I feel as though I’m famous enough to get banned; but not ‘famous’ enough to get any perks. It sucks.
If I were super fucking famous, maybe I’d get actual service. But, I don’t want that.
I just want the social contract to be upheld.
The Social Contract
If I make something, and it’s listed somewhere in a way I’ve agreed to, I want it to stay there. I want it to stay listed, and I want it to remain in one piece.
For whatever fucking reason— and I’m looking at you, multi-billion dollar companies— none of you motherfuckers can do this.
I don’t have the time to go through denial after denial when I ask you to fix simple stupid shit. Give you an example: on Google right now, one of the covers to my books is missing.
I send them a message, as they have provided a way for me to do such a thing. I say, hey, the cover’s missing. Could you fix it with this image? Thanks.
And they said no.
Twice.
The book is hosted on their servers.
The cover of the fucking book is hosted on their servers.
They still won’t fix it in my Google Knowledge Panel.
Why?
Also, why the fuck did my book just vanish from Walmart and Barnes and Noble? Why the fuck is there a specific e-mail that I can use to contact Barnes & Noble about this??
WHY CAN’T YOU JUST KEEP MY SHIT ONLINE?????
i JUST want to set this shit and forget it.
Why do you make it so difficult?
I have a life, now.
I can’t be doing with this.
