Texts for moist robots.
Made 26 September 2018
— Swine, swine, and vultures. — that’s journalism in 2018, Raul.
He had been watching me intently for the past hour trying to understand something he can never understand: language.
—Still, they win pulitzers and cruise the world in business class, regurgitating opinions about Brazil without knowing anything about the subject. Then they get their articles liked by readers who know less than nothing, and fame increases with the number of subscribers. That's democracy. so you have to hand it to them. — it is a dream gig while waiting for death. Something to do with your life. This is the mainstream.
>While the freelance content markteters of the world, that’s us. — I point out to Raul — are left to be censored on social media or publish our stories on places like Medium. Which is pretty much the same thing, I added.
I tried to say “Medium” with as many grimaces as possible. This excites Raul which in turn amuses me, and in this way I have a meaningful interaction with this biological app that has accompanied me for twenty-three years.
He’s a pug.
—But it doesn’t matter because I finally got it, I whisper sotto voce, Brazil is so far ahead it should be the prime study of how politics will become when people have become so epistemologically confused that questions of truth need to be voted on to be known. It’s the social media vision of the world, and an authoritarian one. Censorhip is mandatory, so there is now a war for people’s opions. Do you see the dangers here Raul? Yes, Alex Jones is a crazy lunatic but last time I checked anyone can call oneself a journalist. And is it fair that major platforms silence journalists?
continued (expected date of publication - 4th of October 2018).