Apple services aren’t that bad and Google services aren’t that great.
This is a similar post, but from the micro.blog client app.
Sometimes you post a status post to see if you can stop paying for a hosted micro blog.
I attempt to put Mark Holmberg’s actual words into what I imagine his words would be without the coded language of ”I’m not a racist” racism—Sam
From the Richmond Times-Dispatch Editorial Pages:
Denouncing the “false narrative” of the Confederate monuments on Richmond’s Monument Avenue on Thursday, Richmond Mayor Levar Stoney proceeded to dish up his own stony narrative of our world-famous avenue while announcing a commission to write the correct one.
Any narrative that doesn’t fit with my own is false and manufactured.
And by the way, he said, find some new monuments to bring balance and diversity to our National Historic Landmark District.
By the way, I know I’ve already dismissed any narrative by Mayor Stoney in the first paragraph, but by making this an aside I can casually dismiss any change at all to our All Title-Cased Street as an attempt to undermine the dominant white narrative.
“It was written in stone and bronze more than 100 years ago — not only to distort history by lionizing the architects and defenders of slavery, but also to perpetuate the tyranny and terror of Jim Crow and usher in a new era of white supremacy,” Stoney said of our monuments during Thursday’s news conference.
The monuments are all “part of the false narrative — the alternative facts, if you will — that we will begin to fact-check, starting today,” he said.
By directly quoting Mayor Stoney here, making sure that ”false narrative” appears in quotation marks so close to the first paragraph, I make your brain tie anything Mayor Stoney says to my idea that his narrative is false and manufactured.
It was likely Stoney’s most passionate speech of his young career, and the finite delivery of a vague campaign promise.
Mayor Stoney can give a good speech, but he couldn’t possible feel these things for real because he’s a politician.
It comes as other cities across the nation wrestle with the images and icons of the Civil War and what they say to us today.
Here’s a benign sentence that I hope makes you think I’m a serious person.
He used some of the same language and concepts of New Orleans Mayor Mitch Landrieu, former President Barack Obama and a rather scathing narrative about the nation’s 1,503 public symbols of the Confederacy published last year by the Southern Poverty Law Center.
In case you’d forgotten that Mayor Stoney is black, he is. Mitch Landrieu is a white person who likes black people. Barack Obama is black. Oh, and the SPLC doesn’t like symbols of white supremacy. Who knew?!
No doubt, the mayor’s personal narrative about Monument Avenue is partially rooted in fact. But it’s not the whole truth.
Reminder paragraph 1? Mayor Stoney’s narrative is “personal”, false, and made up. He might say some things that happen to be facts, but those are probably accidents.
I believe his Monument Avenue Commission will find it. In my opinion, you could not find a better and more balanced group to tackle this monumental and important task. The historians and educators — along with some city leaders and legal experts — are expected to come up with plans for plaques and other ways to “contextualize” the monuments and those who created them by Nov. 1. There are two public hearings that will occur sometime in the next 90 days.
Mayor Stoney, in attempting to craft a narrative that’s invalid because it’s different than mine, appointed a commission of experts that even I can’t dismiss. But, if the commission attempts to do the job it was tasked to do, I’ll put that in scare quotes. Also, remember paragraph one where I dismiss this commission as not finding the true narrative, but writing one.
Yes, there’s certainly room on the avenue for some sweet new monuments.
Any existing monuments are important, world-famous, and National Historic Landmarks. Any new monuments are trivial, unimportant things put up to placate people who disagree with me.
And unlike New Orleans’ mayor, Stoney stated that he’s not asking to tear any monuments down, which would be political suicide and would also likely relaunch the Civil War.
Mayor Stoney isn’t taking a cautious approach because he’s trying to do a hard thing, but because he’s a ’fraidy-cat politician. Oh, and if any of you people try to actually tear down these statues, you’ll be responsible for the violence that happens.
But after the news conference — when asked about it by this paper’s Michael Paul Williams — Stoney left the door open for demolition, saying what he wants done now is a “first step.”
Because Major Stoney is open to narratives that aren’t mine, we should assume his end goal is the most extreme possible action. I’m banking on you not knowing that the slippery slope argument here is a logical fallacy.
While the co-chair of the commission, Christy Coleman (CEO of the American Civil War Museum), struck a graceful, conciliatory tone and pledged they would work together to get this right, the mayor’s blunt comments indicated he felt certain that white supremacy and terror were the motives for the creation of the monuments. And he said he found all but one of them unworthy, if not detestable.
Having not actually watched Christy Coleman’s talk on CSPAN on this very issue where she states that white supremacy and terror were motives for the creation of the monuments, I’d like you to see Mayor Stoney as the extreme black politician who wants to tell white people what to do.
“I think we should consider what Monument Avenue would look like with a little more diversity,” Stoney said. “Right now, Arthur Ashe stands alone, and he is the only true champion on that street.”
Oh Lawd, why’d you have to go there? It’s hard to get folks to believe you’re going to be fair while slapping a good number of them right in the kisser.
Let me invoke some casual imagery of white supremacy with an ”Oh Lawd”, then reassert that anyone one who disagrees with me is violently assaulting white people.
And what about Matthew Fontaine Maury?
Yes, some might say Commodore Maury was a face of the Confederate Navy — the guy who helped devise deadly mines for southern waters. (Most of his wartime efforts were in Europe, trying to stop the war.)
But this Spotsylvania County native was mainly known as the “pathfinder of the seas,” the man who charted ocean currents and winds, a tireless researcher and author whose work in several fields before and after the war profoundly changed the world.
Yes, he was a scientific champion in every sense of the word. He’s buried here at Hollywood Cemetery, right beside presidents John Tyler and James Madison.
And the person behind a monument for “the first and foremost oceanographer” wasn’t some Jim Crow crew in white sheets, but Mrs. Elvira Evelina Moffitt, a 78-year-old woman and historical activist from North Carolina (please read her bio online) who tirelessly raised the money for one of the world’s rare monuments to a heroic scientist. She lived just long enough to see it unveiled.
But it wasn’t her idea. According to old newspaper reports, the monument to Maury was originally suggested by Gaston Lichtenstein, a letter-writer to the Richmond Times-Dispatch. It took 40 years to get it done.
Here’s six paragraphs on someone most of us have never heard of, who’s not central to the controversy at hand, but lets me prove how Mayor Stoney is completely wrong.
(I’m hoping that you don’t realize that the exact thing I’m doing here, presenting context, is the exact ”writing a correct narrative” I dismiss in the first paragraph. I also hope you forget that this commission is about Monument Avenue as a whole so I can just cherry-pick examples to get my way.)
Back in 1996, while the Arthur Ashe monument was being created, I plunged into the newspaper’s extensive archives to see how Richmond’s monuments like Maury’s — and the avenue around them — came to be.
“Choose a statue and start a fight,” a Richmond Times-Dispatch story reflected 70 years ago.
I’m an expert because I did research 20 years ago.
As I wrote then, “many of Richmond’s landmark statues took root only after long and sometimes bitter squabbling over design, location, cost and even the birthplace of the sculptors.”
Wow, I’ve been writing this drivel for a long time.
On May 14, 1864, two days after J.E.B. Stuart died in a home downtown, the City Council voted that Richmond would “commemorate by a suitable monument its gratitude for his services,” according to a T-D news report at the time.
The monument was unveiled 43 years later.
Richmond’s City Council, during the Confederacy, voted to commemorate a Confederate General. And it took 43 years to go up. It’s almost as if those two things are unrelated, but I hope you don’t think about that too much.
Robert E. Lee’s took only half that time, and included a campaign by the city’s black newspaper, the Richmond Planet, to brand the effort as treason.
It’s fascinating and, yes, ugly stuff. But it’s not like Richmond is new to analyzing — and agonizing over — its monumental past.
Disagreement is fascinating, but OK as long as white people continue to get their way in the end.
An article in the May issue of Smithsonian magazine — “What Richmond Has Gotten Right About Interpreting Its Confederate History” — noted our city has done a good job of erecting other monuments that “acknowledge its dark past, using its public spaces to highlight history that reflects and inspires the entire community.”
Even though I argue earlier that our past isn’t dark, this article in a magazine says we’re already doing enough, so why are we even talking about this?
Friends, there were wonderful parts in Stoney’s speech, like how he said we will build new monuments like schools and better housing developments to elevate all Richmonders.
I just wish the mayor had introduced this complex and controversial effort to correct the “false narrative” with more grace instead of a stony and blanket condemnation of the many people who helped make Monument Avenue one of the most architecturally acclaimed streets in the world.
In conclusion, any attempt by Mayor Stoney to say something I disagree with is deceitful and ungraceful and you should be afraid of what this black man is trying to take away from white people.
And please, as I begged recently in a TV column, why not an equally esteemed commission to do a forensic study of the perpetrators and victims of Richmond’s latest crime wave so we know where they come from, how they live and how they collide (something we did back in the ’90s) so we can better understand how to stop it?
That’s a monumental task that will save lives now.
And remember, completely unrelated to the issue of symbolic public monuments, I want to leave you with the thought that black people commit lots of crimes! If you really want to honor non-white people, you should spend time figuring out why they are so good at crime.
From the beginning of Walden:
I have no doubt that some of you who read this book are unable to pay for all the dinners which you have actually eaten, or for the coats and shoes which are fast wearing or are already worn out, and have come to this page to spend borrowed or stolen time, robbing your creditors of an hour.
Today on ZDNet:
A huge trove of voter data, including personal information and voter profiling data on what’s thought to be every registered US voter dating back more than a decade, has been found on an exposed and unsecured server, ZDNet has learned.
It’s hard to exist in 2017 and not feel like you’ve already lost—your personal data’s out there. Facebook already has it. Google already has it. The GOP already has it. The temptation is to say “fuck it” and not care, because what can you possibly to do change any of this?
And you’re partly right, individual action will probably do very, very little. One person can delete their Facebook or switch to DuckDuckGO, but can’t change the culture that a) allows major political parties to profile you and b) be so cavalier about that data they basically say ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ when they accidentally leak it. I’m sure the Democraty Party is just as shitty with how they treat this data. Collecting this information is creepy. If you had a notebook logging all the political activity and preferences of your neighbors, you’d be a creeper. Just because a major political party does it doesn’t mean it’s suddenly OK. “They do it too” is an argument my daughters make when I catch them doing something wrong, not politics that are respectful of individual human beings.
With every leak, it makes it easier for someone use your identity to commit fraud. With every ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it makes it easier for a troll to dox someone and with every doxxing a marginalized person thinks that much harder about participating in the discourse.
We collectively need to get and stay angry about this. Laws need to change to shift liability so that there’s more money to lose by keeping private data indefinitely than by keeping it. Personal data should the equivalent of storing toxic waste—you keep it if you absolutely must, but it’s not worth it otherwise.
At the risk of being labeled idealistic, every time we reduce humans to data we dehumanize them. Reducing humans to a numerical profile may be how we think elections have to be won, but it’s not how I want humans treated. I want a political system that rewards treating human beings like human beings, not a profile in a database.
It speaks to me of the systemic problems in how we determine political power in our country. Our first-past-the-post voting system, our campaign financing, our gerrymandering, our lack of ballot access, all lead to having two massive political party structures that are less and less accountable to the humans on the ground whom they purport to represent. This is not to say both political parties are the same, or to say that political parties don’t do some good, but that systematically, they are organizations that exist to try and win a certain type of election. I optimistically (naïvely?) believe that we can make systemic changes and get politics closer to our ideals of how humans should treat each other.
I strongly believe that the government is us. It governs with the consent of the governed. If the system is broken, we try to fix it within the framework we’ve all agreed we’ll use to try and fix it. If that still doesn’t work, we all get together and peacefully decide on a different framework. The Constitution of 1789 was not our first governing document, nor will it be our last.
When I think about our institutions and insiderness vs. outsiderness, I think of this quote from Eve in the first episode of the fifth season of Angel when the team is given the reins of the evil law firm Wolfram and Hart:
You can shut this place down, but… then…well, then you wouldn’t have it anymore. If the place closes down, the connections dry up. Evil goes next door. This is the catch—I’m explaining the catch so you don’t have to stand around wondering what it is. See, in order to keep this business running, you have to keep this business running. And that means keeping your clients—most of them, anyway—happy.
I think of Twitter as an ephemeral medium. It’s a place that I want use for idle thoughts and off-the-cuff interaction. But unfortunately, Twitter is a place where anything you’ve ever said can (and will be) used against you.
Most of the time, your Twitter feed has context. You know (roughly) the people who follow you and you know that most of your tweets will be taken in the context of the tweets that came before. If I write a joke about something political, it’s written with the context that most of my followers have a good sense of my political views (at least enough to know where I’m coming from with the joke.)
But “most of the time” isn’t “all of the time”. Most people in the world don’t care about Sam’s Twitter feed, but one day, I could “win” the Twitter lottery and suddenly have millions of people read one of my posts out of context. That doesn’t sound pleasant to me.
So even though I’ve dialed back on my Twitter use, every two weeks I have a recurring OmniFocus task to “Delete two-week old tweets”. I use a service called Cardigan and delete any Tweets that are older than two weeks. I don’t care about these Tweets. You don’t care about these Tweets. I own them and it’s OK if they go away.
Assigned by my Northside RVA SciFi Bookclub, I just finished Infomocracy by Malka Older and I loved it. Set a hyper-networked future where every 100,000 people get to elect their own government and the nation-state is a thing of the past, even the most casual student of political science will love this book. Oh, and the characters and story are pretty great too.
I bought this book in paper, which turns out is pretty fitting as there’s a non-spoiler plot element involving analog vs. digital tools. I was angry that the eBook cost more dollars than a brand new hardback copy, so I bought the hardback and I really enjoyed having the beautiful physical artifact. (I do wish hard copies came with a DRM-free ebook download already).
You can read the first five chapters of the book for free at the publisher’s web zone.
Finally. The image is gone.