Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Facebook. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Blue Check Erin?

 So the other day I received this notification on Facebook:


I found this funny, because this is the same platform which censured me for daring to suggest that people who were committing arson should be shot to prevent such arson in the first place. But hey, let's find out what it takes to be a Bluecheka, maybe it will help me get my message out to more people. So let's click on Start Request...


"Please attach government-issued photo ID that shows your name and date of birth."


Yeah, that's a "No" from me, dawg. Even if my photo ID didn't have my deadname on it, I still wouldn't do it, because no way no HOW do I just give Facebook, Facebook's employees, Facebook's employees' spouses, and anyone else associated with Facebook a way to collect personal information about me that could be used to violate my privacy or screw with my credit or expose my location to others. 

They'll just have to buy my information from the Chinese like everyone else. 

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Reaching My Limit

I will put up with a lot of crap on my Facebook wall. So much so, in fact, that my friend David Blackard has told me that I have "the patience of a saint" for putting up with people for as long as I do.

What's ironic about his statement is that I am inherently impatient and don't like it when people disagree with me such that my first reaction is to go "No, you're full of crap, go away"; but because I am aware of my impatient, dismissive nature, and because I do not wish to live in an echo chamber (the first rule of Dunning–Kruger Club is that no one knows they're in Dunning–Kruger club), I tend to let people disagree with me -- no matter how much I find it grind-my-molars irritating -- until they breach certain pre-defined "no go" zones. And when that happens, I take swift and decisive action, which can range from deleting the post and telling them "Don't ever do that again" to blocking them.

One of those limits is verbally attacking my friends. Names which I'd allow against me aren't allowed against my friends, because I figure it if hurts my feelings perhaps I'm just sensitive, but if it pisses me off to see my friend treated that way, you're done.

Another such limit is to go out of your way to misgender me. While it can be difficult to get my pronouns correct in person if I'm not looking my best, it is entirely another thing to look at my female name and my feminine portrait and go "You know, it would cost me absolutely nothing to be polite in this text-based conversation, but I shall make an effort to be insulting."  I've actually had people argue with me over what I actually am!

The third limit is the one which prompted today's post, and that is when someone makes a blanket "You are X and you should feel terrible for being X, you worthless person" statement. Usually these have been people telling me that I'm mentally ill because I'm transgender (I beg to differ, and prefer to think of myself as having been born with a birth defect and am trying to make a difficult life more pleasant for myself), but given the most recent tragedy there's a fair amount of name-calling and finger-pointing at responsible gun owners.

Here is what pushed me to my limit today:

Why, how dare I want the means to preserve my life against violence! How dare I kill another who wishes harm upon me! Why, if I were truly enlightened like Jd, I would offer myself up as a human sacrifice before the criminal who wanted me harmed, because my death would be moral. And if I disagree, why then I shouldn't sully the title of American by claiming it as my own; I should rather emigrate to a less-enlightened country or else exile myself to death in the outermost darkness.

Needless to say, this raised my ire to such a degree that I briefly lost my composure and indulged in some very un-ladylike f-bombs:

Any morality which requires me, a non-criminal, to die because it makes people feel better is a direct threat to my existence and I won't tolerate it. I probably could have continued to debate this... person... but the moment someone outright tells me that they prefer my death, I cease to give a shit about anything they do or say.

One of these days, people will push me until I get so upset that I will actually answer the question "How many people have to die before you will embrace gun control?", and they will be horrified at my response. But that, dear reader, is a subject for another day.

Wednesday, August 31, 2016

More "Away Game" Bon Mots

Why should Facebook get all my good stuff?

This was in reaction to the whole EpiPen thing:


Some people thought I was being political when instead I was simply trying to state a fact of capitalism. Here's a clarification:


This next one is the result of me becoming increasingly annoyed with politics:


This was later turned into a meme by my good friend Eric Carr:
I'm flattered by how good-looking she is, even if she looks nothing like me.

And finally, this one came from my Blazing Sword page:


If they felt safe then, they ought to feel safe now. If they don't feel safe now, then maybe they ought to realize that their previous feelings of safety were just a comfortable illusion.

The Fine Print


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution- Noncommercial- No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Creative Commons License


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