Dare come with as I once again walk where the streets have no name; where sunny avenues can turn dark and foreboding in an instant; where every corner drips with potential to be a cul-de-sac of corrosion; where no u-turns are allowed except for the super rich, Musky and repugnant to the senses as they might be . . . Continue reading
More dark lore from the insidious side of Social Media: Continue reading
I used to scroll past half-decent posts without so much as a meh. Now it’s me doing the posting, I want the world to care.
We all know someone who posts them, but never do it ourselves . . . Continue reading
Videos of surprised faces as pressies are opened; before and after pics of dinner, the pudding, and various alcoholic drinks likewise. All delivered instantaneously; not shown half-arsed Continue reading
It’s Christmas. TV and media are shoving images of lovely things to eat in our faces hand over fist.
As a vegetarian, all this revelling over dead carcasses doesn’t make for fun viewing 😦
Before becoming one, there was a time I didn’t get it for a second; even being known to scoff at, instead of consider the view.
These days I frequently see/hear ‘snowflake‘ used in relation to fellow flesh-dodgers. Continue reading
According to punks of the 70s, the advent of something like the internet meant we’d all be living in an Anarchy Utopia by 2018.
But we’re not, we here with Donald Trump in charge of America, Johnny Rotten selling butter and David Attenborough not even a vegetarian.
What went wrong; is punk dead?
No, cos here’s some punk poetry right f-ing here instead!
A poem possibly about indecision more than anything else.
Inspired by a Twitter thread where someone said that an account open for eighteen months with only a handful of followers is a clear sign of a bot; for someone to reply that wasn’t true as it described them; only for the someone to come back and say that fact alone made them the least qualified to make the claim.
I don’t recall where such a fine example of ‘Twitter Logic’ was found. Too aghast to stop for mementos and screenshots, compelled to poetry instead!
How the BBC exploited equality for its own social media gain: